The rewards of getting back up

[Fiona]

Olympian Dan Jansen shares the story of his perseverence

Speed skating is a story in a hundredth of a second — one stride, one lean, one winner.

But Dan Jansen's story is slow, achingly slow, stretching over a decade of devastation and hope, devastation and hope, devastation and hope.

Thankfully, it is also a story of redemption, a real–life allegory of the awesome power of the individual will.

Jansen offered the full measure of inspiration Wednesday to Burlington business people at a motivational luncheon celebrating employment agency Temp Associates' 10th year in the community.

"There are times (when) you have to decide if you're knocked down or knocked out," he said. "Because if you're knocked out, you're not going to get back up again."

The nation blinked and swallowed hard on that February night in 1994 when Jansen skated around a track in Norway with his daughter in his arms, wearing a gold medal at long last.

The memories of that race are fading now.

Ten years earlier, as an 18–year–old with a limitless future, Jansen had placed fourth in the 500 meters in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia, out of the medals by just 16/100ths of a second.

Four years later, with the Olympics headed to Calgary, Alberta, Jansen was the clear favorite, a world champion and the most dominant force in men's speed skating.

But on Valentine's Day 1988, just hours before he was to take the track in his signature race, the 500 meters, his older sister Jane died after a year–long fight with leukemia.

Jansen took the track but fell just 10 seconds into the race. Three nights later, he fell in the 1000 meters. From the top to the bottom in a heartbeat.

Jansen had to wait four years for another chance, this time in Albertville, France. By now, the media had made his story into a contemporary tragedy. They spoke about his sister's death and his quest for revenge, even though, as he said, "nobody had done anything to me."

Still a contender, though no longer the overwhelming favorite, he skated well in the 500 meters. But a tiny stumble on an outdoor track roughed up by a light rain dropped him to fourth again, too slow by 32/100ths of a second.

A change in the Olympics rotation gave Jansen one more chance, his fourth in 10 years, in Lillehammer, Norway.

He came into the 1994 Olympics once again a 500–meter champion. Once again, he stumbled, slipping to eighth.

The 1000–meters would be his last chance. On race day, commentator Charles Kuralt spoke to the television audience: "We don't tell you who to root for in these Olympic Games, but I will tell you this: Even the skaters who have raced against him for years are pulling today for Dan Jansen."

On a track ringed by fans crossing their fingers, Jansen did what everyone dreamed but no one expected: A powerful, hammering start; a steady, churning push and a gliding, fluid finish.

A new world record. And a gold medal for the United States of America.

"I remember standing on that podium," Jansen said, "and for the first time probably before or since, wishing our national anthem had more verses."

The daughter Jansen carried with him around the track? Her name was Jane.

The Burlington business people gathered Wednesday watched footage of Jansen's victorious race, complete with broadcasts from around the world — a dozen languages all rich with the emotion of the moment.

Sheri Stogdill, an employee of Doran & Ward Printing Company, saw in the race and heard in Jansen's speech reminders that day–to–day struggles "don't defeat us."

"He was inspiring," Stogdill said. "Not because he won, but because he lost and he was still happy with his effort."

That, at its essence, was Jansen's message. He understands his fame, and appeal on the motivational circuit, rely on a silent assumption at the end of that "If at first you don't succeed ..." mantra; that those who, in fact, "try, try again" will get the Gold Medal. As Temp Associates president Bob Jensen said, "Dan's a symbol of strength, hard work and perseverance."

But Jansen told his listeners time and again, both directly and by implication, not to measure themselves by 'medals.' Instead, find purpose in the effort and meaning in the lessons learned along the way — lessons like those found in his competitive disappointments and the tragedy of his sister's death.

By any measure, Jansen is now a capital–S "success." He speaks around the country, owns a medical supply business in North Carolina, coaches skating to the National Hockey League's Chicago Blackhawks and will appear as a television speed skating commentator during the 2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy.

But think what might have been. Before the Lillehammer games, a foreign reporter asked Jansen if he realized that, with another failure, he would go down in history as the greatest speed skater never to win an Olympic medal.

Jansen had realized it.

"But," he added, "I've also had the opportunity to be one of the most successful Olympians ever."

Then he went out and won.

thehawkeye.com