I have spoken with many former athletes, and they tell me the

In the words of Sergei Bubka, the great pole vaulter whose name is etched among the immortals of sport, there resounds a truth deeper than the mere tale of competition. He proclaims: “I have spoken with many former athletes, and they tell me the best time they had was in sports. I listen to them and use their experience in my career.” These words are not idle, but bear the weight of wisdom gathered through triumphs, defeats, and the fleeting fire of youth. In them lies the remembrance that the days of struggle and striving, though difficult, become the sweetest memories once they pass.

The meaning is not merely that sport is joyous, but that in sport a person lives in the fullness of life: with passion burning in the heart, the body honed to purpose, and the spirit sharpened by contest. Former athletes, when their bodies no longer leap as they once did, gaze backward and say, “Those were the days of my soul’s flight.” Bubka, wise in his humility, heeds these voices. He knows that the experience of others is a lantern that may illuminate his own path. Thus he drinks from the fountain of memory, not only his own, but of many.

The origin of this saying comes from the timeless bond between generations of competitors. For as in the Olympic Games of ancient Greece, when wrestlers, runners, and charioteers passed down tales of victory and defeat, so too do modern athletes share their lessons. Bubka, by listening, binds himself to this unbroken chain. He stands not alone in his quest, but upon the shoulders of those who came before. His words are therefore both personal confession and universal commandment: to remember and to learn.

Consider the story of Milo of Croton, the ancient wrestler whose feats became legend. He trained daily, carrying a calf upon his shoulders, until the calf became an ox and his strength was beyond measure. Yet when his years waned, Milo too must have looked back and said, “In those days, I lived most truly.” Though his victories faded, the memory of his discipline remained, inspiring generations. In Bubka’s echo, Milo’s spirit returns: the past of one becomes the wisdom of another.

The lesson is plain: the golden moments of life are often not recognized when they are lived, but only when they are gone. Therefore, one must treasure the struggle, the sweat, the striving, for these are the seeds of future joy. When you rise before dawn to labor, or when your body aches with effort, remember: one day you shall recall these very trials with fondness, saying, “There I was most alive.”

Yet Bubka adds another thread: do not only treasure your own memory, but also listen to the memories of others. For the elder’s tale is a gift, sparing the youth from blindness. By gathering the wisdom of those who walked before, we may walk more steadily, with fewer missteps. To ignore such counsel is to walk in darkness when light is offered freely.

Therefore, the teaching is twofold. First: cherish the present struggle, for it shall one day be your sweetest story. Second: be humble enough to learn from the past of others, for in their words lies the map of your own journey. In this way, you unite your path with theirs, weaving your life into the great tapestry of human endeavor.

And so, child of the future, take this counsel to heart. Each day, strive in your own “arena,” whether it be in sport, in art, in study, or in work. Listen to the elders, to the mentors, to the voices that remember. And above all, live so fully that when you too gaze back from the heights of age, you may say with joy, “The best time I had was when I gave myself wholly to the struggle of life.”