Ever since I was a little girl I loved watching the Olympics.   But unlike other girls who swooned over the young gold medal gymnasts or the winning swimmers in their sleek suits, I preferred to watch the losers.  Perhaps it is the same reason I became interested in psychology, but my favorite competitors were always the underdogs who despite knowing they had no chance of winning, found an emotionally compelling reason to keep competing.  Their faces were unknown and the amount they had to gain was actually so little comparatively, but what made them such winners to me was how each, in their own way, created a definition of success fully capable of sustaining their years of pain, dedication, and sacrifice.

As in the past, this year’s Olympic Village is full of athletes who inspire me by their ability to find satisfaction beyond fame and fortune, in the mere act of participation.  First, of course, is the ten members of the first ever Refugee Team.  Ok, yes, it makes all of us privileged lazy people look really bad, but how can we not become breathless when people with no homes and no families, no training facilities and poor nutrition, summon the strength to even try?  For example, Rose Nthike lokonyen, from Sudan, made the team despite having to run barefoot in tryouts in the refugee camp. Yolanda Mabika from the Democratic Republic of Congo first took up her Olympic sport of judo in a center for displaced children after she lost both parents.  Perhaps they run or swim just to maintain their sanity, or perhaps it is a way to stay connected to their humanity, but how can you not esteem these individuals as the purest and truest inspiration of the human spirit?

And then there are the people who pave the way:  Sara Ahmed, the first woman to stand on a podium for Egypt, ever (and she had to wait until the Weightlifting Federation approved a special outfit that she felt was okay for her to wear); Ibtihaj Mohammed, the first US athlete to compete in a hijab; Nino Salukvaqze and Tsoqtne Macharanai, the first mother and son to compete in the same Olympic Games; Bernard Lagat, the oldest track athlete still able to qualify at the age of 41; and Ashleigh Johnson, the first black US women’s water polo player.

And then, to really crack a smile, check out the video going viral of the two Philipino men spring board divers who landed flat in the water, literally got scores of “0” and then high fived with smiles in the hot tub!

These are just the people we hear about in the news.  For every athlete that never makes it to even a semi-final, there is a unique history of commitment and passion that we will never know.  What most inspires me is that without the expectation of a medal to define their success, these athletes have the inner strength to set their own personal goals which quietly provide enough meaning to maintain their commitment.  As I think about them, it makes me more sensitive to the stories of hidden triumph all around me – the people overcoming obstacles and personal challenges without much fanfare or economic reward, purely for reasons only they can define.   So, I am grateful for the inspiration every four years of all the Olympic losers, for they truly remind me that we are the meaning makers for our own lives, setting the goals by which only we can truly measure our success.