Bobsledding circa 1910

As the sun sets on the biggest celebration Vancouver’s ever seen my thoughts are returning to the Olympic bobsled competition I watched recently in Whistler.

Run like hell for up to 50 meters, hop in, head down and then, if you’re the guy in back, you’re only role is to brake.  The person whose back you’re nestled into steers.  At up to 118 mph or 180 km/h.

Bobsledding was invented in the late 1800′s when the owner of a resort in San Moritz, Switzerland was trying to find things for his wealthy guests to do. Enter the rejigged delivery sled et voila bobsled. Only problem was the bobsledders were having too much fun sliding down the village alleys and lanes …. and smashing into folks. Enter the dramatic reason to build a dedicated course.

From my icy perch at Whistler I watched the sleds roar around the track – you could hear them come thundering down from some distance away. Occasionally sleds tipped over and still kept swallowing up the track at an alarmingly fast rate.

I wondered what it must be like to be the guy in the back. The guy who puts on the brake. Who says ‘whoa’. Who’s role is to stop the sled, or slow it down. And all of this without being able to see.

How many of us have our heads down and are focused on the brake? As in ‘Nope, can’t do that’. ‘That won’t work’. ‘We tried that before it crashed and burned’.

How many of us give up our role of steering, of having control over the direction of our lives? It’s easier to follow the pack’s course. Less risky. Less chance of failure. Less chance of sticking out like a sore thumb.

I say the stuck out thumb is the one that gets the ride.

How can you stick out your thumb, steer your own course and leave the braking to someone else?

Myles Horton was a famous adult educator in the Appalachian mountains.  He rode the rails with the hobos and learned valuable lessons from them, lessons that I’m applying during my volunteer work at the 2010 Olympics.

Fire was valuable to the vulnerable men who hitched a ride by train.  Fire kept you warm.  It protected you.  It was a means to a meal.

During those long train rides Myles learned that if you used up your fuel source too soon the fire would go out, leaving you cold and vulnerable throughout the night.

He also recalled times when men kept the fire burning too low and there wouldn’t be enough heat.  You’d still go cold and hungry.

In his autobiography ‘The Long Haul’ he talks about how our life’s drive and goals are the same.

Fire yourself up too much, burn the midnight oil too often, don’t take care of your whole self, don’t have a life beyond work and you’re in trouble.  All consuming and consumed, you’re headed off the rails and towards burnout and major stress.

Don’t fire yourself up enough and you’ve got no heat, no oomph, no zing, passion, or drive.  You’re coasting through life, unengaged and uninspired.

The trick?  Keeping your fire burning at a level that works for you.

Speaking of which, I’m volunteering for the 2010 Olympic Games.  We volunteer 6 days on, have 1 off and work 9 hour days.  Fire’s on my mind, I’m tending the flame.

And you?  How’s your fire?