Personal Best.

The third of the three guiding principles of the Gay Games Movement is the one most often misunderstood ... and yet one which can carry the greatest individual rewards for those who achieve it.

Reflecting on the Gay Games I experience, founder Dr. Tom Waddell wrote, "Athletically speaking, the objective of making participation and self-fulfillment the priority over the traditional concept of winning was continually stressed. The response to this was superb and that objective should continue to be a priority. The alternative to participation for self-fulfillment, that is, to make winning the end point for success, is to capitulate to the traditional destructive philosophy of competitive athletics.

"In these Games I have no rivals, only comrades in Unity." — The Athletes Oath

"Winning, when made a priority, creates an adversary climate, and when winning becomes important, then it also makes losing important. We wish to stress the recreational and cooperative aspects of sport and attempt to avoid the destructive and divisive concept, and prevalent belief that "beating someone else" constitutes winning. We wish to propagate the concept that "doing one's best" creates an entire field of winners and redefines the notion of excellence to encompass each individual's capabilities."

Just how good is one's personal best? Does trying to achieve one's personal best mean not trying to be the best in the world or the best in a tournament? How does one know when one has achieved a personal best?

Those are questions each athlete must answer themselves.

In mainstream sports models, success is measured by how one fares against opponents or how well a score or time compares with past performances. "Altius, Citius, Fortius" is the Latin motto for the Olympics: "Higher, Faster, Stronger." In such sports systems, athletes are excluded from the highest level events by qualifying events that eliminate non-elite athletes. One's ability to excel becomes diminished with age as results inevitably go from higher, faster, stronger to lower, slower and weaker.

But sports should not be just for the innately gifted. Everyone can benefit from athletic sacrifice and discipline, from marshalling resources and energy toward a dedicated goal and striving for personal excellence. And this personal best can be attained regardless of gender, age, size, sexuality or physical challenge.

Thus, athletes of all calibre are brought together in the Gay Games Movement, to share equally in the joy, achievement and empowerment of sports through participation and competition.

Before the Sydney Gay Games in 2002, powerlifter Chris Morgan of London found himself chatting with a fellow athlete as they checked out the sports venues.

The woman had traveled from the United States to Australia to try table tennis for the first time in her life, to see what it felt like to compete. Morgan was there to win a gold medal after having won silver four years earlier in Amsterdam and has gone on challenge for the world title, winning a silver medal at the drug-free world championships in November 2004.

"This is what is unique about the Gay Games", said Roberto Mantaci, Co-President of the Federation fo Gay Games. "On the one hand, in keeping with the Gay Games founding principles of Participation, Inclusion and Personal Best, no minimum standard is required to participate. Recreational, senior and even inexperienced athletes can take part, feel welcome and have an enjoyable and life-changing experience. On the other hand, elite athletes like Chris Morgan can also enter a world class competition that tests their high level performances. In the past, world master records have been broken at the Gay Games. Such performances can inspire other LGBT athletes to strive even high in sports and other endeavors in life."

"The 'spirit' of the Games runs through me," Morgan said later. "In 1998 [at the Amsterdam Gay Games], I had the most wonderful, magical experience, one that changed my life forever. Walking into Ajax Stadium, the Opening Ceremony, the Friendship Village, lifting a weight competitively for the first time ... and walking away from my first Games with a shiny silver medal in my hand! I knew then that within myself I had the talent to make world level in my 'new' chosen sport. I also knew that the only way to do this was 'Out' and 'Proud.' This was my calling."

Toronto writer Joe Clark, reporting on Gay Games IV in New York in 1994 on his website captured the opportunity for achieving personal best when he witnessed the powerlifting competition.

"Day one of the event was held in an old gym in the Village on one of the hottest, muggiest days of the year," Clark wrote. "Even with turboprop-sized fans running nonstop, the air was oppressive and uncomfortable. Still, dozens of spectators stuck around all afternoon to watch women bench-press, deadlift, and squat up to double their body weight. Unlike the physique competition, body types ranged all over the map, from wispy to voluptuous. Here the athlete herself was not the focus of attention; her capabilities were. The unglamorous grit and determination were inspiring: There is nothing quite like witnessing a 200-pound woman bench-pressing over 400 pounds.

"More to the point, the camaraderie in the room was palpable. The event was part of the Gay Games, but not everyone there was gay: People who were obviously straight, obviously not straight, and not obviously either happily worked together as judges, spotters, coaches, trainers, and announcers. Roles were fluid; the biggest guy there (advertised as someone who once deadlifted 800 pounds) spent most of his time seated, serving as judge, while one of the smallest women present loaded and unloaded heavy plates onto the bar. Powerlifting is not exactly seen an 'appropriate' sport for women in the establishment ethos and audience members seemed to sense this. If someone failed to make a lift, people applauded; if she did make it, the crowd went nuts. Women's powerlifting was a high-water mark for the spirit of the Games."

Reflecting on the entire gay Games experience, Clark summarized his thoughts by writing, "The Gay Games' paradoxical, love/hate interplay of homosexuality and masculinity (the elixir on which sports run) has elicited tons of analysis — even in these very pages — on The Meaning of Queers in Sports. But a crucial lesson of Gay Games IV is that gay people should take part in sports not merely because they are erotic, or because they were estranged from sports as children, or because of the political impact of the Gay Games movement; not because gays are an emerging primo market for Nike and Reebok, or because the Games give you a chance to meet, compete with and against, and perhaps fall in love with people from around the world; and not because running a 10K or diving in a sanctioned competition is a personal challenge for you, or because you finally get to be part of a team, with spiffy uniforms and everything.

"No, Gay Games IV showed once and for all that gay people should take part in sports because we are so very good at them."

Personally, the best.