True Legacy
What you leave isn't what you won.
In high school, I used to pass the state championship banners on my way to physical education.
In college, I would touch the 1500m record plaque on my way into the gym.
During my MBA, I’d study the awards case and swear I’d add to it.
The truth is, my name made it into none of those places. So what is my legacy as I leave those spaces?
Is it nothing? Do I have no legacy in each of these places?
This question haunts the 99%. The “hardest workers,” the “most improved.” Is there anything left behind by those other than the record breakers and valedictorians?
Athletes are trained to read the finishing time and stop there. We measure ourselves by the outcome, so when our name isn’t there, we assume we left nothing behind. This is a lie.
True legacy is how you impact the lives of the people around you.
Picture the ripples in a pond. Our daily actions are the stone. The splash spirals out from us, sending waves that can only be seen over time.
I saw this at Westmont.
During my freshman year, our captain was not a scoring member of the team. He would not break any school records, or even race at the national championship meet. But he had a legacy.
He was the first person to greet me on campus, helping me move into my dorm room. He led our warmups and our strength work, coordinating us as a team. And his pre-race speeches, legendary enough to get me ready to run through a brick wall.
He was the best captain I had at Westmont. When it came to my turn to lead, I already knew what leadership looked like when it was lived out well. What he did every day, more than what he won, shaped the team three years after he left, through the people he had touched.
That is true legacy. How our daily lives affect those around us.
So, the next time you get passed over for an award, or pass the hall of fame you wish you were in, shake it off and get back to engaging and leading the people around you.
That’s the only legacy that lasts.
Michael Oldach // After Athletics. Beyond the Field.