There is a scene in the film ‘Chariots of Fire’, where the runner Harold Abrahams sits in the dressing room having won the ultimate individual sports competition, the Olympic 100m gold. There is no elation, in fact the scene depicts him with feelings of emptiness, looking rather flat, probably quite unlike how he thought he would feel. I have no idea whether this is a true depiction of the real life events it charts, but it certainly spoke to me as I recall that scene more vividly than any other from films I haven’t seen for years…
A Scene of My Own
May 2010. Isle of Skye, west coast of Scotland. It’s unusually hot, in fact the hottest day on Skye that year, 25 degrees. It’s a rare, beautiful, blue sky day with only a few ripples of clouds and there are stunning views all around.
But I’m not seeing any of this properly through my weary, sweat-soaked eyes. For at this moment I’m focussed on the road, slogging up the umpteenth hill of the day on a bike, a man on a mission. The euphoria from earlier has gone as my legs have turned to stone blocks, but as I close in on hour number five, the aim remains: complete the 95 miles (155 kilometres) and 3000 metres of climbing and get back before as many people as possible. It’s not really a sports competition as it’s not officially a race. But you couldn’t convince me of that, nor the guys who left me behind at hour three.
I’m not the fastest, but I reassure myself with being faster than most and that pushing, pushing, pushing will bring me the rewards I seek. The satisfaction of another goal conquered, another box ticked.
Giving Up? Not an Option
I can barely turn the pedals and can feel the burn in my muscles go deep – right to the bone, constant low-level agony. I stop at one point, wanting to give up, but that isn’t an option; I’m in a sporting competition with myself, the ultimate contest.
Finally, with the last hill climbed, it’s downhill and with the wind behind me it’s a fast, free ride into the finish line. It still hurts but it’s faster now and the end is in sight. As I make it back I have a satisfied feeling as I collapse on the floor of the village hall to gather myself. This isn’t a big deal to me, it’s what I do – cycle far, run fast, swim hard.
Competitive sports are within me, a part of how I identify myself.
As I take stock and refuel (we athletes don’t call it eating so much as filling up) like a car at the garage, the adrenaline that’s been pushing me around this island starts to leave my body and the glow is replaced with hard reality… what now? I came here alone so there’s no-one here to share the moment with: I’m a little bit lost, what will I do now… with the rest of the weekend?
I head back to the B&B, I shower away the sweat and grime and then I slump on the bed, exhausted and with a fair bit of heatstroke and dehydration. I am alone with myself, properly connected to my body in a quiet stillness for the first moment today, no longer shutting down to the clear signals it has been giving me for the last few hours. Feelings of emptiness arise that grip me, then slowly… tears roll down my cheeks, and an almost desolate feeling takes over.
My body cannot hide how I truly feel after a sports competition – empty and sad.
Starting to Question
Looking back, it’s actually beautiful to feel the tears and the strong sadness that comes with it. But at the time it was confusing: I should be euphoric, right?… another great achievement, a fantastic personal effort. But instead I’m unsettled and unfulfilled. I can kid myself that I’m proud of myself, tell myself how not many others can do this, but deep down I question…
Why am I doing this? When will it ever be enough? What is the point of putting myself through this pain, triumphing over another in a sports competition, investing in being faster, fitter, harder? This isn’t a new feeling but it is stronger and clearer than ever. Where am I really going with all this, where does it end, and what am I really looking for?
A New Approach
Fast forward to today and I don’t do this to my body anymore.
But I had to go through a lot more pain to get to this point, a lot more of these kind of races and a lot more feelings of emptiness.
Competitive sport always brought disappointment: I could finish first and it would be the same feeling. There was no eureka moment where I said enough, stop! It just happened over time as I learned what it is to truly respect my body, exercise within my limits and create a healthier vital presence.
After all, how can it be healthy to be constantly tired, hungry and anxious about fitting in more training?
For because I was super-fit, I was considered ‘healthy’ – but no way! You can’t be healthy if you are constantly tired, always hungry, with swinging moods and anxious about fitting in more training.
So now, instead of fighting my way through exercise, there is no clock to race and I stop when I’m tired. I feel lighter on my feet and eat foods to nourish me, not to fill the engine.
Recognising it’s about how I am too.
The way I am overall has changed too: now it’s about the quality of my being as well as honouring what I feel in my body. I am more with myself around others so they get a much better version of me, and I no longer have that restless feeling that whatever training I do is not going to be enough. I get out of bed easily in the mornings without having to unglue my eyes as I did before.
I can concentrate on tasks and engage with people with clarity and purpose. I can share more fun, more joy and loving moments with others, no longer distracted by this solitary, self-centred pursuit of feelings of emptiness that competitive sports always brought me.
And all this came about because I heard presentations by Serge Benhayon and Universal Medicine which inspired me to reconnect to what I had felt for years but overridden because it wasn’t what society was telling me, leading me to doubt myself.
Choosing a New Way to Be
I don’t need to outdo others to feel amazing: now I know if a feeling comes from within my body it is always true and that it’s infinitely self-caring to respect it.
And I know that sport isn’t the fix it’s made out to be and can be self-perpetuating, damagingly so, and really quite, quite sad.
There is another way to be that respects your own body and doesn’t rely on outdoing others or being faster or fitter or stronger to feel amazing.
Being with myself is more fulfilling than any race or sports competition and from that being, my potential living feels limit-less. I reckon that’s the way I will now choose, to no longer be in pursuit of the feelings of emptiness.
My deepest appreciation goes to Serge Benhayon and Universal Medicine, for showing me a different way to be.
by Stephen, United Kingdom
Further Reading:
True Strength – One Man’s Experience Of Body Building
Shock! I Achieved A High Level Of Fitness With Gentle Exercise!
Vitality versus Fitness
698 Comments
‘ now I know if a feeling comes from within my body it is always true and that it’s infinitely self-caring to respect it.’ That’s it, Stephen, and honouring consistently what we feel within, is what gives us access to true wellbeing.
Thank you Stephen, adding to what you have shared about Olympic Gold, could it be our Golden Essences as a divine connection is all the Golden-glory we can aspire to, and thus standing in front of us is all the most glorious full-fill-ment we will ever need.
From a young age we learn to override our bodies and competing at sports just hones this disregard to an even greater degree. So sad that this is championed by so many to the great detriment of all the bodies involved.
Sports to me was all about the team and the party after.
A beautiful exercise in listening to the communication of truth from the body offering a way to be fit for life.
We can use exercise to be reckless, to disregard our bodies or to crush another – or – we can exercise to build our bodies, to keep ourselves healthy and ready to take on whatever life gives us – I know which I prefer.
That loneliness you describe applies to any competition, now that you’re done, and exposes clearly our lack of connection to us when we are in those states. For ultimately it’s about living in a way that respects and honours who we are and the body we live in.
What an amazing and invaluable realisation to have come to, ‘I don’t need to outdo others to feel amazing: now I know if a feeling comes from within my body it is always true and that it’s infinitely self-caring to respect it.’
A great sharing Stephen, on Competitive sports, I am sure most competitors of any sports feel what you have expressed from time to time, in their intimate feelings. A beautiful realisation of the emptiness of this pursuit. “I don’t need to outdo others to feel amazing: now I know if a feeling comes from within my body it is always true and that it’s infinitely self-caring to respect it. “
Seeing the emptiness of sport and competition is, I feel, a stop moment at the end of a long journey of investment in what these elements of life can give if they are chosen.
The end result of any pushing and striving doesn’t make all that effort worth it if we give our body a permission to be honest and say how we truly feel.
I recently listened to a presentation by an athlete who had recently competed in the Commonwealth Games, it was supposed to be an inspirational talk yet myself and colleagues could feel that there were unresolved issues that was driving this person in their pursuit of being the best and this was harming them greatly, but because their success is rewarded in society it allowed the person to continue in this momentum but at what expense? What happens when they can no longer race, when the body is finished with this? How does he then know himself?
A very needed line of questioning Jude: “…at what expense? What happens when they can no longer race, when the body is finished with this? How does he then know himself?”
The community who heralds and champions sport are a huge part of the issue.
What really comes across in your writing is how in order to achieve this level of success your whole life is taken over with the training and preparation and then attending the events which leaves no room for anything else and presumably part of the emptiness you feel after the event is that your life is lacking meaningful purpose when it is dedicated to something that drains you so completely and leaves you feeling so isolated.
How great that you started to question how you felt after these sporting events, what was the purpose, what was really at play here, ‘part of the emptiness you feel after the event is that your life is lacking meaningful purpose when it is dedicated to something that drains you so completely and leaves you feeling so isolated.’
Thank you for exposing the emptiness of competitive sport and how even if you reach the so called pinnacle you are still left with the emptiness of having left yourself in order to push your body way past its limits to reach some predetermined goal that is always to our own detriment both personally and in leaving others in our wake.
Stephen, I love the very important point you make about, how in order to feel amazing it is not necessary to surpass or outdo another, it it simply about being our true selves. This is something that the world needs to hear about.
Having a strong body that is fit for life and fit for purpose and ready to go feels amazing, but why would you ever need the strongest body or to have a fitter body than someone else. If we’re constantly comparing or competing with other people it makes sense that we feel that what we have is never enough – what if it is actually perfectly enough but our gaze is simply in the wrong direction.
” I stop at one point, wanting to give up, but that isn’t an option; I’m in a sporting competition with myself, the ultimate contest. ”
Is it not shocking what we will do to ourselves, to our body to fit into the sadness of the world.
Very few would admit that that is what we strive to fit in with, the sadness and struggle of the world but it’s exactly what we do if we aren’t living in the joy of being ourselves.
” So now, instead of fighting my way through exercise, there is no clock to race and I stop when I’m tired. I feel lighter on my feet and eat foods to nourish me, not to fill the engine. ”
This is so lovely and caring , when the body is tired , its a simple message to pay attention to.
Beautiful sharing Stephen – heartfelt. I love this line to take into my day – “I don’t need to outdo others to feel amazing: now I know if a feeling comes from within my body it is always true and that it’s infinitely self-caring to respect it.” I would rather feel awkward or even anxiousness knowing the potential I have to reflect on my feelings than to pursue competition already surpassing comparison and wanting recognition leading to the inevitable emptiness.
Thank you Stephen – nailed it!
The images provided to us of competitive sports including the elation and the deflation can convince us that competition is a great thing, a part of life, a way to feel great. And yet here in this blog I think you speak for many when you say, the end result when you arrive at home is emptiness.
This is an awesome blog and offers a lot to consider. I enjoyed reading what you shared about how you felt after the race- that you were there on your own and that there was a feeling of emptiness and lack of purpose. It is interesting to consider what we are running away from when we go into this and that it is always there, no matter what the outcome, the issues will always resurface. It explains why so many famous sports stars lose it. You think they have everything and on the surface it looks this way but if they can go to a life of drug or alcohol abuse or struggling with relationships it shows that this is not it.
How is ‘beating’ another ever going to truly fulfill one’s empty life. We can only fill up from the inside (which is not really filling up but rather deepening our connection within) and when that overflows everyone feels it ( which is really the deeper we connect within the more connected we are with the All)
No judgement intended but what an awful way to live, punishing our bodies to the point of complete numbness and emptiness. And before Serge Benhayon, we couldn’t see what was wrong with this so lost were we all. A great expose Stephen, beautiful honesty and an amazing turnaround.
Competition is an insidious but very prevalent part of our human existence, many claim it is good for us, others that at the very least it is necessary, but perhaps we need to study what life is like without competition, will the world really not flourish if there is no competitiveness, I somehow doubt this and believe the opposite may in fact occur.
I appreciate the honesty here and can understand why others might choose copious amounts of alcohol after a sporting event – anything to keep the illusion going and keep the feelings of emptiness at bay.