“I challenge you to a hundred-meter race,” my opponent, Julius, declared. He had beaten me countless times during practice, but I wanted to prove him wrong for a change. “That’ll wipe the smile off his face!” I thought, even as fear started to pour in my stomach. He was well-known around the school for being the fastest runner on the track-and-field team, while I tailed behind in second place- a respectable position, but not yet good enough to surpass (超过) him. Nevertheless, I shook his hand and said, “Challenge accepted!” However, negative thoughts flooded my mind. Would I be able to win? After all, Julius’ speed of light would guarantee a sure win!

Soon, all my friends and the teachers had gathered around to watch the challenge. “Oh no, I will lose and be embarrassed in front of the whole school!” I spoke in a low voice. Nevertheless, I turned my worried expression into a determined smile. To keep myself from sinking into self-doubt, I did some stretches and jumping jacks to warm up my body.

Finally, the crucial moment arrived. The referee(裁判)fired the starting gun and we took off like a shot. Adrenaline(肾上腺素) rocketed through my body as I launched myself forward. True to my expectations, Julius caught up with me easily and was in the lead! “No way will I lose! Victory, here I come!” I motivated myself as anger coursed through my body. As the race progressed, my eyes locked onto Julius, his athletic form effortlessly moving ahead. His quick steps and strong focus showcased his impressive skills. Yet, I refused to let doubt consume me. A fierce fire burnt within, fueled by a mix of unwillingness to admit defeat and anger. How dare he assume he was unbeatable? With every step, my determination solidified(变坚定), and my resolve to surpass him strengthened.

“Faster!” I screamed and in that instant, I felt like Superman.

“Yi Rou! Yi Rou! Yi Rou!” The whole school was cheering my name!

“Hello, hello!” called out a pleasant voice.

Andy Waters looked up and saw his new neighbor, Francis Frame.

“Hello, yourself,” he shouted cheerfully, as he fastened on his roller skates. “Want to go skating, Francis?”

“I can’t. I lost my roller skates last fall, and mother says she can’t afford to buy me another pair just now.”

Andy looked at his neighbor’s long legs. They were just the right kind, he thought, to make a fast skater.

“That’s hard luck, Francis, because if you had some roller-skates, maybe you could be in our skating relay race (接力赛) next Saturday.”

“Oh! Don’t I wish I had some skates!” cried Francis.

“I have to go for the training now but I can let you use my skates sometime when I am not using them.” Andy said bye to Francis.

When Andy skated slowly toward the end of the block, he thought about Francis Frame. Francis hadn’t lived in the block very long, and none of the other boys knew him. So the new boy was left to himself a great deal, and must often be very lonely.

“Yes,” said Andy to himself, “it certainly is a pity about Francis! I ought to do something about it.”

As he skated to the vacant lot where they usually trained and raced, he met the captain of his team, a large boy called Buddy Bowers. “I stopped for a few moments to talk to my new neighbor,” said Andy. “don’t you think we could use another boy on our team for the race? That new boy, Francis Frame, I mean?”

“We just can’t do it. The other team wouldn’t let us take on an extra boy.” Buddy refused.

Soon the training began and Andy practiced very hard, for his heart was set on having his team win the race. Still, he couldn’t help knowing that his short legs kept him from being a fast skater. On the way home, Andy thought of a way to help his team win as well as help Francis Frame — he could pretend to be sick on the racing day and have Francis take his place!

Thinking of this, he raced to the home of his new neighbor.

Finally came the racing day, and Andy and Francis showed up together.

4 . Compassion has not been a traditional characteristic of sport. With its UK roots in 19th-century British public schools and universities, modern sport developed as way of creating strong military leaders, training them to develop adaptability defined in those times by iron will and biting the bullet. Fear and harsh criticism were crucial to toughening up players and soldiers alike. The “tough guy” narrative was strengthened by 20th-century media stereotypes and Hollywood’s heroes and became rooted into sport and society.

I’ve heard countless stories like the popular culture I found when I joined the Olympic rowing team in the mid-1990s. We were expected to suffer after mistakes or losses to show that we truly cared, and everyone believed coaches needed to be severe and unforgiving to get results. These approaches still exist. But an alternative approach with compassion at its center addresses aims of performance and wellbeing for those with greater ambitions.

This isn’t some soft option which plays down hard work, as supporters of the earlier traditional sporting mindset might criticize. Research across branches of psychology — behavioral, sports, positive — shows how compassion creates the strongest foundation for adaptability and sustained performance under pressure whether in sport, the military, healthcare or business. Rather than activating our threat system which began to help us survive way back, compassion helps us to feel safe and protected, leaving us free to learn, connect with others and start exploring what we’re capable of.

The continuous need to improve performance has led top coaches to appreciate that high performance requires levels of support to match the level of challenge. When you provide that, players start thriving while striving to achieve more. Rooted in compassion, a different coach-athlete relationship thus develops.

The dictionary definition of compassion includes the recognition of another’s suffering and the desire and support to relieve it. Compassion has been shown to decrease fear of failure and increase the likelihood of trying again when failure does happen. But how many talented athletes experience that depth of support in moments of crisis and failure?

“Marilyn, you have so much determination and so much heart. If you work at it you’ll be a fine swimmer,” Gus Ryder said to me after I finished a one-mile race in the freezing cold Lake Ontario.

I believed him and started swimming for Gus. Every day, we trained for hours in open water. But no matter how hard I worked, I still came in third or fourth. Four years later, it was clear that I was never going to the Olympics. That’s when Gus suggested I challenge the famous American long-distance swimmer Florence Chadwick to swim the thirty-two miles across Lake Ontario from New York to Toronto.

The idea had never occurred to me, but Gus had made up his mind. “I wasn’t sure Florence could make it. If we could swim one stroke further than her, it would be worth it,” Gus encouraged me.

Eventually, I decided to do it for Gus, and for myself.

The race started at 10 pm on September 6. It was cloudy, windy, and very dark. When I looked around, I couldn’t see where the lake ended and the sky began.

“Marilyn, just follow my light and I will guide you across this lake,” said Gus, who had a big flashlight and shone it just ahead of me from the lifeboat.

Florence swam for about four hours before she quit. But it wasn’t until several hours later, when I was having difficulty, that Gus told me that Florence was out and that I was the only one left!

I felt very encouraged. But it was such a long night that Gus had to do his best to keep me going. At the dawn, he even began writing messages on a chalkboard to keep my thoughts positive. Once he wrote, “You know you can do it. You can do it for me!” Another time he even wrote, “If you give up, I give up.”

By midday I felt so tired that I started falling asleep. So Gus started swimming with me to get my attention back. “I’m here to swim with you, Marilyn. Come on!” he said.

At the very moment, I began to experience a very unusual feeling.

After twenty-one hours in the water, we began approaching the shore.

Dave had loved basketball for as long as he could remember and he had never had a day without playing it. At primary school and junior high school he joined basketball clubs, attended training programs and watched basketball games, from which he learned the moves of the star players, wishing to play in a professional team like them and shine on the court.

Now as a senior high school student, however, his dream of becoming a professional player was dimming (变暗) because he was only of average height. He had to give up the hope of joining the school team. The guys on the school team were all tall boys who played matches and won honors for the school. They were like heroes. Dave watched them play and cheered them but he knew he would never be one of them.

Dave felt it a pity not to be tall enough, but this didn’t stop him from pouring his passion into basketball. He just played for the love of the sport. He played in the school gym with other boys or by himself every day, even during holidays and weekends, when it was open for two hours in the morning. He enjoyed every minute on the court making every effort to play better.

It was one Saturday morning. Dave was playing in the gym by himself, as all the other boys were busy with other weekend affairs. Then he noticed a tall boy approaching. It was Lankas. Everybody knows him as captain of the school basketball team. “Hi, Lankas,” Dave greeted him. “My name is Dave.” “Hi, Dave,” Lankas replied as he got closer. “Nice to see you here. Do you need an opponent to play against?” Dave was shocked, frozen right there, unable to believe his ears but somehow, he answered, “Why not?”