Joel Leonard: Rethinking Participation Trophies
Column by Joel Leonard
As we say goodbye to the Summer of 2026, this is a perfect moment to pause and reflect on our personal health trophies — the small wins we earn simply by surviving — and to refocus on pursuing prized trophies in the third and fourth quarters of the year. This column has been one of the hardest pieces I’ve ever tried to move from cranium to keyboard. I’ve just endured some of the most difficult experiences of my life. My hope is that by reflecting and sharing openly, someone else will find the courage and strength to face their own health adversities.
Rethinking Participation Trophies
We usually hear the phrase "participation trophies" when older generations complain that youth sports no longer emphasize winners and losers. They argue that kids don’t learn consequences — positive or negative — and sneer at the idea of celebrating “just showing up.”
But what if we expanded that definition? In life — especially in health — just surviving another day is a participation trophy. Many of us earn these trophies simply by living through challenges, setbacks, and unhealthy habits.
A County of Contrasts
Here in Davidson County, USA — once the land of milk and honey, now too often the land of obesity and diabetes — our lifestyle has shifted dramatically. We moved from an agricultural economy to careers filled with endless reports, hundreds of emails, constant digital entertainment, addictive apps, and chronic stress. All of these contribute to low activity levels and high health risks.
My Wake-Up Call
After a July 4th celebration filled with starchy potato salad, sugary drinks, heavy cream, and a few beers, I woke up with a serious infection — a health participation trophy earned not from one holiday, but from years of sedentary living and a lifelong sugar addiction. I was rushed to the hospital and spent some of the worst — and strangely, most wonderful — days of my life. I lost five toes, but I gained something far more valuable: a renewed chance to participate in life and pursue prized trophies like restored health and a deeper connection with God, whom I prayed to in ways I never had before.
I’ve never been a deeply religious man, though I’ve always been passionate about fixing societal challenges. But being cared for by an incredible medical team opened my eyes. Yes, amputation can be seen as a participation trophy — but it also became a turning point. During that week in the hospital, I had time to reflect, reconcile relationships with God and estranged family members, confront financial challenges, and even begin learning Spanish. A high school classmate who’s now a pilot helped me practice, and we even learned a few colorful words to better understand “situational analysis” in foreign countries.
Managing Diabetes With Better Tools
Like many diabetics, I used to ignore daily finger-pricking because it felt tedious. But to earn more prized trophies — more days of feeling well — I finally requested a continuous glucose monitor that attaches to my tricep and connects to my phone. Now I can make smarter decisions: eat protein first, allow small amounts of carbs, and enjoy fruits like bananas and blueberries hydrated with water, soups, and herbal teas. This isn’t medical advice — just personal observations supported by conversations with medical staff. Always consult a qualified healthcare professional for guidance.
From Participation to Prized Trophies
I hope sharing my journey encourages others to push past stigma, increase physical activity, and move from participation trophies to the ultimate prize: a healthier lifestyle, a stronger body, and the resilience to face future adversities.
Inspired by Wounded Warriors
Recently, while competing in the Lucky Dog Racing League at Virginia International Raceway, I met four double-amputee veterans. They called me a hero after hearing about my work developing strategies to strengthen the pipeline of skilled technicians.
But they are the heroes. These disabled veterans skydive, scuba dive, and race multi-turn, multi-speed tracks using hand controls — competing against expensive cars driven by able-bodied racers. Watching them outperform others was profoundly inspiring.
So now that I’ve lost five toes? No big deal. Time to chase more prized trophies: health, faith, family, business, and purpose. And I won’t let participation trophies hold me back — especially with encouragement from the gifted Kelly Leonard, author of Pressing On Towards the Prize, who has guided me through this adversity.

