About Olympian Commitment

As pretty much everyone knows, the Winter Olympics have arrived. With their arrival, we spectators have the opportunity to see the apex of skill in all sorts of winter sports, and the culmination of all of the difficult hours of practice that athletes must undergo in order to compete with the best. One might think that such a commitment has no parallel to anything else. Personally, I believe such a statement screams the word, “FALSE!!!” There are plenty of similar commitments, ranging from marriage to a career. I plan on taking both of these commitments one day, but one seems like a more decided path than the other. I plan on being a doctor, a general practitioner to be specific (pun intended), and one day have my own private practice.

Now you may be thinking, “Dude, an Olympic athlete has to do YEARS of INTENSE BACKBREAKING practice. What is so bad about your commitment?” One word everyone, school, and a lot of it. Sure, I may not have to go as long as a specialist, but later I may decide to dabber in a few extra fields, just so that I can better help my patients. Moreover, establishing a private practice, and one that could sustain itself and my family at that, will take years more. And now I have one last point. Olympic athletes usually are in their twenty’s when they compete. Basically, they do not have to continue their rigorous practices and extreme competitions afterward. I do realize that most probably continue to be insanely fit and could probably compete and continue winning if they wished, and that in the 1920’s one Olympic athlete won medals despite the fact that he was 72. However, for most their commitment ends after their twenties. For me, my road is merely beginning. Not only will I have to continue rigorous study into my late twenties, do intern work, and work to make my private practice successful, but I also plan to make this medical practice my career. The whole point of all of this studying and use of time is so that I can effectively treat patients for nearly the rest of my life.

The casual reader may be wondering at this point why I wish to undergo all this. He or she may be thinking, “Maybe he is in it for the money, or perhaps he just likes feeling important, because people come to him when they are ill.” Well, truthfully, the principal reason is that I enjoy helping people and that I believe that I can help more people in that field than in any other. Perhaps I cannot do as much good as a surgeon in evasive surgery, but I also cannot screw up and cut too deeply or sever an artery or otherwise do unintentional damage with my own hand. I do also realize that I can do some serious harm by giving someone the wrong medication for their problem or by misdiagnosing them, but to me at least, that is not the same. Besides, for most cases of this occurring, the person would have enough time to act, whereas should a surgeon may not get a second shot. Either way, I just dislike seeing people in pain, or in some other sort of distress, and love to help them. Those are my motives.

For the record, I am not claiming that my choice holds more gravity than an Olympic athlete’s, for I could not ever do what they do, but I am saying that my commitment holds similar importance. Nor am I saying that my career choice is more difficult than anyone else’s. All I am trying to convey is that I, and everyone else in some way or another, will make a similar commitment to an Olympic athlete’s at one time or another in our lives. And that mine at least, will be more than worth a thousand times the cost.