I never played team sports growing up. I danced for several years—I was a child of the 80s, after all, and any child of the late 80s and early 90s will tell you about their early dance lessons. But I never had an innate drive to engage in any other kind of movement. It wasn’t that I was necessarily bad at sports (my hand-eye coordination was OK, although I could have been a bit faster), but as a small, book-loving person, I just didn’t enjoy movement as much as others my age. I liked reading, and I liked getting better at something (like writing), and I liked being a little more reserved overall.

My parents didn’t mind that I wasn’t particularly athletic. They let us kids do whatever we wanted, and although they loved watching sports (there was always soccer or basketball on TV), having athletically oriented kids wasn’t a particular goal or desire for them. Looking back, I would have been a terrible athlete in general. I really had no competitive spirit and no desire to put in so many hours of practice. When I watch sports games, I think about how sad the other team must be after a loss. When I play board games, I ask everyone if they’re enjoying it. I like watching people win at something they enjoy so much, even when I lose.

At the Olympics – the pinnacle of athleticism and patriotism – we watched, but we weren’t at the level of the Olympic families glued to the TV. We watched the opening ceremony, we cheered, we watched (mostly) gymnastics and swimming, and then we just watched in the background as people achieved their dreams. But I didn’t watch the whole thing and think, “Wow, that could be me.” I just admired it and took it all in.

But when I got the chance to fly to the Olympics on Delta, the official airline of the U.S. team, I was thrilled. (No, really, I literally cried.) I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see these athletes perform at their peak in person, and I was determined to make the most of the experience. But I never expected the reaction I got.

We are all constantly moving towards something – with our bodies, but also with our hearts and our minds.

It started with pure excitement. Our competition schedule was as follows: opening ceremony, men’s and women’s swimming, women’s gymnastics and beach volleyball. The opening ceremony started fairly dry before we got wet in the rain (thankfully our ponchos protected us a little). All I could think about the whole time was the athletes on the boats, waving proudly and representing their countries before they had to go out on the world stage to compete. (Would they catch a cold?) I was worried but I had the best time watching the spectacle. I couldn’t wait to see everyone compete.

During the men’s and women’s swimming, I began to fully internalize the Olympic spirit. It was awe-inspiring to see Katie Ledecky and Paige Madden plod through the water in the women’s freestyle, their bodies gliding quickly through the water to the cheers of the crowd. It was insane to see Gretchen Walsh and Torri Huske sail into first and second place in their butterfly heats. The cheers of USA! USA! USA! were surprisingly exhilarating, and when the men’s 4×100-meter freestyle relay began, I felt my heart swell as their bodies struggled to enter the water in controlled arcs, gaining momentum with each jump and stroke, winning by 1.07 seconds over Australia.

While I didn’t see Team USA in gymnastics, I did see Hillary Heron stun on her floor routine, landing one of Simone Biles’ most iconic moves, the Biles 1 (5 gymnastics moves are named after Biles, seriously). As I watched these gymnasts fly through the air, land with thuds as their bodies hit the floor, and move through the routine seemingly effortlessly, I thought about my dancing and how free I felt, how it felt like an accomplishment to hit a beat and a move at exactly the right moment with exactly the right amount of power, regardless of whether anyone was watching.

At the last event, watching volleyball players Kelly Cheng and Sarah Hughes defeat their opponents and look so happy doing it – cheering each other on with high fives and nods, patting each other when something went well, jumping up and down, and hugging each other at the end when they won – I, too, was filled with joy. It reminded me that while we are not all athletes, we are all living this shared human experience together. We are all in constant motion toward something – in our bodies, but also in our hearts and minds. I am not a competitive type, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy success. It doesn’t mean I don’t find fulfillment in progressing, making progress, or achieving goals – or that I don’t challenge myself. Resilience, determination, ambition – we all embrace these traits and work at them to get where we want to be.

Watching these Olympic athletes go above and beyond to achieve some of their biggest dreams was not only inspiring, but also educational – in terms of how I see myself, how I think about what I do and what I can do in the future. Athletes are incredibly gifted, but so can we all be.

Samantha Leal is a lifestyle writer, editor, and editorial consultant who writes about beauty, wellness, travel, drinks, and more—basically all the finer things in life. She has served as an editor at The Knot, Latina Magazine, Marie Claire, and Well+Good, and has written for PS, Bustle, Vogue, Teen Vogue, Glamour, Travel + Leisure, Byrdie, StyleCaster, The Zoe Report, and more.