What Makes an Athlete? Because I Never Thought I Was One

So Where Does That Doubt Come From?

It’s not that I haven’t earned stripes. I’ve trained in the dark, bled in the mud, run for 24 hours straight or completed 4x4x48 challenges, and pushed my body to its edges.

Through tears, sweat and pain I’ve shown up when no one’s watching and nobody cared. Yet, I’ve never DNF’d. Not once.

But I’ve also got shelves of “just” participation medals.

And I feel it fair to say, I don’t fit the image. Not the one sold to us.

Another WTM veteran, friend and awesome ATHLETE (Gary), recently said the same. We were chatting via Messenger, and I called him an athlete.

He immediately responded “I always find it amusing when people call me an athlete.” Like me, despite the superhuman miles and obvious grit, he cringes when someone drops the word athlete on him. It just doesn’t sit right. And I get it. Because we’ve been trained to think “athlete” means elite. Not us.

A Vlog That Lit a Fire

I recently watched a video by a legit Olympic marathoner, she is young, fast, professional. She talked about how people showing up to events just for “participation medals” weren’t really athletes. Not like her. And part of me nodded. I get where she’s coming from. She’s operating at the edge of human performance.

But another part of me? Raised an eyebrow and almost commented: “Funny. I’ve never DNF’d. You just did. So, am I more of an athlete than you?”

Of course I didn’t post that. Not because it wasn’t valid. But because I don’t kick people when they’re down and it was obvious she was currently justifying her DNF to herself via her audience.

She’s young. And while I’m not claiming to be wise (or I wouldn’t do this stupid shit), I can see it’s youth that led her to believe only people as fast as her are real athletes. Also, I’m not a dick or troll. Mostly.

Still, that moment said everything I needed to hear: I don’t need your permission to claim the title.

 So… What Is an Athlete?

Let’s strip away the social polish. Forget what Instagram told you. Let’s look at the bones of it. There are literal dictionary definition of this. But, an athlete is: Someone who trains with intent. Someone who tests themselves. Someone who shows up, again, and again, and again. Someone who builds capacity over time. Not for likes. Not for brands. Not for followers. For something internal. A drive to be the best version of themselves. Just because.

The Quiet Grit Behind the Title

So if you wake up before dawn to get the miles in… If you go out in the rain, in the cold, when you’d rather stay warm… If you’ve ever dragged yourself through pain, doubt, cramps, mashed feet and screaming calves just to hit “finish” or found yourself hanging from a pull-up bar in the gym with nothing left… You’re more of an athlete than most people on this planet. You may not have a coach or a camera crew. And perhaps you ‘run naked’ and don’t do it for the dopamine-hit of social media likes. But you’ve got something better. Discipline. And that’s rarer than speed.

The Real Problem with the Word

“Athlete” feels heavy because we were taught it’s reserved for a chosen few. For those who get paid, who win, who live on podiums. But if that’s the only definition that counts? Then what of the people that didn’t make the top three or the millions of people training their arses off, transforming themselves, building strength, grit, resilience, they don’t qualify and never will (and perhaps don’t even want to)? Nah. Screw that. Because if we’re being honest? Being an athlete is less about results and more about reps.

So, Am I an Athlete?

Yeah. And if you’re reading this nodding along, you probably are too.

You might not have believed it until now. You might feel like you’re “just” finishing events, or “just” trying to stay fit.

But if you’re chasing the edge of yourself — and doing the work to reach it — then I’ve got news for you:
You’re not “just” anything. You’re an athlete.

Maybe not the kind who makes headlines.
But definitely the kind who has the discipline to start,
The grit to push through, And the courage to keep showing up, for yourself.

And that? That’s the rare kind.