Cheaters never win and winners never cheat. Except sometimes they do, and that stinks.
Over the last few months many of the athletes I’ve held in high regard have not fallen, but crashed violently down from their winning pedestal.
In September 2014, Rita Jeptoo, Boston Marathon and Chicago Marathon champion, tested positive for the performance enhancing drug EPO. While she denies she did anything wrong, Jeptoo has recently been banned from racing for two years.
Just last week, when asked if he would take performance-enhancing drugs again given the professional and personal lashing he’s received, Lance Armstrong said that he would indeed do it again.
Of course, the Patriots' controversial win that sent them to the Super Bowl is so prevalent in the news that even I know about it, and usually the only thing I’m cheering for when it comes to football is for the clock to run out so we can turn on Downton Abbey.
I’ve never been one to think of athletes as gods. I never had Michael Jordan’s poster in my room. I never bought Wheaties because Mia Hamm was on the box. While I admired Joan Benoit Samuelson and Mary Lou Retton as my 8-year-old self watched them in awe at the 1984 Olympics, I never actually wanted to be them. They weren’t heroes to me. I just thought they were incredibly gifted and admired what they could do. And I really liked Mary Lou’s bright white teeth.
So when I hear of athletes who have lied and cheated their way to victory, I don’t mourn the loss of an idol. I mourn the loss of perspective and integrity.
The beauty of sport is that it pushes the human body to perform incredible feats. We see the best of what we as humans can physically be. We see just how high we can jump, how fast we can run, how precisely we can get that ball into a teeny, tiny hole half a field away. Every time a soccer player makes a goal, you can be sure that hundreds of hours of drills and training prepared him for that moment. It’s what glues me to the television every two years when the Olympic banner is raised. For those two weeks, I am captivated as the drama unfolds before my eyes. Who knew curling and rhythmic ribbon dancing could be so exciting! I find myself getting weepy right along with the athletes, for their victories and their defeats, no matter what flag they wave.
Since becoming a runner, I’ve gained an even deeper appreciation for what elite athletes can do. I appreciate their tireless work ethic, their drive, their desire to constantly improve and to sacrifice so much for one shining moment. Pre-dawn wake-up calls, strict diets and required recoveries have made these ordinary men and women into extraordinary athletes.
So often I use their example to show my daughters what can be done if you want something badly enough. Here’s what you can do if you combine hard work and talent. The possibilities are endless.
And when all the hard work and talent isn’t good enough to win, I show my daughters how to be resilient. Shalane Flanagan attempted to break the American woman’s record in the marathon this year in Berlin. She fearlessly put her bold, audacious goal out there. She’d worked hard. It was a goal well within her reach. The conditions were perfect that day, but in the last few miles she fell apart and in the end she fell short.
In an article by Cathal Dennehy, Shalane said, “This will aid me in future marathons. Progress is always good, and this year I’ve dropped four minutes off my marathon time. I’ll look at my training and maybe work on being a little bit tougher in those last few miles. I'll take another shot at some point. Sometimes, it takes a couple of swings.”
She didn’t quit. It’s not over. It’s just another step towards being the best runner she knows she can be.
That’s why when elite athletes who appear to have achieved the ultimate success in their sport are revealed to be cheaters or suspected cheaters, it’s disheartening. Have we lost so much perspective on what really matters in life? Has the “win at all cost” attitude become the norm? Maybe it’s always been this way and I’ve been happily residing in a land made of cotton candy and rainbows.
To me, it’s more about the journey and less about the trophies that makes sports so intriguing. I’m more impressed by the time and sacrifice that brought these athletes to where they are today. I’m more excited about how sports have shaped their character than how many rings they’ve won. Winning is good. Winning is exciting. I like to win. I like it a lot! And believe me, it gets intense in this house every time Kentucky plays basketball or the Oregon Ducks play at the Rose Bowl. But after the stadium is empty, the confetti’s cleaned up and the TV cameras are gone, what’s left?
Integrity is how we act when no one is watching. It’s being true to ourselves and our beliefs. Integrity is shaped throughout the course of a lifetime full of seemingly insignificant decisions. Glancing at someone else’s test or trusting the time you spent studying. Keeping the extra dollar the cashier mistakenly gave you, or giving it back. Taking a performance enhancing drug, or being satisfied with where your honest training took you. Those decisions build character. Those decisions can render a trophy or a check meaningful or meaningless.
An honest loss is far more respectable than a dishonest win.
Kim Cowart is a wife, mother, 24-Hour Fitness instructor, marathoner and Luna Bar-sponsored athlete.