Happy New Year!
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Hello Everyone!
Welcome to 2009! I hope that all of you enjoyed some time with friends and family last night and enjoyed ringing in the New Year.
As one year ends and we begin another it is a time of reflection as well as a time when most of us think about what changes we would like to make, hence the run on gym memberships every month of January. In fact, when I once worked in a gym everyone looked forward to the new year because the sales would go through the roof with people looking to fulfill their resolutions to lose weight or get into better shape. The owners would mandate that we oversold the memberships simply because the other thing that was as sure as people wanting to lose weight was that a month or two in, most of them would be gone…
It was always sad to see these people join with this new gusto, only for them to lose motivation or for life to simply get in the way.
It really isn’t that much different for us and the business that we are in. We set out our plan to accomplish all of our goals and as time goes on and we it a speed bump here or there we lose our motivation and sometimes we even lose hope.
Now, if you know me at all y now, you know there is a story coming. This one has always given me so many thoughts about our need to lean on others and to also realize that success can never happen alone… (now this is a long one, but trust me that it is worth the time to read!)
Unlike Carl Lewis and Daley Thompson, Derek Redmond is not a name that conjures up memories of Olympic gold medals. But it is Redmond who defines the essence of the human spirit.
Redmond arrived at the 1992 Olympic Summer Games in Barcelona determined to win a medal in the 400. The color of the medal was meaningless; he just wanted to win one. Just one.
He had been forced to withdraw from the 400 at the 1988 Games in Seoul, only 10 minutes before the race, because of an Achilles tendon injury. He then underwent five surgeries over the next year. This was the same runner who had shattered the British 400-meter record at age 19. So when the 1992 Games arrived, this was his time, his moment, his stage, to show the world how good he was and who he was.
Derek’s father Jim had accompanied him to Barcelona, just as he did for all world competitions. They were as close as a father and son could be. Inseparable, really. The best of friends. When Derek ran, it was as if his father were running right next to him.
THE MOMENT
The day of the race arrives. Father and son reminisce about what it took for Derek to get to this point. They talk about ignoring past heartbreaks, past failures. They agree that if anything bad happens, no matter what it is, Derek has to finish the race, period.The top four finishers in each of the two semifinal heats qualify for the Olympic final. As race time approaches for the semifinal 400 heat, Jim heads up to his seat at the top of Olympic Stadium, not far from where the Olympic torch was lit just a few days earlier. He is wearing a T-shirt that reads, “Have you hugged your foot today?”
Derek Redmond
With the help of his father, an injured Derek Redmond completed his race in the 1992 Olympics.The stadium is packed with 65,000 fans, bracing themselves for one of sport’s greatest and most exciting spectacles. The race begins and Redmond breaks from the pack and quickly seizes the lead. “Keep it up, keep it up,” Jim says to himself.
Down the backstretch, only 175 meters away from finishing, Redmond is a shoo-in to make the finals. Suddenly, he hears a pop. In his right hamstring. He pulls up lame, as if he had been shot.
“Oh, no,” Jim says to himself. His face pales. His leg quivering, Redmond begins hopping on one leg, then slows down and falls to the track. As he lays on the track, clutching his right hamstring, a medical personnel unit runs toward him. At the same time, Jim Redmond, seeing his son in trouble, races down from the top row of the stands, sidestepping people, bumping into others. He has no credential to be on the track, but all he thinks about is getting to his son, to help him up. “I wasn’t going to be stopped by anyone,” he later tells the media.
On the track, Redmond realizes his dream of an Olympic medal is gone. Tears run down his face. “All I could think was, ‘I’m out of the Olympics — again,’” he would say.
As the medical crew arrives with a stretcher, Redmond tells them, “No, there’s no way I’m getting on that stretcher. I’m going to finish my race.”
Then, in a moment that will live forever in the minds of millions, Redmond lifts himself to his feet, ever so slowly, and starts hobbling down the track. The other runners have finished the race, with Steve Lewis of the U.S. winning the contest in 44.50. Suddenly, everyone realizes that Redmond isn’t dropping out of the race by hobbling off to the side of the track. No, he is actually continuing on one leg. He’s going to attempt to hobble his way to the finish line. All by himself. All in the name of pride and heart.
Slowly, the crowd, in total disbelief, rises and begins to roar. The roar gets louder and louder. Through the searing pain, Redmond hears the cheers, but “I wasn’t doing it for the crowd,” he would later say. “I was doing it for me. Whether people thought I was an idiot or a hero, I wanted to finish the race. I’m the one who has to live with it.”
One painful step at a time, each one a little slower and more painful than the one before, his face twisted with pain and tears, Redmond limps onward, and the crowd, many in tears, cheer him on.
Suddenly, Jim Redmond finally gets to the bottom of the stands, leaps over the railing, avoids a security guard, and runs out to his son, with two security people chasing after him. “That’s my son out there,” he yells back to security, “and I’m going to help him.”
Finally, with Derek refusing to surrender and painfully limping along the track, Jim reaches his son at the final curve, about 120 meters from the finish, and wraps his arm around his waist.
“I’m here, son,” Jim says softly, hugging his boy. “We’ll finish together.” Derek puts his arms around his father’s shoulders and sobs.
Together, arm in arm, father and son, with 65,000 people cheering, clapping and crying, finish the race, just as they vowed they would. A couple steps from the finish line, and with the crowd in an absolute frenzy, Jim releases the grip he has on his son, so Derek could cross the finish line by himself. Then he throws his arms around Derek again, both crying, along with everyone in the stands and on TV.
“I’m the proudest father alive,” he tells the press afterwards, tears in his eyes. “I’m prouder of him than I would have been if he had won the gold medal. It took a lot of guts for him to do what he did.”
And, of course, the video of the moment:
What an amazing story! If you are struggling or simply looking to build your career to a new level, you need the support of others to help you get there. Be it a coach, mentor, friend, etc. we each need our own version of both the cheering crowd and the friend that will help carry us when the obstacles seem too great. It is our vision and goal to partner with you in finishing the race and accomplishing your goals.
Here is to your continued success for this New Year and beyond!
(Story by Rick Weinberg of ESPN.com)
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Wow, an emotional and powerful story on so many fronts. A gentle yet strong reminder of the power we each hold inside. Best to all for a wonderful year with many more to follow.