As athletes and coaches, we understand the meaning of discipline. Our lives are filled with early morning workouts and late nights in the gym. We sacrifice whatever it takes to reach our goals. We know that if we work harder than our opponents, we have a better chance of winning.

Tucked neatly between peaks of California’s San Bernardino Mountains is the quiet reservoir town of Big Bear Lake, population 5,500. It is a cozy ski resort town full of log-cabin charm, the kind of place that begs visitors to forget that the turbulence of Hollywood sits at its feet only 100 miles away.

It was in this quiet town that an Olympic quest began. U.S. marathon runner Ryan Hall was only 14 years old when he stared out at the lake through his parents’ car window and was filled with a vision — a vision to run.

USA Women’s National Volleyball Team member Tracy Stalls, FCA Health and Fitness Director Jimmy Page, two-time Olympic medalist Hollis Conway, FCA President Les Steckel

To this day, Leah O’Brien-Amico remembers the phone call. It came a decade ago, but it seems like yesterday. It was in the morning. O’Brien-Amico, who was at the time still in the process of building her softball-legend status as part of the U.S. National Team, was standing in the lobby of a hotel chatting with some teammates.

She was in a good mood; it was a joyful time. An Olympic gold medal-winning athlete, O’Brien-Amico had just wrapped up her final season at the University of Arizona, where her team had won the College World Series about a month earlier. It was the third national title Arizona had won while she was there.

To hear Texas A&M University basketball coach Billy Gillispie talk about Chris Walker's natural talent, you'd probably think the senior was a benchwarmer, not a guy who started 23 games last season. But to hear Gillispie gush, in the same sentence, about the "intangibles" that Walker brings to the Aggies, you'd think he was a sure-fire NBA lottery pick.

Be careful how you live - others will imitate you.

Nic Cardwell’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

It was 2002, and Cardwell, then a senior at Robert B. Glenn (N.C.) High School, and his father were on a football recruiting trip to nearby Appalachian State University in Boone, N.C. After a short wait in the lobby of the on-campus inn, a team representative — an “old guy,” as Nic remembers — greeted the Cardwells and sat down to chat with them.

Thirty minutes passed, and Cardwell’s mind drifted. Finally, the older gentleman got up and said, “OK, let’s go eat.” Cardwell quickly snapped to attention. Perplexed, he blurted, “Wait a second! I haven’t met the head coach yet.”