My Gay Games story: Jim Atkinson, London

Jim Atkinson at Gay Games VI, Sydney (photo Outsports)

At the age of 59, I can look back on a career as a coach in a variety of sports which goes back to my late 20s. The rewards and satisfactions are simply one of the most important aspects of my life. It has been an interesting and often inspiring journey — and it's not yet over! For many of those years, I combined coaching as a hobby with my 'real' job as an openly gay senior development manager in The Sports Council, the British organisation which oversees and funds the development of sport from community participation to Olympic medals.

I've known I was attracted to men since my very early teens growing up in Belfast, Northern Ireland. It was a household which took religion seriously, so the question of my sexuality was a continuing source of conflict and anxiety which I never shared with anyone. The idea of homosexuality was such an unsettling one that I simply had to find a way to diffuse the anxiety. Sport was my mechanism! My older sister was an international-level athlete who ran for Great Briatin, my parents played sport, and I had all the support I could have wanted in getting involved. I loved sport, I was quite good at it and, after all, homosexuals didn't play sport so no one could ever suspect me of being "queer," could they?

It was many years before I understood how absurd that idea was, but until my mid-twenties it was my defense mechanism of choice. The fact that I didn't have sex with anyone at all till I was 26 meant that the point was academic for many of these years!

To cut a long story short, I played field hockey at school and university, often captaining the side, and eventually became a national league player. I played tennis for my club, and squash at a good standard, but weightlifting became my passion.

I was always a small man, and weights allowed me to become a lot stronger and more powerful — even if not bigger! While completing my master's degree in Experimental Psychology, I "moonlighted" as an instructor in my gym, and the experience was crucial in making me want to coach sport. I loved the interaction with the trainees and I discovered the great rewards of helping people achieve their goals.

The gender of the trainees didn't matter. OK, I knew I was attracted to men (and eventually at 26 did something about it!) but it was the personal interaction which counted. It wasn't an excuse for being with cute men in workout gear!

It helps, of course, that my "take" on sport is almost entirely a "sex-free zone." I've never had much interest in the sort of "Locker Room" fantasy which many gay men enjoy. I've shared shower and locker rooms with literally thousands of naked men since I was 10 and never once felt the smallest hint of sexual arousal. I guess familiarity has completely defused and desensitised any erotic content!

Over a period of 30 years, I have qualified as a coach in field hockey, weightlifting, powerlifting and boxing, and in each of these sports I've been "out." Indeed, the most recent coaching in the Amateur Boxing Club was at their request. They had already made me secretary of the club, knowing I was gay, and they paid the fees for the 5-day course it took to become qualified. My partner Phil also boxes at the club and we simply couldn't have been made more welcome. Fitzroy Lodge is one of the biggest and longest established Amateur clubs in the United KingdomK and has produced many National Champions since it was founded in 1908.

Boxing also been the occasion of an amusing incident and one of the most interesting conversations I've had on the issue of gay sexuality. Two years ago I was with a party of Metropolitan Police and club boxers from London competing against the NYPD (we won!). While being driven round New York in an NYPD police truck, the London boxers and I discussed the issue of gay men parenting. I thought the NYPD officer driving the truck was going to crash! He seemed astonished at what we were discussing, very calmly and rationally, from my perspective as a gay man. Perhaps it's time to question easy assumptions about homophobia in a sport which is often referred to as a bastion of macho conservatism!

The journey from paranoid and closeted teen to openly gay man who played and coached sport on his own terms has been a truly liberating one, and the Gay Games has played its part in making the journey so rewarding. I owe the Federation of Gay Games a great deal — even though I had been "out" in sport for 15 years before I came to NYC in '94. Amsterdam in '98 and Sydney in 2002 just reinforced the positive feelings I have for the Gay Games — although two bronze, one silver and one gold medals obviously helped! To march into a packed Yankee Stadium in '94, together with a wonderful young wrestler from Philadelphia (who I had met that week and who is still a friend), me with my bronze medal, he with his silver, was such an overwhelming emotional experience that I can recall the tears I shed even now. Nothing in my sports experience over almost 50 years can match it!

But what of my experience as an 'out' gay sportsman, sports administrator and coach? Well, I have to report no great trauma, no confrontations, no rejection, no negative comments or overt homophobia. I know it exists. I've just never experienced it at first hand.

For me the rewards of coaching come not just from working with the very talented, but also those who came late to sport — like my long-time partner, Phil. He was even smaller than I as a boy and, as he now describes it at the age of 39, he hated sport with a passion. His physical education at school simply betrayed him. He wasn't good at ball games, hated team sports and was physically small.

Rugby was out of the question and cricket bored him witless. So he did nothing. It was only in his 30s, having hooked up with me, that he discovered that he is a talented runner, loves weightlifting (very strong for his weight) and has become an enthusiastic boxer. Where were the opportunities and the coaches to introduce him to these activities when he was in his teens and twenties? Nowhere to be seen.

My own regular sparring partner at the club, Minh, a Chinese guy in his mid-twenties, always wanted to box, never had the chance when he was younger and was physically small and a shy person. Now he is become a very talented boxer and his girl friend says he is a much happier and fulfilled personbecause of it.

I could go on and on. The thrill of helping people — especially those from unlikely backgrounds — to be the "best that they can be" in sport, is a huge motivation. I don't propose to give it up any time soon! I applaud the FGG and its dedicated volunteers for making a good experience of sport a reality for so many thousands. Long may it continue.

-- Jim Atkinson, London, 21 April 2005

A look back to an athlete's blog from Gay Games VI

Steve, a tennis player from San Diego, was a bit of a pioneer, writing a blog of his trip to Australia to participate in Gay Games VI. Follow his experiences each day as he arrives in Australia, competes in Sydney, and enjoys the sights down under. From the blog's home page:

Track the progress of one Team San Diego tennis player as he puts forth his personal best competing in Gay Games VI, Sydney 2002: Under New Skies. In this online journal, I'll share news, views, experiences, photos...whatever occurs to me. And you'll be able to follow my match-for-match progress as I attempt to take home the gold for San Diego in the C- Division singles and mixed doubles tennis events and in the Poetic Justice poetry slam of the Gay Games VI Sport & Cultural Festival. I'll add entries to this journal on a regular basis and will occassionally e-mail those on my list reminders as the updates are available.

Profile of Cyd Ziegler Jr for Gay Games VII

We know Cyd Ziegler from Outsports, but he's also a veteran Gay Games athlete. Here's a pre-Gay Games VII profile from NewNowNext:


The Gay Games 2006 in Chicago kick off on July 15th. And I’m stretching already! This summer's jock-tastic confab is going to drawing thousands of athletes, artists, partygoers and plain old sports fans to the Windy City for a week-long blast of activities. In addition to some classic sporting events (ya know—basketball, softball, track and field, soccer, volleyball) there are plenty of not-so-traditional events (DanceSport, darts, sailing), and lots of cultural activities (cheer teams, color guards, bands, choral concerts) and more, more, more to wow visitors.

Starting today, every Thursday here at the NewNowNext blog I’m going to give you a profile of an athlete heading to this year’s Gay Games, as a way to give you some personal flavor of what these events are going to be.


Cyd Zeigler: Sports Dude.

First up is NYC’s own Cyd Zeigler (above), perhaps one of gaydom’s most outspoken sports afficianados. Zeigler runs OutSports.com, an online super-bowl of info and news tailor-made for the LGBT sports fan. Cyd’s heading to Chicago to participate sportily, but he also plans to whoop it up all over, absorbing the full flavor of festivities.

But why don’t I let him tell you about it…


So, Cyd... What sport will you be competing in during the Gay Games?
Football. A friend wants me to run the 4 x 400 relay in track too, so I may find my way to the track on Friday.

How did you get started playing football? And how long have you been playing?
Well, oddly enough, I only starting playing football after I came out. I met a great group of friends with the L.A. Motion flag football group in 1996 and the rest is history.


Keep reading HERE.

My Gay Games story: Jamie Roberson, Reston, Virginia

We're keen to hear your stories of your experience of the Gay Games. Here is the story of Reston, Virginia's Jamie Roberson, who wrote us in 2006 about her discovery of triathlon and her plans to compete at Gay Games VII in Chicago. What's your story? Write us!

 In July 2003, I was sitting by a neighborhood pool, pleasantly fluffy-headed from the effects of a smuggled-in adult beverage. After watching lap swimmers go back and forth, I decided, "Hey, I can do that." Two lengths of choppy "freestyle" later, I was breathless and embarrassed. I had just turned 41 and at about 70 pounds overweight, was way too young to feel so old. I remembered being stationed in Hawaii when I was a Navy officer in the 80's; my coworkers were doing what was then called the Tinman Triathlon. I remembered with some shame that I had missed that opportunity and wasted some prime years of fitness. That's when I decided to become a triathlete.

After the beverage buzz wore off, I did some research and was enthralled. I hate to run, and hadn't ridden a bike in decades, but I love to swim. All together, the sum of the three looked way better than the individual parts. I bought some books, starting with "Triathlon for Ordinary Mortals," and found a reasonable walk-to-run program on www.beginnertriathlete.com. Like any good desk-bound non-jock, I made up an Excel chart on my lunch hour and posted it on the side of the fridge. I marked off each day's walk with a diagonal blue line. My dog loved the increased activity, too. My partner, on the other hand, thought that I was insane.

Backing up for a second, I say "desk-bound non-jock" because that's what I am. I've never been an athlete.

Ever. I was an honor student growing up, a band "fag," a nerd. Not that I don't love sports. There aren't many Southerners male or female who don't have a passion for the regional religion of college football. I am and always have been a devoted (non-Southern friends say maniacal) follower of the University of Florida Gators. I just never played sports. I was uncoordinated and uninterested in being sweaty. I couldn't even play softball. Some dyke, huh?

But this triathlon thing had me between the ears. I read and read and read. I walked, then I jogged. I swam in the pool at the county rec center and rode Life Cycles when the weather turned cold. I was even nice to another gym-goer who was as much of a Miami Hurricane as I am a Gator. I bought a bike on eBay. I entered some events.

Ten months later, minus a few pounds of fat that were replaced by muscle, I stood by the pool, ready for my first triathlon. I had competed in the Bethesda, Maryland YMCA tri a few weeks earlier as part of a relay team, but this time it was all on me. Five laps in the pool, 3.5 miles on the bike, and a 1.2 mile run is probably not enough to get any respectable triathlete out of bed on a rainy Sunday morning. For me, though, this was a Big Deal.

One, two, three, four, GO! A nudge on the shoulder from the race director, and into the pool I went. Uh-oh.

Goggles immediately filled with pool water. &$#%!!! I got to the far wall and adjusted, but it was too late. I was over-excited, breathing too hard, and couldn't find the groove I had practiced in so many Total Immersion drills. It was back to freestyle-breaststroke-freestyle and hoping for the best.

I didn't mind the crowded pool lanes, but I really could have done without Mr. Furbag, who kept pulling my shoulder away to pass, especially at congested lane turns in the "snake" formation. Hey, pal, you've touched the side. If you wanna pass me (and the 3-4 others at the edge), go around. Or under. I'll deck you next time.

I figured my swim was toast, so I took the ladder out of the pool and strode out to the transition area. "Wanna go for a bike ride?" I asked the volunteers. Bet they hadn't heard that one all day! Dork.

It had poured rain while we were swimming, but I had put my running shoes and socks under a bucket. Much more pleasant to put on soft cotton. Aaahhh. I slurped some Gatorade (once a Gator...), buckled in, and headed out.

Although it had stopped raining, the road was slick with fresh rain, all of which Godzilla kicked up on my nice fluffy socks. I know that "Godzilla" isn't much of a name for a sleek machine like my QR Kilo, but I was amazed by how much of a beast this machine was (in a good way) after I rode it for the first time. The name just popped into my mind. I put a bendable plastic alligator on the handlebars to ride with me. Geek.

My worries about not being able to properly inflate the tires that morning were allayed somewhat when I realized that a little more rolling resistance might give me better traction on the turns. This was especially important since I primarily train on a rail-to-trail bed. Not too many turns there. But the ride wasn't too hard, and I managed to ride my goal speed of about 15 mph, despite being winded from the swim.

I cruised back into transition and gulped some more Gatorade. Because it was such a short event, I put dual-sided pedals on Godzilla to avoid changing shoes. Uh oh. As soon as I set out ... slosh-slosh-slosh. Runners were already lounging about, eating post-race bananas, and here I was, heading out with water balloons on my feet. Great. But hey, it's only a mile, I can handle it, right?

Then came the Big Uh Oh. Knife-like pain seared up my outer legs from my ankles, while my calves seized up in charley horses. Oh-kay. I can run on knives and charley horses, or I can walk on knives. Walking will take longer. Run, walk, run, limp, walk, run, try not to cry. Quitting is not an option. The charles horses went back to their stall about 100 yards into the course, but the knives just kept going. I just realized that the sooner I got this over, the sooner it would be done. Run, walk, try not to cry. Rinse, repeat.

Finally I finished. My first triathlon was in the books. As soon as I took the shoes off and walked a bit, the knives were gone. The shoes. I should known. I didn't mention buying new shoes over the past ten months because ... I hadn't done it. They had finally given up.

I made some new friends, collected my sodden stuff, and trudged home with no clue about my final time.

Didn't matter. I finished my first triathlon.

---

Postscript: Since that day, I went on to complete several sprint triathlons, a 10-mile run,a half-marathon and an Olympic-distance triathlon, the Reston, Virginia Triathlon. This is the distance in which I am competing at Gay Games 2006. Even though it is the morning after Opening Ceremonies, I am NOT missing Opening Ceremonies! I participated in Gay Games New York in 1994 and played in various band-related events.

But this time, there's no band for me. This time, I'm a triathlete.
— Jamie Roberson, Reston, Virginia

My Gay Games story: Noel Baggett, San Francisco

Photo Golden Gate Wrestling Club

We're keen to hear your stories of your experience of preparing for and participating in the Gay Games. Here is the story of San Francisco's  Noel Baggett. What's your story? Write us!
 
Years ago I did some wrestling in high school and a little in college. It was scary for me, but I felt OK once I was on the mat. I always wanted to get back to it, but never managed to. I thought I was too old for it, but a friend encouraged me to look into it and suggested I contact the Golden Gate Wrestling Club. I went there and, at age 62, I started wrestling again.

I've always been frightened by physical confrontation. Although I don't remember, several family members have told me that I was hit a lot by several family members when I was very young. I believe I'm dealing with this fear when I wrestle.

I've been wrestling for almost a year and a half, and it's been a slow, grueling process. At first I got frustrated easily because I was so slow physically and mentally. My coaches were very patient and allowed me to grow out of that behavior. My flexibility and balance were terrible at first, but have improved a lot. My strength is good and so is my endurance. Nevertheless, I tire easily because I'm so tense. I'm slowly learning to relax when I wrestle.

I work with weights twice a week, but have made the workout more aerobic and am concentrating on free weights to get muscles to work together. I also run several times a week and am now into interval training where I do a lot of short-distance speed work.

I entered my first tournament after about six months of wrestling. I was helpless on my feet and on defense almost the whole time. At my second tournament a few months later I did even worse. I've got a fledging offense now and am in better wrestling shape. I'm still a little scared and tense, but not as much as before. Due to good coaching I've been free of serious injury. For years I had this gut feeling that I wanted to wrestle and am ecstatic that I have the opportunity to do so at my age.

-- Noel Baggett, Golden Gate Wrestling Club, April 2005