Breadth is not a free lunch, and a manifesto that pretended otherwise would not be worth reading. So here is the bill, named plainly: you will never be the best on Earth at the one thing. That title belongs to the specialist who went all the way down, and it is theirs to keep.
This is a real cost, not a rhetorical flourish. You traded the gold medal in a single event for a ticket to all of them — and a ticket to all of them is not a podium in any of them. The arithmetic is honest only if you let it sting.
But the trade was made clear-eyed, and there is no resentment in it. We would make it again tomorrow. To pay the bill gladly is itself a kind of vow: you do not get to want both prizes.