It’s archery season, and once again I am spending time in hunting camps watching cable TV hunting shows during downtime. Those shows are like watching the old TV show Fantasy Island, aren’t they? They’re all well and good — until I see some dude (or dudette) shoot one of God’s magnificent creatures, then start fist-pumping, staring into the camera lens and strutting like a peacock on parade. Talk about a lack of respect or humility.
If my dad and grandad had ever seen me doing a touchdown dance in the face an animal I’d shot, they would have set me straight in a millisecond. For men of their generations, respect was bedrock.
Of course, it’s kind of hard to blame today’s younger generations. Their role models, the star athletes and celebrities of today, people that the good Lord blessed with extraordinary talent and luck, thrive on outrageous “look at me” displays of preening and trash talking. It’s become the norm rather than the exception.
Every now and then, though, something happens that helps reset priorities. One such example occurred during the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia, during one of most arduous races, the 15-kilometer (9.32 miles) cross-country skiing competition.
Unless you’re from snow country, you probably have no idea how physically demanding it is to cross-country ski at a fast pace. When I lived in Alaska, I occasionally trained running on the track and in the hills with Sue Forbes, who ended up being an alternate on the women’s U.S. Olympic cross-country ski team. She was so aerobically fit it was mind-boggling. When she and her buddies weren’t skiing, they were winning mountain marathon races. Serious cross country skiers are the toughest of the tough.
In Sochi, Peruvian Roberto Carcelen was racing in the grueling 15-kilometer classic cross-country ski race. He had already made history at the Vancouver Olympics in 2010, when he became Peru’s first Winter Olympic athlete. On this day, however, he was saddled with a severe handicap. Less than 3 weeks before the Olympics began, Roberto fractured several ribs in a training accident. Against his doctor’s advice, Carcelen chose to race, knowing he had zero chance of winning.
If you’ve never had a broken rib — and I have — you cannot imagine how painful it is with every breath you take while trying to simply walk, let alone run a race. I cannot imagine how much it hurt Carcelen every time he planted his ski poles in the snow and drove his legs forward as he gave it everything. On top of everything else, Carcelen had picked up a respiratory infection, which made it hard for him to breathe. Later, Carcelen said, “It was a very difficult race for me. I was in a lot of pain in my right ribs. The Olympic course was so demanding and dangerous. If I fell just once, I was pretty sure I couldn’t get up again and finish the race.”
For Carcelen and his broken ribs, finishing was winning. As he approached the finish line in last place, proudly waving the Peruvian flag, his focus was simply on finishing.
