One thing I get from competitive sports is that I am fiercely

Lexi Alexander once declared: “One thing I get from competitive sports is that I am fiercely ambitious.” In these few words, she reveals a truth that has echoed through the ages—that struggle, contest, and striving awaken within the soul the fire of ambition. Sports, in her vision, are not only games of score and victory, but sacred schools of the spirit, where the will learns to burn, to climb, to conquer.

To call herself fiercely ambitious is to admit that she has taken from competition more than trophies. She has absorbed into her being the hunger for growth, the refusal to remain small, the unyielding desire to test herself against limits. It is this transformation that sports bestow upon those who enter the arena—not merely stronger muscles or quicker reflexes, but a sharpened soul, trained in persistence and ablaze with purpose.

The ancients celebrated this truth. In Olympia, young athletes threw the discus and wrestled under the eye of gods and men, not only to prove their strength, but to learn the discipline of ambition. For what is ambition but the longing to surpass what one was yesterday? The Greeks named this striving arete—excellence. It was not selfishness, but the noble hunger to embody the highest form of oneself. Alexander’s words echo this tradition, for she recognizes that sports gave her more than victory—they gave her a compass that forever points upward.

History is filled with examples of ambition awakened in the field of play. Consider Jesse Owens, who in the 1936 Olympics rose not only to defeat his rivals but to shatter the poisonous ideology of racial superiority in Nazi Germany. His ambition was not petty; it was fierce, luminous, and transformative. Or think of Billie Jean King, who used the lessons of competition not only to dominate tennis but to challenge inequality, proving that ambition can be both personal and collective.

Yet, Alexander’s words also carry a warning. Ambition, if not tempered, can consume as fire consumes wood. To be fiercely ambitious is powerful, but power must be guided by wisdom. For ambition without direction leads to pride, and pride without balance leads to ruin. The athlete who learns to channel ambition not only toward conquest but toward growth, toward justice, toward the elevation of others—such a one turns a personal flame into a torch for many.

The meaning of her reflection extends beyond sport. In every craft, in every calling, life itself becomes a field of competition. Each day, we rise against our weaknesses, against time, against complacency. To be ambitious is to refuse stagnation, to demand of oneself more than comfort, to chase the horizon even when it feels distant. Alexander teaches us that sports are a mirror of life, and that the fierceness we cultivate in the game is the same that allows us to endure the struggles of the world.

Therefore, let us embrace this lesson: cultivate ambition not as vanity, but as fire for the journey. Step into your own arena—whether of work, art, family, or faith—and let it teach you to hunger for more than mere survival. Be fierce, as she is fierce, but let your ambition serve not only yourself, but the greater good. For in doing so, your fire will not consume—it will illuminate. And in that light, you will not only win—you will inspire.