For many obvious reasons, Tiger Woods is all over the news right now. What is unfortunate, I think, is that the salacious nature of the unfolding story is masking a broader lesson here that few people are bothering to consider.
Hero? Or human?
One of the dangers of putting all of your hopes and dreams into the hands of one person is that inevitably, at some point, that person is likely to let you down. It may be a small letdown, as in a ‘you weren’t there for me when I needed you’ situation, or it may be a rather large one, as in Tiger’s case. But none of us is perfect, which is a reality some have a hard time accepting.
Among many others that I will share in due time, I have two strong beliefs: 1) that man is fallen, and 2) that the world is not a perfect place, and no activist, actor, politician, or athlete will ever make it that way. Tiger Woods was advertised as the savior of golf, and a saint of professional sports. But that’s a lot of weight for a mere mortal to carry.
There’s nothing wrong with having heroes. I certainly have mine, and they have inspired me to do positive things I would otherwise probably not have done. But there’s a distinct difference between inspiration and worship.
Runners can fall victim to hero-worship, just like other athletes. As a coach, I often told my athletes what Ned Brazelton, my high school cross country coach, often told me: “in this sport, you have to believe in yourself.” The fact is that running is a solitary sport. You can form some of the strongest friendships in your life with people with whom you regularly run, but at the end of the day, they will never run your race for you. You have to want it for yourself.
In team sports, you win as a team, and you lose as a team. Thus, no one can accept all the glory; neither can anyone shoulder all the blame. The fact that running makes you responsible for your own letdowns is a scary thing. But I also believe it’s one of the most empowering experiences in sports.
Running has a long history of heroes who have made the sport, and its adherents, proud: Jesse Owens, standing up against the forces of fascism in the 1936 Berlin Olympics; Roger Bannister, becoming the first man to break the 4-minute mile; Steve Prefontaine, capturing the hearts of and inspiring an entire generation of Americans to put on their shoes and start running.
But none of these people were perfect. It was Charles Barkley who, in a Nike commercial from the early 1990s, said: “I am not a role model.” I remember seeing that as a high schooler, thinking it was an arrogant thing to say. But there’s some wisdom in the remark. Barkley was warning his audience: don’t put 100 percent of your faith in me, because I might just let you (and your kids) down.
Remember that as a runner, you can turn to others for inspiration, and some can even motivate you to do great things. But at the end of the day, it all comes down to what you have in your heart. Do you have the will to succeed? Do you have confidence that you can tackle anything that comes your way? Trust yourself, and you’ll be amazed by what you can do.
