If you are like millions of others around the world, you probably have been following the Olympics over the past few days. Everyone has their own events that they're partial to, and I've found myself drawn to the pool, and particularly the swimming accomplishments of Katie Ledecky. At just 19 years of age, she has set 11 world records and won four Olympic gold medals (as I am writing this; she still has a few races left in Rio) and nine world championships. She won her first Olympic gold as a 15 year old. On Thursday, I watched her set the Olympic record for the 800 meter freestyle in the preliminary rounds. She was the youngest person to be named to Time Magazine's 100 Most Influential People list this year (under the "Titans" category), and will be heading to Stanford University to start her college career after the Games.
Ledecky's world records and Olympic performances are extremely impressive standing alone, but they become even more fascinating when you factor in her age, which, incidentally, is the same as my own. Both of us are 19, but while she is competing in Rio and breaking records almost every time she touches the water, I am sitting on my couch and watching her. I definitely don't feel too bad about this difference between us, because I know that Katie is an exceptional case. However, the realization that there are countless Olympians who are the same age as me or younger illustrates the danger in comparison.
I don't consider myself to be a jealous person, or even a very competitive person. I love to win, but in a cross country or track race, I can be content with losing if I know that I ran a tough race or set a new personal best. I do, however, think that I'm pretty concerned with my potential, and making sure that I fulfill it. And that is where the comparison starts to creep in. If one of my friends scores a cool internship or research assistant position, I start searching for opportunities for myself. If a teammate gets a 4.0 one semester or runs a big personal record, I think "I can do that too." I look at people who are double majoring in really tough fields, and feel kind of guilty and think that I should look into at least adding a minor.
This "if they're capable of it, I'm capable of it" mindset isn't necessarily a terrible thing, because it ensures that I set my goals high and that I never settle for less than I am capable of. That being said, it can be dangerous if taken too far. Sometimes I get so caught up in what I think I should be doing that I fail to appreciate what I've done. I may not be an Olympian, but I definitely haven't wasted my 19 years on Earth.
It's important to remind ourselves from time to time that someone else's success should not make us feel like we're doing something wrong, or that we're taking too long to achieve our goals. That witnessing someone else doing something big with their life does not mean that we have to try to follow their path to greatness. And that there is a difference between knowing what you're capable of and thinking you have to have everything figured out right this instant. So no, I'm not an Olympian or a household name at 19, and I probably never will be. But my hope is that if I focus on doing everything that I can to achieve my goals, they will eventually come to be, no matter how long that takes.
