The Curious Case of the Harvard Graduate who Faked Her Way into the Olympics
The amazing stories of two Olympic skiers and what they can teach us about diversifying self-identity.
This is the story of Elizabeth Swaney, a Harvard graduate who devised an incredible scheme to make the Olympics in free-style skiing, despite being a very average skier (at best). It is also the story of Petra Majdič, one of the best cross-country skiers of all time who, despite her 24 World Cup races, had to overcome crashing into a rock while sustaining four broken ribs and a blunt trauma pneumothorax puncturing her lung moments before the 2010 Olympics where she finally achieved her dream of medaling. But ultimately, it is one lesson — of self-identity. How we can get so wrapped up in just one external thing, one “dream,” that we can dismantle our life’s direction, and how diversifying one’s identity can actually help develop the self-esteem to do nearly anything.
First to Swaney. If you can make it past this cringe-worthy video of her Olympic free-skier run, her tale is pretty extraordinary, if also both insulting to all of the actual athletes she beat out for one of 24 Olympics spots and the complex web of interplay and wasted time it took to pull off. Swaney had a dream to compete in the Olympics — and probably like the other 99.99% (repeating) rest of us, at some point she came to the conclusion this wasn’t going to happen on her athletic abilities. But she didn’t stop there. At 33, rather than moving onto a fulfilling career, time spent with friends, or a broad life of enjoyable activities, she devised a scheme. She would find a country with few skiers competing in Olympic qualifying events, first her mother’s native country of Venezuela and eventually to Hungary, where her grandparents were from and where the competition at the time was low. All she needed to do at that point was to simply show up to as many international qualifying events as possible, ski in the most basic way down the freestyle course such that she didn’t crash, and rack up points over time. Sure enough, she eventually made it. NBC explains better how this happened in the 2018 Winter Olympics:
There were 24 quota spots available for the PyeongChang Winter Olympics in women’s ski halfpipe. But those spots don't automatically go to the best 24 skiers in the world. The maximum number of skiers that each nation can send to the Olympics for women's halfpipe is four, so a country like the U.S. — which had six skiers ranked inside the top 20 of the Olympic qualification standings — could only send their top four skiers, even though they had more than four athletes who earned quota spots.
So with countries like the U.S. having to forego their extra quota spots, some countries not using all their quota spots, and other athletes pulling out due to injury, the invite list made it all the way down to athlete No. 34 in the rankings: Elizabeth Swaney of Hungary.
Swaney, if you have watched the video, was far from the 34th best halfpipe skier in the world. She was, by my estimation living in Colorado and skiing a few times a year, a lot like the person you would share a chairlift with to the groomed intermediate run and sort of expect them to stay there all day. Nothing wrong with that. Yet there she was, at the Olympics, beating out people who had dedicated their lives and talent who were forced to watch from their homes as she mocked their dedicated careers, national identities, and dreams. If you watched the video, you’ll know what happened. If there were 24 competitors, I would argue she came in 25th.
Now to Majdič, who was under incredible pressure to win an Olympic medal, and she had been snake-bitten for years. Time and time again, a series of bad luck, timing, whatever dictated that although she was ranked at the top of her field, she never quite made the podium. At the 2010 Olympics, sure enough, lightning struck again. Showing up in the best shape of her life, she spoke on camera about her aspiration that this year she would win three medals. She was favored to win at least one silver in her best event. But on a practice run, she fell into a 9-foot ditch, striking a rock and puncturing a lung — a life-threatening incident after 20 years of preparation for that day. The on-site doctors couldn’t diagnose the severity of her injury, however, and she was allowed to compete in the qualifying race. Despite collapsing at one point due to severe pain, she finished 19th, enabling her to proceed to the next round — all the while air was accumulating between her chest wall and lung. Through the quarterfinals and semifinals she pushed on, screaming audibly and collapsing after each race. No doctor knew the severity of her injury, and only she could comprehend how dysfunctionally painful her body felt. Yet she endured. In the finals, she sprinted to the finish with a bronze medal. Her only Olympic medal in her career as one of the best cross-country skiers of her era. At the Olympic medal ceremony, she had to be pushed out in a wheelchair with a tube sticking out of her chest.
Writer David Epstein, whose work include the award winning book “The Sports Gene,” interviewed her sports psychologist at some point after. He was curious how she could finally obtain Olympic medal success when she was all but paralyzed and how when she had been completely healthy so many times before she had essentially “struck out.” The sports psychologist mentioned that he asked her to take up a hobby, to which she decided to build a house (sort of an oddly challenging hobby to me, but to each their own). Majdič’s entire identity had been cross-country skiing. My words now, but she was placing her whole identity on something external, some “other.” Building a house likely took some pressure off her; it decoupled her thinking. She stopped thinking of herself as the person where something always went wrong. But I would surmise it also gave her more esteem in her ability to do something else. Something for herself. With this diversification of her identity, she almost paradoxically was able to live in the moment of her sport for the first time.
From Epstein’s book, Range:
Compared to other scientists, Nobel laureates are at least 22 times more likely to partake as an amateur actor, dancer, magician, or other type of performer.
Nationally recognized scientists are much more likely than other scientists to be musicians, sculptors, painters, printmakers, woodworkers, mechanics, electronics tinkerers, glassblowers, poets, or writers, of both fiction and nonfiction.
When we become wrapped up in one thing, we lose sight of our whole self. When our success hinges on one thing, our self-esteem can take huge up and down hits. Swaney, per what I know at least, seemed obsessed with being an Olympian at multiple stages of her life. She still bills herself as a former Olympian. Not quite the identity I would want, given the video record and heartbreak of those who she “beat out” for a qualifying spot based nothing on merit and all on gaming a flawed system.
I’ve been there in athletics and identity. I’ve been there in the academic world (you get a cheap buzz when someone first calls you “Dean [insert your name],” but it fades incredibly quickly) and the business world. Now I try to do things in sports, academia, business, and more, e.g. writing, podcasting, etc., and sure enough, a bad day running or a less-than-stellar work day don’t shake my esteem. I’m not hinged on any one thing, and I can pick something else up if I’m off in a particular area. In a sense, if I crash 9 feet on any given day, there’s still a lot more runs left for me to take. If there is a takeaway, then it is this: never become wrapped up in one external identity. Diversifying your sense of self can lead to incredible breakthroughs, even in the one thing you needed to break away from.
Post-script
If you are wondering what Swaney is doing now, check out her YouTube page where she is apparently using her branding as a former Olympian (technically true) to promote workout videos. She also competed in American Ninja Warrior per FOX KTVU. I have no ability to get inside her mind. Some will say “she had a dream and went for it,” others “she cheated an entire sport and nation,” and finally others still, “well isn’t she now diversifying her identity?” I honestly do not know. But it is a story worth sharing, whatever its outcomes will be.