7 Lessons: What Training for the Olympics Taught Me About Building a Successful Business

Maybe because I’m an artist or maybe because I was a gymnast…either way, I love that The Official Website of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games now lists the sport as Gymnastics Artistic.

It defines the competition as, “A perfect fusion of athletics and aesthetics, gymnastics ranks among the defining sports of the Olympic Games. Mixing strength and agility with style and grace, the high-flying acrobats have provided many of the most breathtaking Olympic spectacles.”

I couldn’t agree more.  I know because I trained day in, day out for years as a young Olympic hopeful.

One fateful night (and one heartless hit and run driver later) the course of my life was changed, ensuring that an Olympic Gold was not part of the plan for me. So when the Summer Games approach, bittersweet memories typically surface. 

After my life-altering accident, it seemed it was all for nothing. I had worked so hard my whole life, I had trained relentlessly, acquired massive amounts of self-discipline, gave up on having a normal childhood…and for what? 

Well, three years into building my business, I finally understand that it all had a purpose. 

The first thing I learned about achieving success started with competitive sports, specifically Gymnastics Artistic!

JUNIOR OLYMPICS INVITATIONAL | CIRCA SOMETIME LAST CENTURY

A quick tug to my leotard removes the annoying wedgie that always finds its way into my butt-crack. I approach the boundary line, arch my back and wave my right hand high into the air. This single-handed salute signifies to the judges that I am ready for my routine.

Two bars into Hernando’s Hideaway, I tango into the hearts of my judges and teammates alike. 

Deep breath in, I prepare for my last run. This is the gold medal moment. After all, I’m a highly-trained eight year old athlete.

Charging ahead with the fearlessness of a defensive lineman, I tackle my biggest tumbling run to date. I punch it. I’m flying high and flipping fast. Then a thud – and blood – everywhere.

Weighing in at a whopping 35 lbs, it’s sort of hard to imagine any strength whatsoever. In fact, from the ages of 6-11, I didn’t appear to have a mid-section. Lacking a definable torso and legs that looked like they were growing out of my neck, I was always told I should have been a ballerina. No doubt, I was definitely born to dance, but acrobatics appealed to the young risk-taker in me.

It seems, even as a kid, I was out to prove that I could do things people said I couldn’t, even if it meant getting a little banged up in the process.

This time? A broken nose.

In an effort to make the full rotation and not land on my head, I pull my knees in tight to turn my body into the tiniest ball possible. Most third-graders don’t pay much attention to physics, but since my face and the floor were familiar with one another, I learned pretty early on about the laws of gravity.  So, my right knee slams hard into my nose.

OMG…I feel the burn shooting through my brain and now I’m bleeding all over the mat.

But I pick myself up, finish my routine and with a blood-stained face, salute the judges.

Without an ounce of hesitation, I turn to wave to my audience.  Embarrassed, dizzy and utterly disappointed that the gold is now out of reach, my glazed-eyes doing nothing to hide my pain.

Then something amazing happens.

I receive the first “real” applause of my life.  Not the obligatory cheers from my teammates or the singular clapping sound of my mom in the stands, but actual applause from the entire crowd.

It’s not that I was the only gymnast to suffer some sort of physical catastrophe that day, yet I was the only one that pushed through the excruciating pain to place in the top three. A bronze medal doesn’t warrant the same bragging rights as does the gold, but even at eight years old, I knew that having guts meant getting some glory.

Isn’t it funny that the foundation of your whole personality can be formed at such a young age?

NEED TO BE A PERFECT 10?  NO!

After years of trying to deconstruct how I was able to translate dire situations into my dream career…I realized that it starts with learning how to give a great performance.

You don’t have to be flawless; you just have to make the most of what you’ve got — so when people are watching, they focus on the things you do well, while the stuff your not as good at (yet) can be improved upon with more practice.

Whether you’re throwing a round-off, flip-flop, full-twisting double-back or you’re brave enough to start your own business, both require you to take some calculated risks.

The first time you go for it is the scariest.  After that, you gain a little more confidence. But every time you throw yourself or your ideas up in the air, there’s a chance that you might fall flat on your face.

As kids, most of us are pretty resilient. We take a tumble, shake it off and try again. But the older we get, the less likely we are to try something new – because now we know – mistakes in judgment can be pretty painful.

But there’s just no way around it. No matter what you’re doing, if you want to be successful at it, you have to take some risks. If you are tremendously risk-averse, here are some important tips to help you overcome this barrier to success:

MY 7 LESSONS LEARNED AS AN ASPIRING OLYMPIAN

1. A public failure is not fatal. Rising above your mistake earns you respect.
2. Flexibility is fundamental to your success.  You shouldn’t bend over backwards for everyone, but in certain situations it’s necessary.
3. Increase your threshold for pain. The more pain you’ve endured, the more confidence you have in your ability to overcome it.
4. Practice the things you are not as good at twice as much as the things you are.  Is this one as hard for you as it is for me?
5. Always go for the gold – even when you know you’re not as naturally skilled as your competitors. Concerted effort combined with innate talent is far more effective than depending on talent alone.
6. Don’t waste precious energy resenting the person who is ahead of you, just focus on improving your own routine. The success of others can serve to motivate you, but ultimately, the only one you should be concerned about competing with is yourself. 
7. Someone is always judging you, but never let their scorecard affect how you feel about yourself. Judges in gymnastics, like in life, are not the ones out there in the spotlight assuming all the risk.