After the Finish Line

Lauren Thomas: Vanderbilt Swimming

Recently, Sarah Fuller made history when she became the first female kicker in a power-five conference game. She has quickly (and rightfully) become a role-model for little girls. Along the likes of our new Vice President, Fuller accomplished a feat that cannot be understated. And yet, the internet flooded her praises with a wave of degrading comments. Her appearance would be ridiculed disgustingly and she would be sexualized by a community of faceless users.

As the events unfolded, Fuller did a wonderful job of standing her ground against these trolls. A sense of confidence that is more seldom in the female athlete community than anyone realizes. Just because you win a game or race, doesn’t mean that you have won the real battle: loving yourself beyond what you can perform for others.

Collegiate athletes have spent their entire lives under the harsh scrutiny of coaches, trainers, nutritionists, sports psychologists, and now, the public. Every athlete, regardless of gender or sport, must come to terms with the fact that external validation is not sustainable. There will always be a flicker chance that one of those individuals that may praise your win, will gaslight your loss. Not to say we cannot trust those that provide the space for sport, but rather appreciate their support and push toward internal peace.

These thoughts come flooding as I near the end of my collegiate career. Once those that I answered to in sport become the leadership of a post-graduate job, the pursuit of pleasing perpetuates. Athletes that have found their own sense of identity and purpose beyond sport will continue to win well after their time on the court or field concludes.

When Sarah Fuller made history that day, she marked the beginning of an era for athletes. We now recognize that each athlete wants to be seen for ability and character, not their gender, sexual orientation, or racial ethnicity. We now understand that there are no bounds to what individuals are capable of, independent of prior worldly tradition. We now believe that athletics are something that an individual can provide to us as entertainment (or hope in Fuller’s case), but they do not define that person.

Like anything in life, sports are temporary. I invite all athletes, amateur to professional, to take time to reflect on the highs and lows. For so long I associated times of doing well in sport with a high. When I came to college and I was no longer winning every race, dropping time effortlessly, and accomplishing goals, I was forced to take this time. While it may be cliché, becoming the most authentic version of yourself requires struggle. When I could no longer be a leader merely by my athletic ability, I found an internal drive toward becoming the best teammate I could. The actions you take; high-fiving freshmen, taking struggling sophomores to coffee, reconnecting with distant seniors, will define your legacy far more than a record board. Challenge yourself to ask how you would like to be remembered in sport.

You may not be Sarah Fuller, but you are uniquely you. You can stand up and cheer for her against the jealous community of haters. Create an environment in sport that perpetuates a cycle of positivity regardless of the outcome. Sport will fail you (alongside the successes) and your reaction will become defiant of your character well beyond sport. Be there for others unconditionally, but more importantly yourself.