In my previous post I had a chance to honor the resilience of people to carry on through tough times.  Shortly after, I came across an article that got me thinking about the important role of other people in our lives who help us persist. The article described the role of Assistants who team up with Paralympic Competitors (The Quiet Collaboration Between Paralympic Athletes and Their Assistants, NY Times).  I was so touched by their joy in playing such a significant role in enabling someone else to compete and push themselves to their personal best.  It led me to think about our roles as friends, family members, and in community to be a guide or assistant to someone in a way that makes a difference both to them and just as much to us.

I had no idea, but in 22 Paralympic sports, athletes compete alongside a guide or assistant.  In some sports the role is very active such as riding in the front seat of a tandem bike or running alongside a blind person holding a tether (they are literally tied together). But in other sports, it can be as simple as tapping a swimmer on the shoulder in order to let them know they are at the pool wall. Long jumpers rely on a guide shouting or clapping when it’s time to jump and blind soccer players listen out for a sighted goalie to yell and give direction for what is going on in the field.  In triathlete, a disabled athlete will swim tethered to a guide that swims slightly ahead of them, then steers the tandem bike, and finishes once again, tethered during the run.  In all sports, there are strict rules about what and how the assistants may offer support and if violated, an athlete will be eliminated.

It struck me what a special person you need to be an athlete assistant.  Not only do you have to be a spectacular athlete yourself, you have to totally dedicate your performance to the competitor.  In reading about these athletes, I was so impressed by their goal of winning with their partner, enjoying the process of training and competing as a team rather than as an individual.  For example, Gabriel Garcia, an athlete who competed in the Olympics on the Brazilian men’s 4 X 100 relay team also competed as a guide for a sprinter Geber ds Santos in the Paralympics.  Of both experiences, he stated, “I actually prefer to be an athlete guide rather than an Olympic athlete,” stating he felt more pressure at the Paralympics.  “You have to give 200 percent of yourself not to cause any mistakes and to keep the other athlete at a high level.”

Skyler Espinoza was a cyclist in the U.S.A. Cycling Development program but missed the dynamics of being in a team sport.  She now pilots a tandem bike with a visually impaired athlete, Hannah Chadwick.  About the experience she states, “You don’t just train for yourself, but for the other person.”  Gregory Billington finished 27th at the Rio Olympic Games in triathlon.  He partnered with athlete Brad Snyder and has found great success.  Brad describes the intensity of their relationship, “We’ve been able to train together stride for stride, stroke for stroke.  We’ve really bonded as friends, teammates, and as competitors.”

It was only in 2012 at the London Olympics that assistants were also given medals when the team made the podium, which they now also share.  It recognizes the challenge of working as a duo in order to be successful.  The choice of guide involves not only finding a talented competitor, but one who can form a compatible working relationship with the athlete.  One sprinter, David Brown, described running with a guide as “like running a three legged race.”  As I guessed would be true, the word “trust” came up in many of the descriptions of the most important factor in a successful pair.   Visually impaired skier Menna Fitzpatrick pointed out that “if you don’t have trust in the guide then you won’t have the skill and speed.  They also have to trust that I’ll follow their instructions.”  Also consistent in the article was how these guide athletes disputed the notion that they were “sacrificing” on behalf of the disabled athlete.  The relationship between athlete and assistant extended far beyond a technical connection into something more personal and deeply reciprocal.

Which brings me back to what struck me about this article in the first place and how it connected to my thinking about getting through hard times.  I think of the athlete’s tether or the clap as a great metaphor for how someone else can help us through the darkness of grief or depression.  Our connection to others gives us a reason and a drive to move forward and live beyond what we think we are capable of.  Life’s many challenges are also opportunities for us to be a support to someone else and in return reap the reward of meaning and purpose.  Building and maintaining the trust of people who need us is a great honor.  There may not be a medal to wear around our necks or a podium to proudly stand on, but we certainly become winners nonetheless.