Apr 3, 2004 Dreams Denied By Laurel Park :: Views- 150

With the 2004 Olympic trials upon us, I find myself getting excited about the prospect of another installment of Olympic competition. And while permanently allergic to those saccharine, tug-at-the-heartstrings "Up Close and Personal" vignettes, I like a good "underdog claims Olympic glory" story as much as the next gal. I was thrilled that Sarah Hughes won the figure skating gold at the last winter games, even though I ached for Michelle Kwan. As I watched ecstasy mix with heartbreak (pity the poor Canadian speed skater who caught an edge and tripped just meters after the start), I couldn't help but wonder: How does one live with a dream denied? What do you do when, like Michelle Kwan, you spend years focusing on a specific goal, only to have it slip away?

It's especially heartbreaking when the dream is persistently elusive. Kwan, one of the greatest figure skaters of all time, has participated in two Olympics without claiming gold. Mary Decker Slaney will go down in history as one of the greatest American distance runners in history; with an asterisk, perhaps, but without a single Olympic medal. Skater Todd Eldridge has six national figure skating titles but never quite figured out how to "pull it together" at the Olympics. And in one of the more wrenching examples of coming close enough to taste it, Lisa Larsen Weidenbach placed 4 th at the Olympic Marathon Trials in 1984, 1988, and 1992.

The stories aren't limited to Olympic experiences. A high school senior comes down with the flu the night before the state swim meet. A marathoner finally achieves her goal of qualifying for Boston and develops a stress fracture in her foot a week before the race. A college freshman turns her ankle the day before her first cross-country meet. It happens all the time.

As I've often said, one of the great things about sport is that it teaches you to deal life's highs and lows. "The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat" (sorry ABC Sports) come as a matched set. Athletes who don't learn how to successfully deal with the "defeat" part rarely make it to "victory." But learning to deal with defeat doesn't make it any less painful - it just puts it in perspective.

I've known athletes who let the defeats destroy them. They are the ones who define their careers by the "have nots" rather than the "haves." "Yes, I accomplished all these things BUT I never...." (fill in the blank). I find that very sad. I'm certainly not in the position to dictate how anyone should evaluate her own life, but I think that in placing the emphasis solely on accomplishment, something is lost. Sure, we all want to "win." We all want to achieve our goals. That's what prods us to rise before dawn to run, or to spend the countless hours in the gym, or to postpone a job and financial security for one more year of training. But I hope that the journey proves as valuable as the destination. I hope that the experiences along the way aren't summarily dismissed. And I hope that the final assessment isn't solely dependent on achieving the ultimate goal. Dan Marino is still one of the best quarterbacks to have played the game, Super Bowl ring or not. I rather doubt he considers his career a failure.

I learned something along these lines as a teenager, during my first international trip to England. Of course, I hit all the big tourist sights: Westminster Abbey, The Tower of London, Buckingham Palace, The Albert Hall. And I took my pictures and bought my postcards and commemorative plates like the good American tourist I was. But when I arrived home, after I carefully put away the pictures and postcards and plates, I cleaned out my coat pockets and my backpack and found dozens of ticket stubs and hotel bills and receipts, everything from a London subway pass to a cash slip from some off-the-beaten-path restaurant where I'd grabbed a quick lunch. And ironically, I discovered that those rather mundane bits of paper were more intrinsically valuable than my carefully purchased postcards and plates. They were the documentation of my travels, the things I had experienced along the way. The memories they evoked were often stronger and more vivid than those of the actual destination.

Of course, ticket stubs and years of sweat and sacrifice are hardly the same thing. But, bottom line, life isn't fair and things don't always turn out as planned. Playing by the rules doesn't ensure success. I guess the key in living with a dream denied is to realize going in that nothing is guaranteed, and that if there isn't value and joy in the journey, maybe the dream wasn't worthwhile after all.