Last night, we stopped our Care Group discussion to watch Michael Phelps swim for Gold #7. It wasn't a deep, religious discussion or anything, but everyone was watching to clock so we wouldn't miss the race.
When he squeaked by his next competitor, winning by .01 seconds, we all yelled and slumped back into our seats. Then, we heard that the team for the silver medal was posting a protest saying he'd won over Michael. (Silly people!) Anyway, even as the protest was going on, they had the medal ceremony.
As I watched the ceremony, something odd stuck me; usually, if an athlete thinks they have been "cheated" out of gold, they are more that dour on the podium while receiving a silver medal. Not this man - his pride and excitement over winning a silver medal at the Olympic Games shone brightly on his face, and he was truly happy. Would he have been happier with Gold? More than likely. But he had just come within .01 of being the greatest Olympian ever. That's a lot to smile about in any game.
To me, that was the face of the Olympics I'll think of when it's all over. Giving it your very best, and knowing you have been among others just as talented or better. Being at peace with what you've done. And loving it.
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