Beyond Winning and Losing: The Wisdom of Gratitude and a Championship Night

I’m writing this feeling incredibly grateful as a freshly crowned National Champion. Watching the Buckeyes bring home the trophy with John, the ultimate fan, and Keaton, an ultimate fan-in-training, was truly surreal. It’s a moment I’ll never forget.

O-H!

I have a confession to make. As I watched this storied late run of THE Ohio State Buckeyes unfold, I found myself feeling uncertain about attending a possible Championship. It wasn’t because I didn’t believe in our team—I absolutely did (thank you for peaking at the right time, Will Howard)—but because I wasn’t sure I should go. The past few years have taught me that I’ve often been wishing for the wrong things. Not much of what I hoped for happened. Relationships I believed in crumbled, opportunities I longed for never materialized, and while my heart is adjusting (mostly) to my oldest being away at college, it’s still not ready to send my youngest off this fall, though I know I will. While I’ve gotten better at navigating loss and change, I wouldn’t say I’m exactly thriving on the inside just yet.

I began to worry that this cloud of sadness—one that others might not see—might somehow affect the outcome of the game. It may sound silly, but emotions don’t always make sense. So, I kept those worries to myself and decided to fully commit to the experience. I figured if the game didn’t go our way (hello, Miami in 2021!), at least I had the tools to handle a loss with grace.

As an empath, massive crowds, tight spaces and unrelenting noise can take it's toll, but the adrenaline of possibly winning it all kept me going. However, when we finally arrived at the stadium and slowly made our way through the masses, I saw something that left me shaken. Thankfully, John and Keaton didn’t see it, but there was a man lying on a stretcher, surrounded by paramedics who were administering life-saving measures. Though I’m no expert, it didn’t look promising. The crowd continued to push us forward, and I didn’t have time to process what had happened. But once we got to our seats, it hit me all at once. I started feeling nauseous and wobbly, and John had to take me to the first aid station.

As we wove through the crowd, my heart sank. I couldn’t help but think, “Here we go, I’m going to mess this whole thing up.” I swallowed the tablets the medical staff gave me and decided that if I still didn’t feel right, I’d return to the first aid station and stay there until the game ended. Miraculously, I started to recover—thankfully, the Irish never did!

While it was undeniably difficult to witness what I did before the game, it ultimately made me appreciate the experience more than ever. I felt such a deep sense of admiration for both fan bases, imagining the journeys each had taken to get there—the planning, the travel, the logistics, and the sacrifices made on short notice. I thought about the challenges they’d faced over the season, the personal struggles some might have endured, and the unwavering passion they had for their teams. There’s something special about the loyalty it takes to ride the rollercoaster of a football season and stick with it all the way to the end.

All I felt was love—an overwhelming, we-are-in-this-together kind of love. And having Keaton there with us, in this final stretch of his senior year, was the cherry on top. Family trips like this aren't guaranteed once he's off to college, so I cherished every moment. I was deeply grateful for each high five, every hug (even if I was the one handing them out while Keaton graciously accepted them), and all the little connections along the way.

I-O!

Watching the Buckeyes’ triumph reminded me that joy arises from embracing every moment, even amid uncertainty and challenge. By facing each experience with an open heart, we discover that each step—whether in victory or struggle—holds its own beauty. May we carry this awareness forward, finding peace and gratitude in the present, knowing that true fulfillment is found in simply being here, together.

Inward & Onward,