Adidas: Everyday Champions

didem tereyagoglu
Jul 11, 2025
6 min read

When survival begins to resemble a sport.

Every day, as I walk through the city, I observe people's movements — swift, attentive, tired, rain-soaked, or quiet. Most wouldn’t notice, but I do, perhaps because I am one of them. Are you with us? So, listen up!

These individuals are more than faces in the crowd. They are champions — even if they would never describe themselves that way.

There’s the nurse, lifting the heavy bed to reposition a patient, gently shifting their weight for comfort. Her back braces, muscles tense like a powerlifter’s. But her hands tremble. She’s deep into her third straight shift. No sleep. No breaks. Just nonstop care — wound dressings, IV checks, quiet words of reassurance. Her body is running on empty, but her focus never wavers. No one’s watching. She doesn’t need them to. She keeps moving.

The man is running through an early morning downpour as if he’s in a final sprint toward a finish line in the heavy rain. But he’s not chasing medals; he's chasing time. He might be late for a job interview or doesn’t have fare for another train. So, he had no choice but to catch the train.

There’s the delivery rider weaving through traffic like a road-race champion — but his goal is a hot meal dropped off on time. This is his second job. Sweat clings to the inside of his hoodie, hood half-damp from the night air. Slung across his back is a red, bulky delivery bag, bouncing with every turn. Earlier, while the kitchen prepared the order — four minutes, no more — he stayed on the bike, head tilted forward, eyes closed, barely breathing. That was all the rest he’d get. Now, he adjusts his cap, rechecks the address, and pedals hard because being late isn’t an option. And rent doesn’t wait.

In the quiet of the classroom, she stands by the whiteboard, her eyes a little weary but still bright with dedication. She’s been here through back-to-back classes, sharing her knowledge, and her passion for teaching never fades, even if her energy does. Then, in a split second, she notices one of her students stumbling, their backpack caught on the corner of a desk. Without a second thought, she moves like a seasoned athlete, a former volleyball player whose instincts kick in. She dives forward, arms outstretched, with the same determination she brings to everything she does. It’s not just about teaching; it’s about protecting, caring, and showing up every day.

And then there’s her — the powerhouse of the warehouse. In the quiet hours when most of the world is asleep, she’s still at it. This woman — strong, resilient, unstoppable — doesn’t need a spotlight to prove her strength. Her gym is the warehouse floor, and her weights are the heavy boxes she lifts and moves with the precision of a champion. She’s got that unwavering determination in her eyes, even after hours of work. There’s no audience, no applause, just her and the task at hand. And in those moments, she’s as much a champion as any athlete on a podium.

This campaign began with a simple observation: when survival starts to look like sport, the lines between athlete and everyday hero begin to blur. A nurse’s deadlift becomes care. A sprinter’s drive becomes a race to catch the train. A cyclist’s speed becomes food delivered hot. A warehouse lift becomes part of the global engine. These aren’t metaphors — they’re movements. Real ones. Daily ones. And for those who make them, endurance isn’t a performance. It’s how they get through.

Strength doesn’t only live in arenas. It appears in hospital rooms, on rain-slicked streets, and subway steps, with aching legs. It stays late in classrooms and shows up early in warehouses. It’s quiet. Unseen. But it’s there — every single day.

This isn’t about redefining what it means to be a champion.

It’s about seeing the ones who already are. Because when you’ve been doing the impossible all along, maybe “impossible” was never the limit. With Adidas, I wanted to say to the everyday champions: We see you. Impossible is nothing. You got this!

Labor Day is right around the corner. What if, this year, we did more than rest?

What if we used it to recognize the nurses, the night-shift workers, the teachers, the couriers — the ones who move not for glory, but for survival, for others, for love? They’re not in stadiums. They’re not on podiums. But they are champions — every single day. With Adidas, we have the chance to celebrate them. Not with applause.But with visibility. With honor. With truth.

So… what if we said? They got this. We got this.

“Like he’s chasing a finish line…”

Adidas: Everyday Champions

Title: Adidas: Everyday Champions

Duration: 60–75 seconds

Format: Hero Film

Style: Poetic realism. Sportification of survival.

Music: Minimal, cinematic, slow emotional build

Sound Design: Rain, footsteps, breath, distant traffic, classroom murmur, soft mechanical hums

[00:00 – 00:05]

Visual: Extreme close-up. A young Asian nurse’s hands grip the metal bed rails of a hospital stretcher. Muscles tense. Light hits her arms like a gym spotlight. It feels like a deadlift.

VO: “She lifts without question. That’s not effort — that’s instinct.”

[00:06 – 00:10]

Visual: Zoom out. The nurse, her hair in a tight bun, Adidas Stan Smiths planted, adjusts the weight of a patient nearly twice her size. She’s been on shift all night. Eyes focused, jaw tight. She braces her body, not for glory, but to ease pain.

VO: “Strength isn’t loud. Sometimes it’s just knowing exactly where to hold on.”

[00:11 – 00:14]

Visual: Low-angle tracking shot. A man runs through puddles in a soaked black Adidas raincoat. Feet slap against the pavement like a sprinter.

VO: “He runs like it matters. Because it does.”

[00:15 – 00:18]

Visual: Side shot. The same man darts across the crosswalk as the red hand flashes. For a moment, he looks like he’s about to cross a finish line.

VO: “Not chasing time — carrying purpose.”

[00:19 – 00:22]

Visual: Zoom out. He enters a station, panting. Unzips his coat to reveal a crumpled shirt and tie. This isn’t race day — it’s interview day.

VO: “Sometimes, the hardest thing isn’t the run — it’s showing up ready.”

[00:23 – 00:26]

Visual: A South Asian cyclist in a dark green Adidas hoodie rides aggressively through traffic. The delivery bag is secure. Head low. Momentum sharp. He leans like he’s in the Tour de France.

VO: “He moves like a racer — not for speed, but for the space to breathe.”

[00:27 – 00:30]

Visual: Zoom out. The same delivery rider checks his phone screen for the following address. He wipes sweat from his temple. This is his second job today. He got four minutes of prep time at the restaurant — enough to close his eyes and rest.

VO: “Two jobs. No breaks. Still upright. Still rolling.”

[00:31 – 00:34]

Visual: A white woman teacher in her late 30s, wearing round glasses and a ponytail, stands in front of a whiteboard during a mid-lesson. She wears a dark green cardigan, a navy Adidas tee, and a beige skirt. Her shoulders are slumped from two long classes. Her eyes shine. Her students listen.

VO: “She holds the room together — not by title, but by trust.”

[00:35 – 00:38]

Visual: Same classroom, later. Freeze-frame mid-dive. The teacher lunges forward like a volleyball player. A student’s backpack has caught on the table corner — the child is about to fall. She reacts in an instant. Athletic. Protective.

VO: “Her strength isn’t loud. But it’s there. In the timing. In the care.”

[00:39 – 00:43]

Visual: A Black woman in her 40s stands alone in a dim warehouse. Her grey Adidas shirt clings with sweat; her shaved head glistens under the fluorescent light. She lifts a heavy, dust-covered box onto a high shelf — no forklift, no backup. Just her. This job usually falls to men, but tonight, she’s the reason the supply chain keeps moving.

VO: “She lifts what keeps the world moving. No cheer. No break. Just built-in power.”

[00:44 – 00:50] Final

Visual: Wide cinematic shot. Each character — the nurse, the job seeker, the courier, the teacher, and the warehouse worker — is now walking forward on separate streets. They’re not running. Not struggling. Just moving — steady, grounded, present. It’s morning now.