When play is work

It's hard to look back, through all the hours of training and thousands of dollars and aching muscles, to where it all began.

It's hard to understand how ``Mommy and Me" or ``Learn to Skate" became the stuff of dreams, a reason to move across the country, a vision of medals and competitions, and how it began to consume their lives.

Because, as much as a parent knows that their child has Olympic talent, the decision to chase an incredibly rare dream isn't easy. And the choices become more difficult and more intricate every day.

This raising of an elite athlete is a difficult process. It takes an emotional, physical, and financial toll. It might damage the child.

So families invest what they have (and sometimes what they don't) into their children, shuttling them to practices and classes and competitions. They go beyond the youth athletics, beyond the Saturday morning soccer practices, beyond the overloaded schedules. These are, supposedly, the ones who can be great. These kids are different: treated differently, schooled differently, raised differently. These are, perhaps, tomorrow's Olympians.

At least that's the plan.

Sure, the glory is nice. It's hard to argue with the pure joy on the face of a Joey Cheek or a Paul Hamm or a Michelle Kwan after a medal-winning performance. It's hard to see the harm in an Olympic dream that sprouts in childhood.

But for every success story -- for every Shani Davis and Kerri Strug -- there are thousands of kids who haven't made it. Those are the kids who got burned out or injured, who left behind the pressure in favor of a more normal young adulthood.

And still, more try every day, simply for a chance at the sliver of opportunity that may (or more likely, may not) come their way.

``The most important thing to understand when they're making their choices [is] they're going to be giving things up," said Joanne Hallisey, a speedskating coach and the mother of Olympic team member Caroline. ``Their life is not going to be the normal teenage life when they make that choice. They're choosing to leave their hometown, their family, their activities to go into a fairly strict regimen. Becoming an athlete is really work."

It's a choice that never goes away. Success always balances with loss. Because even as these kids reach new achievements, soar to new heights, the question remains: In the end, was it worth it?

Matt Hickson, at first, thought the idea was crazy.

Move away? At 14 years old?

``I knew that if I really wanted to make it, I was pretty much going to have to move," said Hickson, a Norwood native who, at 19, is ranked among the elite long-track speedskaters in the country. ``It was tough at first. It was pretty stressful. I didn't know the lady I was living with. I didn't know the people I was training with.

``That first year was the hardest year I've had away. It took some getting used to. Looking back at it, I'm glad I did it. Nobody thinks I'm 19. Everybody thinks I'm 24, 25. I had to grow up fast living on my own, had to look out for myself."

So he brought the recipe book provided by his mother. He ate a lot of macaroni and cheese. And he took the bus, adding extra time to make sure he got where he was going. Because now he was navigating himself. There were no parents to guide him. No one to help with the day-to-day living and growing that comes with being a teenager.

``There's a lot of sacrifice," said Peter Roby, director of Northeastern's Center for the Study of Sport in Society. ``You fear that they're going to be giving up their childhood. And that's the same for child actors, any young person that shows a real skill, a musician, an actor, an athlete. They end up giving up their childhood to pursue that dream."

And that is the main problem -- among so many other potential pitfalls -- that the parents of these athletes strive to avoid. Because even while spending almost 27 hours a week at the gym, as is the case with Petra Matthies of Millis, 13, the idea is to let her live a normal life. Unlike Hickson, Matthies has remained in Millis, attending Millis Middle School and trying to fashion a childhood in between sessions at Brestyan's American Gymnastics Club in Ashland, also the training ground for national team member Alicia Sacramone.

School work happens around gymnastics, mostly during her free study period. Friendships happen around gymnastics, mostly with other gymnasts and the classmates she can round up on a rare free weekend. Life, essentially, happens around gymnastics.

Four or five times each year, Petra heads down to Houston to train with the pool of gymnasts who eventually will make up the national team, being coached by the Karolyis and missing some school for the five-day trips. Teachers get warned in advance. Homework gets done on the plane ride.

``It's a really big part of my life," said Matthies, who finished third among junior women at the 2006 Visa Championships, where the national team is selected. ``If I didn't do gymnastics, I'd probably be so bored, just sitting at home all day. It was kind of hard, but I knew that I had to come.

``I knew I had to do my job."

They all say yes. They all agree that no matter the consequences, no matter the time and money, no matter the angst over missed vaults or fractions of a second or lazy spins, they wouldn't keep training if they didn't see benefits and weren't enjoying it.

Or if it just wasn't worth it.

Not one of them was trying to set off on the road to Olympus. They started early, found an aptitude, and now, years later, must deal with their choice.

``The first concern or thing to keep in mind or watch out for is the singularity in focus and how that can limit appreciation for broader interests, friends, and a normal life," Roby said. ``Although it might not feel like that big a deal at 15, 16, 17, we see some of the effects of that singular focus and lack of perspective as adults and the problems they can sometimes have in transitioning out of their sports and into normal lives."

It's a balance that is sometimes difficult to find and even more difficult to keep. That's why Matthies stayed in traditional school. That's why, though he left Massachusetts for Milwaukee, Hickson did the same.

Taylor Foley, 13, though, an intermediate-level figure skater from Shrewsbury, decided early-morning practice time was more important than the socialization that normally occurs in middle school. She left the classroom behind to be home-schooled by her aunt.

``I think it's a great thing she's focused on," said Lisa Foley, Taylor's mother. ``She's driven and motivated herself. You could never make a child come and do this against their will. Isn't it better to put all that energy into something positive? She has goals. She doesn't deal with any baloney at school. We don't have boys calling our house. It's great."

So, for about 1 hour and 45 minutes a day, Foley sits down with her aunt and studies. She dissects an octopus. She writes a comparison paper about a friend from another country. She goes on field trips.

She skates.

``At first people thought, `You're home-schooling?' like it was something out of the woods in Maine," Lisa Foley said. ``But I really think she learns a lot more. It's one-on-one, no distractions like there are in school. And socially? People thought socially, `It's not right, it's not normal.' But I think nowadays, what's normal in school, that's not normal for us."

It is easy, though time consuming, to add up the financial costs of the dream.

So much goes into Petra Matthies's gymnastics education that ``it's like a full-time job just paying for everything she has to do," said Janet Matthies, declining to offer a dollar figure. ``Like, we don't have a vacation house. Maybe we would if we didn't do gymnastics.

``It's a deliberate choice and everybody seems OK with it."

None of these sports -- individual or team -- are inexpensive. In the case of Petra, the money goes to monthly tuition, the USA Gymnastics membership fee, traveling expenses for her and family members, traveling expenses for coaches, and equipment.

But it's more difficult to quantify the other costs.

For instance, Hickson's teenage years with his family.

``You have to stop and realize, `Wait, I'm not in my 20s. I'm young,' " Hickson said. ``I can't be staying up late and going out and doing all this stuff. It's hard. When you're around [older] people all the time, you start to feel like you're that age. You have to realize you can be a kid . . . You're missing out on some parts of being a teenager."

That's only part of the danger.

``There are a lot of risks for these kids," said Dr. Richard Ginsburg, a clinical psychologist at Massachusetts General Hospital and coauthor of ``Whose Game Is It, Anyway? A Guide to Helping Your Child Get the Most from Sports, Organized by Age and Stage." ``Balance is something we try to keep in mind for all these kids. Do they have friendships? Are they doing well in school? Do they have good relationships with adults? Do they have variety in their lives? The answer to those questions with these kinds of kids is often no. Then it takes an extraordinary kid with an extraordinary family to stay balanced."

Helping their children fit in socially becomes part of the job for parents. Lisa Foley makes sure Taylor spends time outside playing with her cousins, who live nearby. Janet Matthies pushes Petra to be more assertive, to call her school friends when she's home for a rare weekend to make plans. They all know they have missed something. Something they will continue to miss.

At the same time, the parents often are managing other children. As much of a sacrifice as the athletes are making, others often make more.

``She demands more attention and needs it," said Janet Matthies, who has two other daughters, who are 14 and 11 years old. ``I just try to explain to everybody that this really requires a lot of effort now. It's not that we're not interested in what you're doing."

Management. Of money, time, and others. Trying to make sure the costs -- though always high -- don't outweigh the benefits.

``I think the key is to take as much of the pressure off as you can, so they don't get isolated in this corner of the world," Janet Matthies said. ``The training is very isolating. She needs to go to museums, she needs to be in different places, she needs to feel like she's living a life at the same time. Otherwise, what is it all for?"

That's the question. That's the future.

Where, in the end, are they going?

``Parents, they get stars in their eyes, for one," Hallisey said. ``I've tried to tell athletes to be very careful about how they choose their futures. I think some parents do get a little ahead of themselves. And sometimes the athletes do, as well."

The end isn't clear for any of these athletes -- nor, it seems, should it be during the teenage years.

Hickson, at one time, almost left skating behind.

He got tired and frustrated last summer. He needed time off, so he took it; he lived in Salt Lake City, where he had most recently been training. Then he realized that if he was no longer chasing his dream, he could go home. Milwaukee drew him, though, on the long drive. He could see his friends, visit with them on his way back east. But something kept him there. He wasn't quite ready to be done. So he stayed, and resumed his skating.

Similarly, Matthies almost left gymnastics behind. The aches, physical and mental, nearly got to be too much. Those are the moments of greatest concern, the moments that yield to injuries and burnout, the moments that erase years and years of training and enjoyment of the sport.

``That's one of my biggest concerns," Janet Matthies said. ``I don't want her to be broken when she's done and say I'm never going to let my kids do gymnastics because my back is killing me."

That's exactly what they're all trying to avoid. Every athlete wants to leave a sport on their terms -- wants to exit on top, triumphantly.

Too many times, though, that's not the case. And that's where these athletes get a little nervous. Because they realize that anything could happen at any time. One fall, and a career can be over before it really began. One string of bad results, and the doubt creeps in.

``I've seen countless times where they'll try their whole life for skating and they'll reach somewhere in their mid-20s and they've spent 20 years skating and countless thousands of dollars and they're sitting there in their mid-20s and they haven't reached anywhere," Hickson said. ``It's hard to think that could happen to you."

That, simply, is the chance these athletes take.

All three are on a path that could lead to the Olympics. Matthies is too young to head to Beijing in 2008, so she keeps the national team tucked away in her plans, and doesn't yet think about London in 2012. For a 13-year-old, six years is much too far ahead to plan. Hickson knows that, with much of the long-track team retiring after Turin, his chances for Vancouver in 2010 skyrocket. And in the end, the lifespan of a speedskater is much lengthier than that of many other Olympic-sport athletes. He estimates there are three more Olympic teams to try for before retirement could beckon. But that's a long time to train. Foley's goal still includes triple jumps but, she says, not much more.

And no matter their success, the athletes will continue to face other issues and concerns. No matter their definition of ``normal," their childhoods bear no similarities to those of their peers.

``She always struggles with being different," Janet Matthies said. ``She talks about it a lot. I think it's important for her to fit in everywhere she is. She doesn't like to stand out, but she does stand out. It's kind of like an inner conflict. Sometimes she's more comfortable with it. Other times she wants to hide and just go with the flow and be one of the crowd."

No, ``normal" is not for them. And, even as they reject the lives that their classmates have fallen into -- that ``childhood" that experts worry they lose -- the goal remains in sight. And though a chance to reach the amateur pinnacle may not have been the reason they started, it is the reason they endure.

``It would have been nice to relax through four years of high school, go to school, go home, watch TV," Hickson said. ``But then I think, `How many chances am I going to have to go to the Olympics? Is it worth a normal life to have a chance to go to the Olympics? Is it worth it?'

``I'd give up all those activities to go to the Olympics."

Amalie Benjamin can be reached at abenjamin@globe.com.