Professional Alchemy: Turning Stone into Gold

The first modern Olympics in 1896 were more of a “local talent show” than a “world stage.”

Only 14 countries showed up, and many of the most famous events weren’t even played professionally at the time.

But 20-year-old Princeton undergraduate Robert Garrett was talented at field athletics.

His coach pulled Garrett and a few others together to make the very first ‘Team USA’.

As one of the best athletes, Garrett’s coach suggested he try the discus.

He looked like he had the build for it and could surely learn it quite quickly.

The only problem was that nobody had ever thrown a discus in the USA — they just didn’t exist.

Not a single discus in the country for him to practice with, and bold Garrett was still keen to give it a go.

He and the coach trotted down to the local museum, estimated the weight and dimensions from several Greek statues and drawings, and briefed a local workman to make them a discus.

The result was a 14kg hunk of stone.

Garrett struggled. He practised for weeks but could barely send the discus more than a few meters.

To make matters worse, on board the ship to Athens, they realised they had the wrong start date.

The Greeks used the Julian, not the Gregorian, calendar, meaning the event started two weeks earlier than they thought.

They rushed to Athens and arrived just in time for the opening ceremony.

At the stadium, Garrett got talking to a Greek athlete (the favourite to win the event) who showed him his discus.

It weighed less than 2kg, had a tiny 20cm diameter, and was made of wood.

As he stood in the stadium in front of 80,000 spectators, he realised he had only just received all the information he needed.

He had three throws to get it right with this new discus.

He’d been training hard with the old 14kg version, so this one was much easier to throw but harder to aim with.

With zero style or swagger, Garrett heave-hoed, and the discus went flying. He was way off.

He took a deep breath and hurled the second discus. Still off, but better.

The crowd was laughing — even the Americans.

He had one throw left.

It was his last chance, so he adjusted his technique and threw that discus with everything he had. And with those few improvised tweaks and adjustments, he won.

He defeated the Greeks at their own game, with (what he felt was) no experience.

Though Garrett had felt frustrated and defeated at times, training with the wrong discus meant he was stronger and fitter than the others. All he had to do was focus and aim.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — 

When I first heard this story, my little 25-year-old copywriting heart swelled.

I was part of a generation experiencing more than just uphill struggles.

I was starting out in an industry that had changed overnight. Social media had us grappling. Web banner briefs plagued creative departments, and the idea of ‘the big idea’ was already being questioned.

I tried to reassure myself that the turmoil that was going on around me was all training.

Training that would make me better at my job, faster, and more capable of taking on the next challenge.

I was just like Robert Garrett.

I persevered, thinking that overcoming all those blind spots would thrust me toward the top of my industry. A ‘Chief Creative Officer’ title in a huge agency. Moody black-and-white photos of me with my arms crossed on a jury panel. Talking about work instead of making it would be ‘success’.

Thank God it didn’t.

What I was actually being trained for was to question everything. Not just the strategy and the briefs I was given, but the job itself. Did it fit into the new online world? Did someone have a strategy for that? What would my ‘big idea’ be?

Over 10 years later at the start of this year, my questions largely answered and my spirit jaded to the core, I reopened those questions.

My soul-searching took me back to my 25-year-old self — to my values.

As a well-balanced Scot (a chip on each shoulder), my passion has and always will lie with the underdog. The people, people. The ones who have the biggest fight on their hands and the biggest hearts.

It’s why I veered off my advertising career path and, along with my little sister Alexandra Dewar (also a fighter with a big heart), opened our own Brand Strategy and Communications agency Violet Rae.

We've meticulously designed it from the inside out to empower start-ups and SMEs, to give them their chance to throw their discus and win.

So far, entrepreneurship has been a game-changer for me as a creative — I’ve had the freedom to shape my vision and blend my work effortlessly with what I believe in and value.

Garrett graduated from Princeton University and later became a banker and a philanthropist.

He is remembered not only for his athletic achievements but also for his adventurous spirit and determination, which permeated everything he did.

He turned a miscalculated stone discus into a gold medal through sheer determination. His triumph wasn’t just physical strength but his embrace of the unknown.

Garrett was quoted after the event, saying, “I wanted as much action as I could since it meant ‘fun’.”

I think that’s why nearly all of us get into these creative jobs — for fun. But it’s our personal responsibility to find a way to enjoy the journey.

The path we may need to take will probably require a bit of bravery, but we’ll be so well-trained, that all we’ll have to do is focus and aim.