Bode Miller, one of the greatest and most entertaining ski racers of all time, is on the verge of racking his race skis for the last time. Maybe. He’s leaning that way, they say. At 37, he’s had a pretty good run. His life has been full of winning, excitement, disappointment, injury, partying and living large as a celebrated global athlete.
The world watched him go a little crazy in his younger years, cheered him on to his Olympic and World Cup medals, questioned his choices and his lack of training, marveled at his ridiculous and raw talent, and watched his great performance and disappointing injury at the Olympics last year. He went through painful back surgery this fall in hopes of skiing in the World Championships in Beaver Creek this month.
We all looked up the hill and hoped for more spectacular-ness from Bode as he started on the Super G course last week. He was flying, leading the field. Crazy and on the edge. Classic Bode. And then, he crashed. It was horrendous to watch. His ski sliced a tendon in his leg, requiring surgery.
In an interview afterward, he said he is considering being done as a racer. He has two small children and a beautiful, talented wife. He has priorities other than chasing a dream that he has already lived. He can’t put the level of intensity into his training that competing at the World Cup level requires. Sounds to me like his heart isn’t in it anymore.
I can relate.
Perhaps one of the harder things in life is knowing when to say when. If the inner desire is gone, do you call it quits or push through? Do you dig deep or throw in the towel? When is enough enough?
If you walk away from something you have worked hard for and been successful at, something that other people are clambering to achieve, are you a quitter? Are you ungrateful for what you have? Will you regret giving it up? Or will you be freed? Will you be someone who knows yourself and lives accordingly?
Bode Miller’s body has been through the ringer, for sure, but he probably has a few more medals in him. I’m guessing a lot of athletes would give some small body part to have the ability that he has right now. And yet, he is considering giving it up even though the rest of the world is crying for him to stay in it. Good for him.
To thine own self be true.
If you’re in a profession for a certain length of time, it can become tiresome. The shine wears off. You get down-trodden, bedraggled. Wouldn’t it be great if we didn’t have to make a choice to walk away when we have a loss of heart? We could have a sort of train track switch to shift us in another direction, triggered at that point when we just don’t have whatever it is anymore. We wouldn’t have to confront the need to make a change — it would just be done for us. No fear of second-guessing or regret. No judgment. That guy’s dragging big time at his accounting firm, CHING, he’s off to become a developer. This one’s lost his curiosity as a surgeon, BOOM, he’s on his way to teaching origami.
Most of us don’t feel that we have the luxury of changing course when our heart isn’t in it. We hang on much longer than we should. Most of us are tied to the income, the status, the comfort of what we know. We fear failure, we fear what others will think, we fear starting over. We fear. What would our world look like if more of us let go of the fear and followed our heart?