 |
Making
things happen - with integrity. A weekly CyberMemo designed to keep you on task. Monday October 2, 2000 Volume II Number 40
|
FOCUS - Peak Performance
As of this morning, one more marathon of Olympic coverage has come to an end. The flaming Torch that illumined the mighty stadium, the city of Sydney, and a world united in its fascination with The Games, has been extinguished. And we can now return to those other demands on our time and attention.
Perhaps the greatest appeal of Olympic competition is the awareness that every single chase after that illusive Gold Medal involves exceptionally gifted athletes who have prepared for this moment of truth for years. They have sacrificed. Trained endlessly. Pushed the envelope. Ventured out there way beyond comfort. They have had a singular focus. They’ve endured the pain, the monotonous workouts; the bruises and blisters and pulled muscles and sore joints. They have gathered together the best of the best; the best trainers, the best conditioning, the best nutrition; stretching mind and body; timing the cycles so that on that one day of final competition, performance will be scheduled to peak.
As the camera moves in close at the starting line, and the face fills the screen, we can only imagine the mental pressure. Knowing how much can go wrong; how easy for one misstep, one slight slip, one small stumble to destroy one’s chances. We can, in a small way, imagine how much time and energy have been marshaled for this one moment of performance. And we are filled with admiration – and sit at the edge of our seats wondering… who will win? And warm tears fill our eyes when the Red, White and Blue of Old Glory rise to the ceiling first, and our American Hero(s) adorned in glittering Gold steps to the highest platform, arms extended upward, hands open, receiving all those accolades pouring out from heaven and earth, and the familiar strains of the National Anthem of the United States of America fill the stadium.
“…the land of the Free - and the home of the Brave!” Something deep inside gets all stirred up.
You and I claim, at least, to be aiming at Peak Performance. We say, “I abhor mediocrity.” “The worst body temperature is lukewarm – give me hot or cold, but lukewarm’s gotta go.” “I wanna be my best, look my best, do my best.” “In my arena, I’m gunna be a front runner.”
And these are admirable claims, indeed.
But one of the harsh realities of the Olympiad is facing how far we fall short of those lofty goals. The television images are like a mirror, reflecting back what might have been, or what ought to be, or what could become, if only we had the discipline, the persistence, the determination… the will to excel at that next level.
What does it take to move us from the role of admiring observer, to active participant?
I’m not talking about the Games of the Twenty-Seventh Olympiad… or the Twenty-Eighth for that matter… I’m talking about the Game of Life.
* * * * * * *
Some people believe that religious faith, especially the fervent kind, is the enemy of Peak Performance.
They will tell you that syrupy religiosity is a placebo for the weak. They applaud the Marxist view that religion is the “Opiate of the Masses.” That faith provides an imaginary friend for the lonely; an escape from real relationships. That it is an anesthesia for the soul, numbing mind and body into blissful avoidance. That it fills in the intellectual gaps for the ignorant with imaginary and mysterious solutions to the riddles of life, and thus robs the illiterate of any motivation to learn. That it reinforces passivity, causing the faithful to retreat from the duty to engage reality and instead hide in a quiet prayer closet. For these people, religious faith encourages separation, and isolation, and chauvinistic loyalties that breed contempt. They will tell you that religion is the tool of the powerful to insure the loyalty of mindless subjects. It is the fuel that drives the zealot into bloody battles, justifying the horrors of war and other atrocities against humankind.
And sadly, history books give them some disturbing evidence to support their point of view.
Others will argue differently.
They will tell you that religious faith energizes the highest hopes of the human race. That it instills one with the sense of connection with the creative power of the Cosmos. That the rational order of the Universe sparks a lifetime of curiosity to understand Science, and research further into the mysteries of everything from the macro to the micro. That faith connects one to the great virtues. It becomes the motivation to build character. It is the bridge that links one generation to the next. Faith awakens human sensitivities. It expands awareness. It triggers creativity in the arts. It is the originator of compassion. It is the cornerstone of Pathos – empathy, sympathy, caring – are rooted in faith. Wonder, mystery, a sense of awe – drive a passion for understanding – and spring from faith. Faith is the secret in striving for the higher good. Self-confidence, a willingness to risk, rebounding from defeat, all come from faith they will point out.
Some say religious faith is responsible for racism, sexism, war, and psychosis; it justifies crime, distorts reality, and rewards evil dictators.
Others will counter: religious faith overcomes the barriers of race, leads to mutual respect between the sexes, and brings warring factions to the table of reconciliation; it cures the criminal, illumines reality, and brings evil dictators to justice.
I guess one could conclude, then, that there is bad faith. And good faith.
And if you are still interested in Peak Performance, you ought to reject the bad and embrace the good.
* * * * * * * *
Laura Wilkinson was a gymnast who took her skills on the mat, the balance beam, the vault and the uneven bars to the ten-meter diving platform. At the University of Texas, Laura competed as a springboard and platform diver, winning the National competition three times – 1997, 1998 and 1999. In 1998, she won a fifth place in the World Competition – the best for an American woman.
In international platform competition, the Chinese dominated – for sixteen years. Going into the Olympic Aquatic Center, few believed an American could do what no other American had done in the past four Olympic competitions. The Chinese Li Na and Sang Xue were favored to bring home the Gold and the Silver.
Laura finished fifth in the semi-finals – her performance there put her in the finals, and in Medal contention.
From there, Laura Wilkinson entered The Zone. It’s that place few ever visit – that moment, that time and place in history, when years of preparation, unwavering determination, an unmatched skill level, peak physical conditioning - all come together as an eager world watches on.
It was an extraordinary performance.
Perhaps she remembered her broken foot, which last year kept her from her rigorous workout schedule. She overcame it to win the Nationals. Now, as she climbed the latter to the top of the platform over thirty feet above the water, a serenity seemed to fall on her like the calm of a placid mountain lake at sunset.
Her family began to cheer – loud enough to fill the arena with joyous support for a woman standing alone high above the pool. The camera’s lens, a long telephoto, filled the television screen with the face of a focused athlete, now poised to spring off the edge, leaping into the open air, freefalling, twisting, turning into somersaults and then somehow, at the entry finishing vertical, piercing the surface upside down, arms outstretched, followed by a body in full and straight extension, toes pointing to the sky, slipping into the water like a javelin, with barely a trace of a splash. That was the plan.
As Laura settled on the platform, at the ready, she drew a deep breath, slowly closing her eyes in a relaxation exercise she knew well, and trusted. As the cheering swelled to a crescendo, she knew exactly where to find her family in the crowd. Most athletes at this moment of truth seem to fall into a trance that is designed to block out every distraction, including the noisy crowd. But not Laura. As she exhaled and opened her eyes, she turned deliberately to her supporters, and her face somehow captured their joy and their expectation. Over the distance, her eyes met theirs, and she smiled. A warm, affectionate, affirming smile. As though across the bleachers and the pool, and up to the heights of the platform, she received something powerful from them – their belief, their admiration, their love. She took it in, for just a few memorable moments, taking in their strength and making it her own.
And then she turned her attention to the platform’s edge. The camera never left the close-up. And now her face morphed from a tender smile to a steely stare, a piercing focus as she prepared her approach. A few graceful steps, and then like the release of a tightly coiled spring, she launched herself into space.
A reverse two and a half somersault in the tuck position. Airborne perfection. Vertical, straight entry. No splash. The crowd exploded. As Laura Wilkinson broke the surface, her fist shook skyward in celebration and on that pretty young face, a smile as big as the Olympic spirit. The judges agreed. She nailed it. Her score of 75.33 put serious pressure on the two Chinese. The gold medal favorites felt the heat.
They cracked. Both of Laura’s chief competitors hit mediocre dives on their second and third attempts. Laura advanced to the number one spot on the leader board.
On her final dive, Laura said later, “I thought I had nothing to lose. I didn’t want to hold back.” Like every dive in the competition, she turned once more to her family and smiled, drawing on their strength. And this time, she stuck her most difficult dive – a two and a half somersault with a two and a half twist in the pike position. The judges rewarded her with the highest score of the day – 75.6 points.
And a Gold Medal.
Through tears of joy, Laura acknowledged the congratulations of the NBC reporter, waiting at the edge of the pool. “Laura, you are the first woman to defeat the Chinese in sixteen years. You are an American hero.”
Laura pulled herself out of the water. She was laughing and crying and waving to her family, and tears flowed. The pressure was off. She won the Gold.
“Can you tell us…” the reporter went on, “what was going through your mind as you stood on the platform, knowing how much was at stake on this final, difficult dive? What were you thinking?”
That smile. That magic smile. And this time, her eyes met the reporter’s. And she spoke through tears of celebration with poise and confidence… a quote… from the Bible. Laura Wilkinson said, to an attentive worldwide television audience… her first words as a Gold Medallist…
“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”
Wow.
Indeed.
* * * * * * *
On this Monday morning, you are a leader. And as a leader, you are a performer. And because you are committed to quality, because you pursue excellence and because you care… you want your performance to count. You are not involved in what you do with an intent to lose. You intend to win.
What do you believe in? More important – in whom do you believe?
Some will argue that the doctrine of the separation of church and state means that your faith ought to live in a compartment that only gets opened up on Sunday… or whenever it is that you are doing your religious thing.
Ask Laura Wilkinson – faith is the secret weapon of Peak Performance. She believes in her country. She believes in her trainers. She believes in her family. She believes in herself. And the first and foremost belief that came to her mind on the heels of that remarkable victory – was her belief in God.
Your faith should not lead to avoidance. It should not stifle your curiosity. It is no substitute for hard work, conditioning, continuing education, or self-improvement.
Faith is the essence of things hoped for. The evidence of things not seen.
Embrace it. Today.
© Copyright Kenneth E. Kemp 2000
Special Thanks to my good friend David Belcher, owner of Rhino Media Group and creator of WisdomGram
LeaderFOCUS is a service of Good Stewardship Associates
|
|