I began this post months ago.The subject of finding meaning in sport has presented itself to me several different times in several different ways this year. However, I struggled to articulate what I was feeling and observing, so the piece has remained dormant until now.
An athlete in search of meaning, that was me in the spring. Surprisingly, I’d just enjoyed a great early season in my running; several PR’s came earlier than anticipated, and one would expect I’d be inspired. Instead, I was blindsided by what I semi-jokingly call, an existential running crisis. Simply, I had accomplished all the goals I had aspired to for the year, and was demotivated. For the first time I really asked myself the question, “why do I do this? What does it matter if I run fast?” In fact, what does it matter if any of us run faster, become stronger, jump higher, or score better? Why do we put so much effort into training? Why does sport deserve so much of us?
Around the same time, friends and fellow athletes expressed similar thoughts. A few, extremely elite and accomplished, explained that their relationship with sport just wasn’t what it used to be. The goals weren’t meaningful enough to devote their whole lives to anymore; they felt like they had lost something.
The more I thought about it, our relationship with sport is exactly that, a relationship. Just like a marriage between humans there are stages: First there is attraction, then getting to know one another, followed in many cases by infatuation! I smile as I write this, because most of us can share in the experience of infatuation as bliss and desire, anguish and intensity; all in all captivating drama that seems overwhelmingly meaningful. Personally, I was breathing infatuation for high level equestrian sport for 15 years, far longer than it lasts in most human partnerships! But sport, like a lover, is imperfect. Over time the relationship changes in extremely varied ways. Lust can evolve into commitment, passion can become habit; what was once exciting can become obligatory. From my own experience I’ve realized this change doesn’t have to result from disappointment or struggle. It can happen simply with the passage of time, perhaps from the discovery of other interests that matter, or from a changing perspective of how sport fits in life.
Through my work in psychology, I have studied the science of well-being. Recent research identifies five components of well-being: Positive emotionality, engagement, meaning, positive relationships and achievement. Any athlete will realize that sport encompasses all five components. So, upon initial examination of my own reasons for participating in sport, maintaining my well-being was an easy explanation. We make all sorts of choices for our health don’t we? We eat nutritious food, we get enough sleep, we visit the doctor and the dentist. Was my choice to continue sport for the sake of my mental and physical health going to become as common sense and mundane as these?
Enter philosophy. I attended a class in existentialism at Langara College this summer. Existentialism is a branch of philosophy that deals with the question of the meaning of existence, specifically one’s individual meaning for existence that he or she is free to create. One observation, made by Huston Smith, stands out from these studies: He describes the human condition as a “tension between dust and the divine.” Essentially, this means that as human beings we are constantly aware of our limitations (dust), but we also have a sense of our infinite potential: What we could, and think we ought to be (the divine). Now, by divine I am not referring to any specific religious entity. We all have our own conceptions of the divine. I am simply acknowledging that there is much we do not know about human possibilities, and it is part of human nature to suspect that we can be more than we are. This notion, that we can be more than we are, is the tension between “dust” and “divine.”
So, as humans we feel compelled, compelled to strive. For some of us it is in art, for some academics, for some it is in business or trade. For me, and for many of you, it is in sport. There is meaning in striving that is completely separate from an end result. By the daily act of training, of pushing our limits, of struggling, of coming up short sometimes, we reach for our divine. Striving satisfies us and relieves some of the tension within. In striving, we are authentic. Just as the fulfillment of many physical desires bring peace, so does an honest struggle in our achievement arena of choice.
Personally, I believe we are hard-wired for struggle, for it is often the shaping mechanism of our character. Goals provide a target, a direction in which to struggle, but the reward, the “fix” is the travail itself, and who we become as a result. These beliefs, finally articulated, have become my reason for my participation in sport, for my willingness, now eagerness to try, and fail, and try again. I am reinspired.
Several years ago, I came across a quote that struck a chord with me. The following comes from a book called “The Other Kingdom” by Victor Price. It is a fictional tale about an Olympic runner, and this quote describes it’s main character:
He was fully defined now: One of the great clan that defies practicality, dedicating itself to the imaginary and the useless. What he did ploughed no field, raised no city; but without the impulse he represented, there would be no fields and no cities. His reward: a feeling inside. His punishment for failure: laughter. Both were air, no more.
To me the quote has two key points: One, that sport does represent an impulse, a striving in it’s purest form. Yes, high level sport is a selfish pursuit in most ways, but to me it represents hope and human potential, and therefore inspires many in all areas of life. The second point, is that for success or failure, the result is “air no more.” Although, not a point directly associated with meaning, it makes me feel there is nothing to lose by striving. Athletes, new and elite, I hope you can derive as much meaning from this as I can, because you represent this movement.
So, as the summer gives way to hints of gold and nostalgia cools the air, I continue my striving with a sense of new meaning; I’m reaching for my divine for the sheer pleasure and growth such reaching enables. As in any relationship passion ebbs and flows, and I am grateful for the deeper appreciation I have for my sport. Like any worthwhile partnership, struggle can strengthen a bond, increase feelings of connection, grow complexity and depth, and create meaning far superior to flighty feelings of infatuation.
“All things were suddenly possible; then what was possible became necessary.”
-Victor Price, The Other Kingdom
Sweet Performance 