It happened 10 days ago in Nemea, Greece, for several dozen fortunate "students" of sports history on a wondrous adventure called "The Olympics of Ancient Greece." It was as much a centennial celebration of the Games in their birthplace as a journey of rediscovery of the true meaning of the Olympic spirit.
The group was blessed to have in its midst several people who personify the soul of the Games: the great Rafer Johnson, the 1960 Olympic decathlon gold medalist; Stanford track coach emeritus Payton Jordan, coach of the 1968 U.S. Olympic track team; and U.S. javelin thrower Karin Smith, one of only eight athletes in the world to have made five Olympic teams.
For nearly two weeks, this lucky study group was continually treated to once-in-a-lifetime moments. A walk through the athletes' tunnel and into the Olympic Stadium in Athens, site of the first modern Games in 1896 ... a walk through the recently unearthed athletes' tunnel into the stadium at Nemea, one of four Crown Games sites of the ancient athletic Greek world.
One day, it was watching Johnson retrace his steps in the stadium at Delphi where he and 1968 decathlon champion Bill Toomey reenacted the ancient Greek pentathlon for a 1972 film by ABC Sports.
Another day, it was glimpsing the flashes of the speed that Jordan, now 79, had while a sprinter for Southern Cal right after the depression. Even in long pants, the form Jordan exhibited in an impromptu race down the track of the ancient stadium in Olympia was flawless.
But the highlight of the trip was the opportunity to compete in the New Nemean Games, a revival of a competition festival that has been dormant for over 2,300 years. Members of the Society for the Revival of the Nemean Games believe that there is a need for the average person - regardless of ethnicity, language, religion, gender or age - to participate in an international athletic festival.
It is surely a noble ideal the Society has, and the only one that would ever give me the courage to run 100 meters, barefoot and in a toga, in front of several thousand spectators.
As fate would have it, Karin Smith was in my age-group race. When her name was announced, a loud murmur quickly ran through the crowd, a portend perhaps of Smith's own foot speed.
At 41, Smith is in incredible shape. Olympic shape. This month, she would have been at her seventh U.S. Olympic trials had she not torn her shoulder helping at a youth camp a few months ago.
We walked through the athletes' tunnel together with the six other women in our heat, becoming some of the first women ever to enter the stadium as athletes since the ancient Games were open only to males. Smith began to cry, saying she was experiencing the same proud feeling she had when walking out of the tunnel into the Seoul stadium in 1988.
"My worst fear was that I was going to trip between the start and the first 30 meters," Smith said after winning the race by nearly 50 meters. "Once I got going, I felt the fluidity. From the last 40 meters, I felt like the crowd was so with me, that by the time I finished, I wanted to run back and do it all over again.
"My regret is I didn't savor the moment. Instead, I went back to apologize to everyone in my race because it wasn't fair for me to be in their race. I felt bad that I took their thunder away. But I wanted to take part so badly in something of such significance and I wanted to do my best."
Smith need not have worried. The rest of us - especially me - didn't come into the race with the idea of winning. We shared her desire of participating and trying to do our best.
Personally, it's wonderful to say that I have run with an Olympian. She brought something extra to our race that the other participants didn't enjoy.(Unfortunately, Jordan had to leave before the Nemea Games began, leaving Cal athletic director John Kasser to successfully carry the day for the U.S. in the 61-year-olds' race).
Smith was an inspiration to all who ran with her and made us all feel like winners.
Sometimes you're just blessed with being part of an interlocking cosmic jigsaw piece. The puzzle of life continually revolves, much like the interworking cogs of a timepiece; every once in a while, you again come around to meet someone special.
I interviewed Smith 19 years ago when we were both students at UCLA. She had just made her first Olympic team but didn't medal; she hasn't in the four Olympics since.
But 10 days ago, Smith finished first at Nemea. Her reward was a palm frond and a headband inscribed, "Nemea 1996." She treated them like gold.
Smith felt these were her Olympics. They were mine, too.