In my latest adventure in books, Christopher McDougall in Natural Born Heroes tells us that, no, size does not matter, not at all. He weaves a tale of how the Cretans, with help from a quirky special force of British, helped to hold down the Germans in WWII in Crete, an island that was essential for Germany to control for "Operation Barbarossa" the military plan to conquer the USSR. Because of the people of Crete, those plans were stalled and Germany became bogged down at the Russian Front in winter. The rest is history.
But it is not just history - it is the story of how the Cretans, as well as other people of the past and some new ones today, understand what fitness truly is. It is why the Cretans were able to out-hike the Germans through the mountains and stay one step ahead of the Gestapo, and also why my Indians were in such great shape. The secret is found primarily in natural movement, with going with the body flow, but there is more: put in a phrase, it has to do with "knowledge, strength, and compassion."
Compassion? I have wondered at the Greeks for some time, ever since I heard an NPR special edition on the Olympics. Looking at the records of the athletes then, their speed and strength dwarfs those of our greatest today. In the book, the author discusses a rock inscribed from 600 BC in Greece that states simply, "(so and so) lifted me." Present day people have weighed the rock, and it is over 100 pounds heavier than our world record - and it is an uneven, ungainly stone. But their astounding prowess also went to all the other sports.
Still, compassion? Few who read of the ancient Greeks think first, or even last, of compassion. But that is where the Hero comes in; the Hero is someone's, or some nation's or people's, champion. Odysseus had his wife, Alexander his empire, the Spartans their pride of place and so on. While Alexander might not be quite clear, the others are - they were fighting or wrestling or adventuring for their people. This form of compassion is not the only thing that gave them greatness - much is still in the hands of natural feel, like many of our current great athletes (a feel, the author assures us, that can be learned by all) - but the greatest efforts are. Think of the old lady who holds a car up in an emergency for her grandson underneath (it's for real, these events). Think of the thousands of men who are absolutely average who have done astounding acts of bravery for the sake of their army buddies in battle.
Of course, the author is a best-seller, and he wishes to impress on us that it is possible for all of us to be heroic. I have my doubts - at the age of 61, I don't think I'll be setting any world records soon, for family or not. But his point is clear - altruism rewards those with knowledge and strength with even greater strength. It is what makes heroic deeds - those that are impossible under normal circumstances - possible. It may not allow one to move mountains, at least in a one-on-one sense, but it can allow for acts of courage and strength that are otherwise unbelievable. Read Unbroken, or The Long Walk, or several other accounts of impossible feats of endurance and courage. And it is true - at the heart of the greatest deeds is heart, is a desire above the individual, a giving of him or herself for an ideal, a god, a person or a nation.
We all love a good story line for our Olympic athletes. So many have them that they seem made up. But maybe those stories really are the "X" factor between good and great; maybe it was these certain events in the lives of the athletes that gave them a sense of compassion, turning them from regular athletes into true heroes. FK