Adam: Thanks again for taking the time to share your story and your advice. First things first, though, I am sure readers would love to learn more about you. What is something about you that would surprise people? 

AJ: I’m just a regular guy--I never dreamed of being an Olympian.  In fact, getting to the “games” as we’d call it was just simply never something that I personally wished for.  The Games seemed to be for others who I viewed as superhuman, in a way. The Olympic “dream” only took shape when I had a purpose of trying to get Israel there.  And so I guess people are often surprised when they ask me about what it was like to fulfill a dream of going to the Olympics, and I can only try to explain as best as I can that I will forever be proud of Israel’s accomplishment—because I was a representative--an agent to get them there.  It was Israel who qualified, and Israel who was represented.

You mentioned “achievement” in some of the questions below. The Olympics are not a personal achievement, at least for me.  I was an ambassador of my country—the Olympics are their achievement. I was just privileged to be afforded the opportunity to represent them, and it is a gift that I will forever cherish, but I do not consider the Olympics to be my achievement. The achievement is what can be done as a result.  Who can be helped, inspired, touched? What good can come from the journey? When I know that I have helped someone, that the journey allowed me to inspire someone to overcome the challenges they face—that I take pride in as an achievement.

Adam: Looking back, what is your sharpest or most significant memory from your Olympic experience? 

AJ: The inside of a cold, dark shipping container. 

My Games experience was a painful one that ended on a high note.  The Olympic season sees intense competition between athletes, for obvious reasons.  Late in the season and into the Games, an athlete who viewed me as a threat to his potential rank threatened me and slandered me by inventing stories to other athletes and some media members, trying to knock me off my game.  I did my best to tune this out but it was a constant distraction and source of fear that I might cause embarrassment to Israel if it blew up. This tail-ended with an episode where my helmet (an anti-concussion system I had designed/tested at great personal risk to my qualification chances) was unjustly disqualified just before competition when I’d have no time to prepare with new equipment. The helmet had been deemed fully legal in 2 qualification races, but an Olympic race official involved made an antisemitic remark about “you people make all the rules, well, not today.”  With the stress of what had been going on already, I stood a real good shot at completely losing myself. Trying to slide on different equipment is like swapping out someone’s keyboard with another of a different size—you make mistakes and typing becomes slower for a time. The one training run I got to practice with different equipment my times took a nosedive and I fell to last place.

I truly didn’t know what had happened.  It felt clearly targeted and I just thought “what did I do to deserve this?”  Not only was the helmet legal, it presented an aerodynamic disadvantage (so was not an advantage,) but more importantly it was a step forward in keeping athletes safe.  “Why won’t they just let me slide fairly?” I’d asked the head of my Federation, in resignation. These were the Olympics! This was supposed to be a happy, positive time of teamwork and sportsmanship and in that moment it just seemed to be anything but.  A poor performance the next day could seriously do damage to the future of my federation, which was new to the Israel Olympic family. If I did shamefully, should another athlete from Israel qualify in the future, they might not send him/her. And so I was filled with this fear.  Fear of failure. Of loss. Of embarrassment—not of myself, but of my country.

At the track we had these metal shipping containers (like on those cargo ships) that we could work on our equipment in private.  I should have been resting, sleeping, working on my equipment, but there I was, staring at the wall of this cold, dark shipping container.  Eventually I did find myself, and came to embrace a belief that I absolutely have faith in—“fear is a measure of potential.” I had only ever feared scenarios that I knew I could succeed in (I did a TedX talk on this somewhere on youtube.)  I knew Israel qualified not because of any helmet or anything else—Israel qualified because we worked so hard and earned the berth through exceptional performance. And so the next day I went out resolved to crush it, and deliver a really worthy sliding performance.  As I came across the finish line on the first run I was only in 28th position, and I knew that I’d had the potential to be higher, but I was so incredibly proud that we’d overcome the fear, and delivered a good performance that I was pumping my arms so hard (the announcers were so confused!)  That run I put in the best push (sprinting start) that I ever had, and put in a really Olympic-caliber slide. I was elated.

It’s an unfortunate truth of life that I believe we truly grow so much when faced with situations we would prefer were more pleasant.  I will always be so proud that I had the opportunity to grow from it, and that Israel was well represented. It is such a powerful memory.

Adam: What is something that would surprise people about the life of an Olympian? 

AJ: Along the way: the goal is your life.

When I set out to try and qualify Israel for the Olympics, I was told very matter-of-factly by a coach who evaluated me “you are not what we’d call ‘athletic’” and that I “lacked the skills necessary…[I’d] never be competitive.”  That’s what sealed the deal for me to make sure that I’d get it done for Israel. I had been more seriously considering speed skating—I excelled in the initial sessions I’d attended—the carryover from my hockey skills were very much a help, but no one tells me that I can’t do something (only I tell myself, haha.)  So when I heard that report I wrote down that evening 2,884—the number of days until the 2022 Olympics, and I resolved not to rest a single day until then. If Israel didn’t qualify by 2022 I could quit. From that day on I dedicated my life to qualifying Israel. I couldn’t afford a coach so I self-coached via the pain receptors in my body (if you make a mistake in skeleton you get punished hard for it,) and by watching endless hours of youtube (often 10 hours a day,) which allowed me to become a good “driver” of the sled by creating exceptionally strong neuropathways.  So that might be surprising to some—the off-ice training is so critical—but also that you don’t have to be a born athletic “specimen” to excel. The Olympics I believe is far more about resilience and pushing through the “you cant’s” of life.

After—this one is probably most surprising to people.  Practically speaking, nothing changes about ones self. I should repeat that—nothing changes.  You are no different a person the day before than you were afterwards. If you were a kind person before you will likely still be kind.  If you were empty before, the Olympics does not complete you. And if you were hungry for something to see through, a goal perhaps, before, you will be hungry the day after as well for the next Games.  It’s actually a wonderful lesson that I try so hard to pass onto the athletes I mentor, and that John Farrow, an amazing skeleton athlete (far better than myself) and a great friend tried to tell me so many times. 

What does change is what I always had wanted out of the Games.  A platform to make a change in peoples’ lives. For better or worse people listen to Olympians—especially kids and young adults.  And so I am glad that it affords me an opportunity to pass on lessons that I hope will improve their lives. I get messages from kids often who heard that I was bullied as a kid and experienced difficulties as a result.  And I’m glad when I’m able to give even a small word or two of advice, because it transforms the Olympic journey from what could be a selfish endeavor into something that is a force for good and change in the world.

Adam: How did you get here? What experiences, failures, setbacks and challenges have been most instrumental to your growth? 

AJ: Bullying killed me at age 10.

There really is no getting around it for me—when I was a kid I experienced relentless bullying from ages 10-12.  Prior to this I was a self-confident, social athlete. The AJ before that bullying died, replaced by the far more complex individual I am today. From then on had to reckon with a lot of the self-doubt and personal difficulties that stay with you when that happens.  One of the ways I combated the sadness and anger I felt during those years was to promise myself that I would try to accomplish something in life, and always be better.  

I’ve failed a ton.  As a human, a friend, an athlete.  We all do, we’re humans. I probably failed as an athlete far more than the typical Olympian.  But every time I had this kind of deep-rooted need to fix it, or at least move on and be better.  All because of the bullying. I can’t look at what happened to me as a blessing—in truth I would be a far different person without that having occurred.  But I can consider the mindset of “be better” as a blessing. Because not so many are as fortunate to have that sort of reaction.

Adam: What are the best lessons you learned from the achievement of becoming an Olympian? 

AJ: Every choice you make, if based on good intent and consideration, is the correct one for you.  And only you can travel along your path and achieve what you achieve.

I have so often thought about whether I would do it all again, knowing what I do now.  Was it the right choice? The Olympic journey itself was so painful, emotionally and physically.  I passed up opportunities that in hindsight would have made me enormously successful financially (I sold almost all my cryptocurrency before the boom to afford my Olympic season,) and instead find myself in a financial hole that will take years to make up for.  Fear and self-doubt were magnified to an enormous degree. The isolation of being on the road led to a lot of difficulty in building relationships, making finding a life partner so much harder—an issue I am currently working on.

Yet there is no arriving where we are now without the exact steps that came before.  And every time I wonder whether it was the right decision to make I know it was. And the only reason I can reach out and touch peoples’ lives, even for just a brief moment when meeting them, is only possible because I made a good decision to pursue a goal I thought was noble and good.  And at the time I was the only person who could make that decision. I would not trade anything for the ability to do good, and the journey allowed me to do some good.

Every one of us makes decisions in life that can drastically alter our course, with varied outcomes. Yet if you made a decision for the right reason, it is always correct.

Adam: What are the best lessons you learned from the achievement of becoming the first Orthodox Jew to compete in the Winter Olympics? 

AJ: Everything that has not been done can be done.  

Whether that is in your own life, your community, or the world.  Just because it is hard, or no one has done it before—go out and do it! You have the ability to do so.  I’m only the “first” because no one did so before, but that is certainly not to say that someone far more gifted won’t do it in another 4 years.  So many times we look at things and say “oh that’s impossible, no one’s done it!” But that’s no the right way of thinking about challenges—instead I would look at a challenge and say “no one’s done that yet…I’m gonna go make it happen.”  Everyone is capable of so many good and difficult things. Dig deep, move forward. I guarantee it—you can accomplish what you set out to accomplish.

Adam: You told me that you have had to fight a significant amount of antisemitism. Can you share your experience and how you have managed to stay strong and fight back? 

AJ: Oh man, yeah. From being turned away from inns in Germany (“you would be better off elsewhere”) to being spit on in Istanbul, to being called a “dirty jew” by another athlete, to the aforementioned taunt at the Olympics, antisemitism was very, very present in my journey.  Early on, after two deeply antisemitic remarks by separate athletes, I realized that everyone represents not only themselves but their communities and people at large, and given that fact, I could be a force for good.  

So often, people have heard about Jews but not really interacted with them, at least not ones who were so clearly Jewish.  And so I resolved to become an ambassador of not just Israel, but of Jews in general. I adopted a motto that I have inscribed on my Olympic ring in Hebrew.  I’d repeat the motto before every race run, just before I took off. “For myself, for my people, for my country.” I knew the best way to fight negative perceptions of Jews was to be an example—to interact positively with everyone that I could.  Israel told me early on not to wear anything identifying me as an Israeli athlete in non-secure (outside of competition) areas, especially traveling through Europe. I did the opposite. I designed my suit with a massive star of David on the back, and in a way that no matter what angle I could be photographed from, an Israeli symbol would be clearly visible.  When I finished up training at the tracks, I would often invite kids or spectators down from stands to lie on the sled, or talk to them about what it was like competing. The only way to fight hatred is with love and kindness, and that became a critical mission of mine. I view these moments as far more important than the Olympics, and I take more pride in them.

Adam: You are a strong anti-bullying advocate. How can we as a society fight bullying? What are your core messages and best pieces of advice? 

AJ: It is incredibly difficult to fight bullying as it stands, because bullying in my view is a cancerous byproduct of deeper issues.  Low self-esteem, wanting to fit in, viewing those who are different than you as “others,” and even lack of love. Bullying is a means of trying to raise someone up through the terrible method of putting someone else down.  We have to fight bullying by addressing the root causes. Better mental health counseling for children and young adults, making sure they feel loved and cared for by their teachers, parents and friends. And to bridge the gap between what seems different or foreign and what seems familiar and comfortable.

If there is anyone, even just one kid who is experiencing bullying and reading this, I want you to know not that “it gets better.”  I know just how terribly irrelevant that platitude is to you. But I do want you to know that not only are you loved and cared about (I care about you and I don’t even know you, so surely someone closer to you does,) but that those who are targeting you are doing so because they know they are lower than you.  They are trying to bring themselves up, attaching their rope to you and pulling on it. And one day they will no longer be present in your life, but you will be, and you can achieve some spectacular successes that they can only dream of. I can’t wait to read about you someday.

Adam: In your experience, what are the defining qualities of an effective leader? How can leaders and aspiring leaders take their leadership skills to the next level? 

AJ: Leadership is an abstraction.  There is no unit of leadership nor are there pre-defined roles that are required in order for one to be a leader.  Leadership is something that is present in the moment as a byproduct of direction. We observe “leadership” when we move in a direction, shepherded by someone or something.

We like to think of leaders as these walking epicenters of some quality called “leadership,” when I think the truth is that we are all “leaders,” but effect our leadership on different scales.  We start with leadership of self, and very often we can only move onto greater scales when we have mastered that. And it always comes down to that—leadership of self. Improve your own ability to marshal your convictions and move forward, confidently and with resolve, and you will be more effective at doing so with others.

Adam: What are your three best tips applicable to entrepreneurs, executives and civic leaders?

AJ: 

1. Destiny vs. Fate—choose destiny.  Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik, a famous 20th century theologian, described the difference between fate (it is my predefined path, I will traverse it no matter what I do,) and destiny (though I have a beginning and end-point, I move all of the pieces in the middle.)  I knew that I was never going to be a great skeleton athlete—I was told I’d never make the Olympics. So I decided that even if I never achieved superstar proficiency, I would get to the end of my skeleton journey and Israel would have qualified.

2. Be humble—none of us are where we are without the achievements of others.  I only am an Olympian because Israel allowed me the honor of representing them.

3. Go all-out.  I lived my sport existence under the philosophy of “if you’re not training on Christmas your opponent is.”  I never took a single day off—even ‘rest’ was a calculated step in the process. Live your goals, make them of paramount value to them and you will achieve terrific things.

Adam: What is the single best piece of advice you have ever received?

AJ: “I bet on myself.”

2016 was a nightmarish season.  I was so far off of Olympic qualification pace, even for 2022 I thought, that I fully intended to quit and return to my job at Oracle.  I wrote a letter of resignation and apology to my supporters. But I remembered years before hearing someone tell me that nothing is a gamble if you are betting on yourself. I tore it up and wrote in my notebook “I bet on myself.”  Instead I wrote a letter of resignation to my manager at Oracle, and rededicated myself to getting Israel her Olympic berth.

Adam: Is there anything else you would like to share?

AJ: I have rarely ever in my life been classified as the best at anything.  That goes doubly for sports. I am just a guy who tried really hard, with a mission that I thought was, in a word, “good.” My mission is now to help others using the lessons I’ve learned, so if you have any questions please feel free to send an Instagram message, @ajedelman