Competitive spirit: Porter County Special Olympics

Every four years, millions of viewers tune in to watch athletes from around the world throw spears, jump over bars, tumble around on mats and dive into a pool. During the two weeks that the Olympic Games are in full swing, everyone, it seems, is a fan. Yet when the big global competition ends, you're unlikely to find very many of those same "fans" tuning into some other random kayak race or swim relay. Why? In truth, most of the people who religiously follow the Olympics probably aren't nearly as interested in the sports themselves as much as they are in the competitors - in other words, the stories behind the games. Watching some guy you've never heard of fling a discus may be mildly entertaining, but knowing the difficulties he overcame and the hard work he put in to get to that point is what really draws us in and makes us care.

That same appreciation for and interest in the inspiring backstories of the competitors is even more pronounced at the Special Olympics. Make no mistake - there are some impressive athletic feats being turned in by the athletes with special needs during these events. But the effort to overcome the unique challenges they face and the sense of joy and accomplishment in their moment of competition is enough to make a fan of anyone with a heart.

Few people know this better than Diane Havrilla. Her son Nick has special needs, and the distance he's traveled between first trying to learn to swim at age 6 and now participating in the Porter County Special Olympics (PCSO) at age 17 amazes her every time she sees it with her own eyes. Nick now plays several sports, including basketball and golf with his dad Bob.

"The experience of Nick learning how to swim was probably harder for me than for him, because I didn't think he could swim or learn to swim," she recalls. "But Lorrie Woycik at PCSO knew he could and would - my heart said no, but Lorrie kept saying he can and will if you let him try. Now Nick is a great swimmer with lots of gold, silver and bronze medals. He never stops wanting to learn to get faster, all because Lorrie knew how to show him he could."

Stories like Havrilla's are fairly common among Special Olympics athletes and their parents, with doubt and anxiety often being the first hurdles to clear. But with the encouragement and help of Special Olympics personnel, soon the young competitors begin to develop the skills they need and start to gain some confidence. Before you know it, concern over whether they'll be able to even do the activity in question is replaced by a desire to do it better than anyone else.

"It's funny with these kids," Havrilla explains. "They start to learn what winning is and they don't like it if they only get ribbons and not medals. We have to tell them that they did their best, but this time someone else was better."

Seeing the progress that Nick has made and the positive impact it has had on not only his physical skills but his self-confidence, Havrilla wouldn't hesitate to recommend Special Olympics to any parent of a child with special needs. She has been so impressed with the program, in fact, that she recently agreed to become a coordinator with PCSO so she can try to pass along some of the same encouragement and positivity that she received as a nervous parent. She's sure that many of the newcomers she meets will turn into big fans of not just their own children, but all of the Special Olympians they encounter.

"As a parent getting involved in Special Olympics, you're thinking you're just going to watch your own kid and nothing else, but this turns out to be so far from the truth," she says. "You start by meeting one mom, then a dad, then you start watching their kid, and before you know it, you're wishing the same things for them that you wanted for your child. We all cheer and smile and cry when we see things happen that we as parents thought we would never be able to experience. We all feel the excitement just like they were one of our own, because we're all one big family and we all care."