When we come across the Olympics, where incredible things happen every moment and records shatter on the daily, we actively seek things to root for. An upset to occur. A mark to be eclipsed. A move or feat to be perfected in a way we’ve never seen before. A person to overcome obstacles to bring fame to their name; this is the aspect that I’ve chosen to focus on. An Olympic swimmer by the name of Cody Miller fits this description well, and although there are likely people even at these very games who’ve had to surmount greater hurdles, this guy’s story really relates to me on a personal level. He’s affected by a condition called pectus excavatum, where the chest and rib area cave in at the sternum. It may seem weird and is not the most aesthetically pleasing thing to look at, but it along with its cousin, pectus carinatum, are more common than people realize. In fact, from my perspective, it’s not just common, it’s all-consuming. Because I have pectus carinatum, which is when the sternum protrudes from the rest of the body rather than the alternative. And I’m not going to beat around the bush about this: it sucks. It’s not enjoyable for me whatsoever. I guess you could say it makes me unique, but it’s never felt like that, just a hindrance to a more improved, more ideal version of myself.

As I mature, I find myself less mentally affected by the ailment, which used to make me so self-conscious that I would refuse to swim in public pools or take my shirt off outside my home at all. Now the issue is more physical. My chest is in pain a lot of the time, and sitting down for long periods of time without ample support for my back is unbearable for the area surrounding my sternum. The condition often prevents me from extended, intense exercise sessions, just because of the pain. I have a brace for it, but wearing it enough to make a significant difference has been a goal I just haven’t been able to reach. This article has been a diary entry, a complete sob story to this point, but here’s where I flip the switch.

Things could be a lot worse, and if this is one of my worst problems in life, then I’m leading a pretty smooth existence. This is not the end of the world for either of us, Cody or me. He just proved that on the night of Sunday, August 7, and during every step that he’s taken on the way to achieving his dream. He’s taken a tough circumstance and made the most of it, while also seeing the positives in how the condition actually can benefit his swimming physique and technique. In the men’s 100 meter breaststroke final, he snagged the bronze medal and afterwards captivated audiences with a very good interview, one that would make you root for him even if he didn’t have pectus excavatum.

But as I pursue my athletic dreams in baseball, I see the parallel. Things are just harder for some people in order to get somewhere. Often times we don’t know what those things that make it harder are until that person is successful and has already made it to the top of the mountain. So I have to keep telling myself that no one will make excuses for me if I can’t reach my potential because of a minor (in the grand scheme of things) disorder. And I certainly won’t make excuses for myself. Cody already eclipsed his mark, overcoming any obstacle in his path. Now it’s my turn.