Greek stadiums: we celebrated body, mind and soul like Olympic champions

Pretending we´d won an Olympic event, Bill and I stood on the first-place podium in Athens´ Panathenaic Stadium, and I mentally relived my high school athletic glory days.

My sports were gymnastics, and track and field – specifically, the uneven bars and high jump, although I also won a few ribbons for the hurdles and 4×200 relay. Those are my favourite Olympic events. Although I enjoy the opening and closing Olympic ceremonies, I had always considered their music, dance and theatrics as fluffy extras, unconnected to the sports.

Until, that is, we spent three weeks in Greece with our friends Kathleen and Arthur and explored four ancient stadiums. All hosted ancient athletics, but the games were not just about physical prowess. Stadiums came with temples and theatres because the events celebrated the whole package – a healthy body, mind and soul. (If you were male, of course. Despite goddess worship, priestesses and the seemingly all-powerful Oracle of Delphi, women couldn´t enter these stadiums, never mind compete.) 

Each is known for a differing aspect: Panathenaic for the first modern Olympics; Delphi for the Oracle; Olympia for the first Olympics ever, and Epidaurus for its theatre and medicine.

Panathenaic Stadium, Athens

The well-done audioguide at the Panathenaic Stadium told me that the word “stadium” was a measure of 192 metres, the length of Olympia´s stadium where the Olympics were born.   

The ancient Panathenaic Stadium dates to 330 BCE, but it´s most famous as the site of the modern Olympics, reborn in 1896.

We climbed steep rows of stone seats, admired the view of the Acropolis, sat on carved thrones reserved for royalty, imagined roaring crowds doing the wave, and examined the five Olympic rings set above the stadium´s curved end. Called a sphendone, the curved end was added by the Romans, when they ruled Greece and rebuilt the stadium in white marble.

Along with athletic competitions, all ancient games included religious rituals to honour the gods. In Athens, citizens paraded to the Acropolis, offered sacrifices to Athena, and dressed her statue in a new robe. The games also included music and poetry contests, for example, reciting Homeric poems to flute music. “Athens Got Talent,” anybody?

The high priestess used this (replica) concave mirror to concentrate the sun´s rays to light the Olympic Flame atop the altar (right), before its journey by torch to the host city.

We learned some terminology. “Panathenaic” meant people from Athens while “panhellenic” meant people from all Greek city-states. The four panhellenic games were in Delphi, Olympia, Nemea and Corinth. And “people” meant free Greek men; not women or slaves.

Ultimately, the religious nature of these events led to their downfall. After the Romans took over Greece and then adopted Christianity, emperor Theodosius banned all cults of the gods in 394 AD. All the ancient stadiums fell to ruin. People pilfered marble slabs to use in other buildings. Earthquakes, mudslides and time did the rest.

Fast forward to the late 1800s. Pierrre de Coubertin, responsible for reviving the Olympics in 1896, wanted athletics to balance body and mind, and for the games to contribute to a peaceful and better world, by bringing together people from everywhere. Critics denounced this as a utopian dream (and what else could it have been, since women still weren´t included. Their Olympic debut came in 1900 when 22 women competed in sailing, golf, tennis, and croquet.)

The Panathenaic museum displayed many torches, including three from Canadian Olympic Games: Vancouver 2010 (far left), Calgary 1988 (centre), and Montreal 1976.

However, de Coubertin´s dream went ahead. The Panathenaic Stadium, which had been rediscovered by archeologists, was restored and hosted 70,000 spectators who watched 311 athletes from 13 countries compete.

The stadium is still used for dozens of sports competitions, theatrical performances, and music festivals – right back to the way it was. It´s also part of the modern Olympic torch ceremony. The flame is lit in Olympia, relayed by runners to the Panathenaic, then transferred to host country representatives who take it to their country.

Imagine thousands of Greek spectators, mad with joy, in the Panathenaic Stadium in 1896 when homeboy Spyros Louis won the marathon.

The first Olympic games, held in 776 BCE, consisted of one event – a 192-metre sprint down the length of Olympia´s stadium. I was determined to recreate my athletic glory days by doing the same.

Arthur wanted to race me from the Panathenaic´s starting line. But I wasn´t mentally ready yet. I probably had just one race in my aging body, so better to save it for the Olympics´ birthplace.

“I´m waiting for Olympia,” I said.

Delphi

Delphi´s theatre is above the Temple of Apollo (with a few columns still erect). Music, dance, theatre and other artistic contests outshone the athletic events.

“Prophecies R Us” could be Delphi´s tagline.

Like most visitors, we came to witness where the all-powerful Oracle of Delphi had dispensed advice about love lives, when to plant fields, and winning races, elections, and wars.

Ancient Delphi´s stadium, theatre, temples and treasuries cling dramatically to Mount Parnassus. Delphi wasn´t a town (then), but rather a religious sanctuary dedicated to the god Apollo. The Oracle passed on messages from Apollo to pilgrims who came from all over Europe.

“Up here, they were feeling close to the gods,” said Georgia, our private guide from Olympia Guides. “It´s high.”

No kidding. From the entrance up through the archeological site to the stadium, you climb 700 feet towards the gods.

The Treasury of the Athenians is the best-preserved of these mini-temples erected by cities to house treasures brought by pilgrims as offerings to Apollo.  

As god of the sun, music, and prophecies, Apollo was the god of note here.

Apollo killed the Python, a huge snake, that was guarding the Kastalian Spring. To honour that victory, people gathered as early as 582 BCE (and possibly earlier) for the Pythian Games.

When I hear “games” I think athletics. But, like other ancient games, the Pythian Games had begun as a music, dance and art contest dedicated to Apollo. Hence the large theatre built into the mountainside. The athletic and equestrian games came later, but even then, the arts predominated. Hard to imagine!

But the Oracle overshadowed all.

Aka the Pythia, the Oracle was well established by the 8^th century BCE, although she might have been around as early as 1400 BCE. At first, she was always a virgin, but later, the Oracle was an “elderly” woman of about 50 years of age (!).

The Oracle purified herself in the Kastalian Spring, then sat in the Temple of Apollo on a tripod over a crack that emitted gases – methane, ethane and ethylene, which can anesthetize. (The area is prone to earthquakes and several fault lines run through the ancient site.) Chewing on laurel leaves and breathing gases, the Oracle became entranced, shouting and spewing gibberish that was the word of Apollo. The male priests translated her words into ambiguous prophecies, hundreds of which have survived. For example, “If you cross a river, an empire will be destroyed.” A dude named Chrissos took that to mean he could defeat the Persians, but he was destroyed. 

Behind us are the speckled grey (limestone) and orange (bauxite) stones of Mount Parnassus, overlooking the theatre seats (left) and the Temple of Apollo with six reassembled columns.

Those pilgrims included some famous men: Alexander the Great, Socrates, King Midas, Roman Emperor Nero, and Plutarch.

Many interpret all this to mean the Oracle possessed power. She spoke the words of Apollo, after all. But I just don´t buy it. I stand to be corrected but, to me, it sounded like she was controlled by the priests, who may or may not have ensured she was drugged, and then mansplained her messages. The Oracle and other priestesses were there for show, for ceremonies – not the real stuff going on. Just like now, many people attended the games for political manoeuvring, to broker business deals, see and be seen, gladhand, make connections.

However, that day my cynicism hadn´t taken hold; I simply enjoyed the setting and all those stone reminders of history´s immensity.

People from the island of Naxos offered the colossal Sphinx of Naxos (left) to Apollo, which we saw in the excellent museum. The omphalos that looks like a pinecone (centre) sat next to the Oracle in the Temple of Apollo. The plain grey omphalos (right) is a modern copy.

As Georgia led us steadily upwards, from the agora (market where people sold offerings to Apollo, such as statues and goats) up along the Sacred Way, we saw the treasury houses where donations were stored, bases of statues that had been stolen, inscriptions on the only original section of a retaining wall, and the Temple of Apollo.

Not much is left, of course. A ramp leads up to the remaining temple floor. Six columns were reassembled from the tumbled stones lying about. Two previous temples had stood here; we saw the ruins of the “new” temple, inaugurated in 330 BCE. Inscribed near the entrance had been wise maxims such as “Know yourself” and “Never tire of learning.” 

Delphi was understood to be the centre of the world, ever since Zeus had released two eagles to fly in opposite directions around the earth. They met again at Delphi, hence it´s the “navel” of the world. The omphalos marked the spot.

The statue of Antinoos (left), a beautiful young “companion” of Roman Emperor Hadrian, was discovered in good shape because it had been coated with a special oil. The Bronze Charioteer, which had been part of a larger sculpture with four horses and a chariot, is also in remarkable condition.

We needed our imaginations because much of the site is, still, piles of tumbled stone. Over the centuries, locals had built a town atop the site. When archeological excavations began in 1892, the town was moved 500 metres to where it is now, and some structures were restored.

Although stone slabs sound boring, we got excited when Georgia explained their significance.

Kathleen was taken with the hundreds of carved inscriptions, now valuable as a written record of what happened here. They even helped restorers match the slabs like a giant jigsaw puzzle.

“We were here and gave these bronze statues,” was essentially what they meant, Georgia said.

“Once you notice them, they´re everywhere,” Kathleen said.

The seams in the polygonal wall are extraordinarily tight. Six columns form one corner of the Temple of Apollo.

Arthur and Bill, both engineers, closely examined the so-called polygonal wall, a retaining wall below the Temple of Apollo. With no mortar, the wall´s tightly fitting stones haven´t moved over the millennia, despite earthquakes, time and frost. The slaves who built it in the 6^th century BCE knew their stuff. The wall displays about 800 inscriptions.

“The craftsmanship, the engineering, of fitting those rocks together,” said Arthur. “And they haven´t moved. They´ve lasted all this time.”

Hundreds of stone inscriptions help archeologists and historians figure out what happened in ancient Delphi. A slab with holes once held the Oracle´s tripod seat; the entrancing vapours rose through the larger hole.

For me, the most thrilling slab came from the Temple of Apollo. Holes showed where the Oracle´s tripod had been placed, right next to a larger hole that had emitted those entrancing vapours.

We continued the climb upwards to the theatre, where 5,000 spectators at a time had watched the music, poetry and dance competitions – including hymns to honour Apollo – and the opening and closing ceremonies of the Pythian Games.

Then up to the stadium – the highest point of the archeological site. Second only to the Olympic Games, the Pythian Games had also been held every four years.

Delphi´s stadium held 7,000 spectators. The stone starting lines, one at each end, are still there.

At first, spectators sat on the ground, but Herodes Atticus later had the marble seats built. Judges got backrests. About 18 runners competed at a time, running various lengths (called stades) of the stadium.

I, however, could not win a Pythian laurel wreath because visitors are no longer allowed in that stadium. Phew! My left knee caused me grief that day anyhow.

We made our way back down the mountain to the entrance. Along the road, we saw three additional (free) places that had been part of the ancient Sanctuary of Apollo.

A stone fountain released water from the Kastalian Spring, the spot where Apolla slew the Python. The Oracle, priests, athletes, and pilgrims all purified themselves there before approaching the temple. Kathleen, Bill and I watched Arthur bravely drink from it; he didn´t get sick!

Unfortunately, the Sanctuary of Athena Pronea – the most-photographed Delphi sight – was closed for renovation when we visited in April 2025 (due to re-open “soon”). But we caught glimpses of its famous three columns from afar. Pilgrims often stopped there to worship Athena before going on to see the Oracle.

From the road, we looked down on the gymnasium, closed to the public now. Athletes trained in the complex of running tracks, baths, change rooms, ball court, and palaestra (for wrestling and boxing).   

Olympia

Athletes used to enter Olympia´s stadium through a long tunnel – a tradition still seen today at football stadiums and other athletic venues. Athletes that we are, Arthur and Kathleen (in blue), and Bill and I continued the tradition.

Ah, Olympia! Birthplace of the Olympics and my impending showdown with Arthur in the stadium.

We were all excited to set foot on this ancient site, this mecca, officially known as the Sanctuary of Zeus. He was the main god, although his wife, Hera, was worshipped there earlier. Indeed, we learned much about women´s participation (such as it was) in the games, including the first female Olympic winner.

But first, we met with our private guide, Niki of Olympia Guides, who led us on a lively tour through the gymnasium training areas, palaestra, baths, hostels, Temple of Hera, treasuries, the Sacred Way, and the Temple of Zeus. We recognized the common elements of these ancient places.

When he discovered we were Canadians, our friendly innkeeper George (left), of Pension Posidon, showed us photos and certificates from 1976 when he carried a torch for the Montreal Olympics. Later, I received an olive wreath crown, just like an Olympic champion.

The site – flat compared with Delphi – had been buried in mud, which saved it from the extensive looting suffered by other places, such as the Acropolis.

“Mud is the best friend of archeologists,” said Niki.

The first major excavations began in 1875, inspiring the modern Olympics. Like de Coubertin, who wanted the games to inspire peace, the first ancient Olympic organizers proposed the games as a way to stop the constantly warring Greek city states to take a pause and lay down their weapons.

For 1,169 years (from 776 BCE until 393 AD), the Olympic games were held every four years in July-August, depending on the moon, because most wars were fought between planting and harvest. The important Sacred Truce gave contestants time to train, get to the games, and get home.

The games grew from a one-day event – the footrace – to 13 events held over five days.

“Imagine, 45,000 people were camping in this valley,” said Niki. “It was like Woodstock.”

Stones from the Temple of Zeus lay where earthquakes in 522 and 551 AD left them. One lonely column was reconstructed for the 2004 Olympics.

Inside the massive Temple of Zeus had sat a gigantic gold-and-ivory statue of the god, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. Pheidias, its famous sculptor, had a nearby workshop that was tall enough to house the sculpture while he worked on it.  Some other facts we learned:

• The pankration was a vicious combination of wrestling and boxing. Except for gouging eyes and biting, everything else was allowed, including choking.
• Modern Olympic inventions include the marathon (1896) and torch relay (1936).
• Only first-place winners received prizes; nothing for second or third except the honour of competing. Winners received olive wreaths, free food for life and statues. “We would still know what they looked like if the statues had not been stolen or melted,” said Niki.
• Athletes competed naked, coated in olive oil, to which the sand stuck. “This was their SPF 50,” said Niki. Afterwards, they used a spatula to scrape it off and sell it in jars. “It´s all a matter of marketing.”

Near the Temple of Zeus, we saw the pedestal for Nike, but the statue itself (left) is in the excellent Archeological Museum. The discus athlete (centre, plaster copy) dates to 450 BCE. Hermes of Praxiteles (right) rests against a tree trunk, in all his beautifully shaped, graceful glory.

Who is who in this photo of Arthur, Bill, and a six-pack torso of Emperor Augustus, carved to look like Zeus?

During a religious ceremony in the Bouleuterion chamber, athletes stepped on castrated bulls´ testicles and swore a sacred oath not to cheat. However, many did.

As we approached the stadium, we passed 16 stone bases that had supported bronze statues of Zeus. Called the Bases of Zanes (plural of Zeus), they were erected using the fines collected from athletes who had cheated, such as accepting bribes, using forbidden herbs, or drinking animal blood (like ancient steroids). Inscriptions named the cheaters and offences. All athletes entering the stadium passed by these statues – a reminder of the bad publicity that came with cheating. Talk about public shaming.

Up to 45,000 spectators in Olympia´s stadium sat on the grassy hills. Only judges (note stone rectangle on the far side) and the priestess had seats.

Kathleen and I committed an action that had been punishable by death: entering the stadium. Not only could women not compete, but they couldn´t even enter the stadium to watch. The only exception was one priestess who sat on an altar across from the judges.

Niki told us about a woman named Kallipateira of Rhodes. In 396 BCE, she dressed like a man and entered to watch her son compete in the boxing event. She was caught, but because of her family´s illustrious athletic record, she was not killed. Others were.

Women did have their own separate competition: the Heraia Games, held to honour Hera in off years from the Olympics.

Girls, adolescents, and young women (all virgins) ran 160 metres – shorter than the men´s race – with their hair untied, wearing a short dress that bared their right shoulder and breast. Winners received an olive wreath and part of the cow sacrificed in Hera´s honour.

That was certainly better than nothing but, let´s face it, the Heraia Games did not receive the same attention as the main Olympics. Much like many women´s events and the Paralympics now.

A bronze statuette of a girl running, from mid-6^th century BCE, shows well-developed leg muscles. The mysterious hammered-bronze winged female, with inlaid bone eyes, looks a lot like running girl. 

However, the story of Kyniska was encouraging. Daughter of Spartan King Archidamos, Kyniska was the first female to win at the main Olympics – not the Heraia. She bred and trained horses, then hired a charioteer to compete in the four-horse chariot race, since she couldn´t officially compete herself. Her team won, and she was proclaimed the Olympic champion for that event.

Kyniska couldn´t have been shy. She commissioned a bronze statue of herself and placed it prominently near the entrance to the Temple of Zeus. The inscription reads (in part): “I, Kyniska, victorious with a chariot of swift-footed horses, have erected this statue. I declare myself the only woman in all Hellas [Greece] to have won this crown.”

Kyniska, whose horses twice won the four-horse chariot race, was commemorated with a statue that stood on a stone base (right).

That was in 396 BCE, and she won the same event again in 392 BCE. Imagine how much she must have inspired Greek women!

In a way, it´s not surprising she won. Kyniska was a Spartan. From age seven, Spartan girls were encouraged to train and compete athletically in wrestling and combat sports, running, discus, javelin, dance and gymnastics.

Other Greek city-states looked askance, proclaiming it morally indecent, but the Spartans believed strong women would endure childbirth better and raise stronger men.

Arthur and I lined up for our race. My toe is over the line, perhaps explaining how I won…

In a far less inspirational event, Arthur and I finally lined up for our much-anticipated showdown.

Fully clothed but not wearing armour, we placed the toes of our shoes on the stone starting line, the same line where ancient naked Olympians had tucked their bare toes into the grooves to await the signal.

“On your mark,” called Kathleen. “Get set. GO!” And we were off, stumbling down the Olympic stadium towards Bill, who shot video and became the de facto finish line, since we doubted we could make it to the far end. 

Enthusiastic shopkeeper Nontas Galanis crowned us with olive wreaths and let us hold real Olympic torches.

I won!

I even received an olive wreath crown! Later, in the town of Olympia, enthusiastic shopkeeper Nontas Galanis, who runs Apollo Jewellery, crowned us in olive leaves and proudly showed us his torch collection. Like George, he had also carried a Montreal Olympics torch. We suspected many locals have carried them over the years.

Apart from the archeological site and its treasure-rich museum, we visited two other worthwhile Olympia museums.

When Spyros Louis won the 1896 marathon, he received a ceramic cup decorated with black running figures dating from 540-520 BCE. I met Spyros in the Museum of the History of the Olympic Games in Antiquity.

In the Archimedes Museum, on Olympia´s main street, we learned about the hysplex, a wooden starting gate used in ancient games to prevent false starts.

The Museum of the History of the Olympic Games in Antiquity offered information about women athletes, how the games had been organized, descriptions of the games held at Nemea and Corinth (places we didn´t have time to visit), and explanations of ancient events, including races that required runners to wear full armour.

Our friendly innkeeper George (boy on the right) took part in a torch-lighting ceremony along with women dressed as priestesses.  

In 2004, the Olympic Games returned to Olympia 2,780 years after their birth. Some 20,000 spectators – including Niki – sat on the stadium´s sloping sides and watched one event – shot put.

“I had goosebumps,” she said. Seeing athletes competing in the very place where the Olympics had begun was powerful. “The vibes were incredible.”   

Epidaurus

From the 55^th row, performers on Epidaurus’s stage looked tiny.

When we arrived at the Epidaurus (aka Epidavros) archeological site, we made a beeline for the famous theatre, described by UNESCO as the “the most perfect theatral structure of antiquity” because of its exceptional acoustics. Built to seat 13,000 to 15,000 spectators, the theatre draws visitors who often overlook the stadium, museum, healing centre and the rest of the ancient site.  

Entering at stage level, we just stood and gawked at first, overwhelmed by the iconic sight. Seats radiated upwards quite steeply in wedges. Visitors took turns standing at the very centre of the circular stage to clap or whoop or sing a line or two to see for themselves how easily their sounds carried to their friends in the 55^th row at the top.   

A combination of design elements ensured the magnificent acoustics: the semicircular seating layout, the height difference between tiers, the smooth circular stage area, and the tall building that would have stood behind the stage (like a backdrop), UNESCO said.

The plays, songs, history recitations, and poetry contests held there were part of religious worship and, interestingly, part of the healing process that Epidaurus was also known for. Asklepios, son of Apollo, was the god of note because he healed people.

It´s a breathtaking climb (literally) to the top of the theatre seats. Kathleen stood centre stage and clapped to test the exceptional acoustics.

I decided to throw shyness to the wind. I stepped to centre stage (where an altar to Dionysus, god of wine and theatre, once stood) and read from the famous Greek play Antigone, by Sophocles. (Rick Steves thoughtfully provided some potential passages for his travel guide readers.)

It´s said that a whisper carries to the back row. But I managed to disprove that theory. Kathleen couldn´t hear me in the top row. The reality is I am not a performer and probably spoke too quietly to be heard above all the other visitors talking. I decided to rest on my winning Olympia-race laurels.

The 6,000-seat stadium at Epidaurus is often overlooked by visitors who flock to the theatre.

After the theatre, we wandered amongst fields sprinkled with poppies and toppled stone slabs. Information panels told us they had been hostels for patients and families, baths complexes, a banquet hall, gymnasium, and various temples.

Epidaurus´ humble stadium also hosted athletic games every four years, in conjunction with arts contests in the theatre, to honour the god Asklepios, son of Apollo.

We recognized the by-now-familiar rectangular track, and stone start and finish lines with shallow grooves. Stone seats were added in 4^th-century BCE, but excavations revealed there had been earlier seats made from fieldstones and clay.

The Temple of Asklepios had housed an enormous gold-and-ivory statue of the god (depicted on an Epidaurus coin, left) seated on a throne, with his left hand on a staff and his right on a snake. Many statuettes of Asklepios (right) showed how the staff-and-snake image later morphed into today´s medical symbol.

The purpose of Epidaurus came together, for me, in the small museum, where we learned about Asklepios´ famous cures that drew people from all over the ancient world. Inscriptions on stone slabs thanked the god of medicine for miraculous cures from indigestion, deafness, and other ailments. For example, one man described his entire indigestion cure, which included diet, “natural therapeutic substances,” running, walking, study in the sanctuary´s library, and moisturizing with wine to smooth his skin.

“In addition to the miraculous cures performed by the god, however, the Sanctuary of Epidaurus was also a place where real medicine was practiced,” said an info panel. Bronze medical tools, found during excavations, filled two display cases.

This was part of the body, mind, and soul trifecta, with the emphasis on how healing and the arts are part of the whole.

Relief sculptures in the Abaton showed sick people being cured.

After the museum, the Abaton building made sense. That´s where patients experienced their cures. What a process! Supplicants first washed with water from a special well, then slept on the beaten earth, waiting for Asklepios to visit them in their dreams.

“The sleep symbolized the death of their ill self and Asklepios, who visited them in the dream, bestowed them new healthy life,” explained an info panel. Relief sculptures in the Abaton depicted several miraculous cures:

• A woman came to appeal for children. In her dream, “a handsome boy lifted up her dress, and after that the god touched her belly with his hand.” Ta da! She became pregnant by her husband and had a baby boy. Call me a skeptic, but… 
• A man with a wound on his toe dreamt that a serpent licked his toe, although when he awoke he said a handsome youth had cured him.

I got the sense that, to the ancients, the temple and healing powers of Asklepios were likely more important than the theatre or stadium.

I laid down on a stone bench and tried to dream of Asklepios healing my sore knee.

Visiting these four ancient sites gave me a deeper understanding about the roots and traditions of our Olympic Games: the four-year cycle, parades of athletes, concerns with cheating, sponsorships by governments and wealthy citizens, and especially why the host city shows off its best in arts and cultural traditions. Dance, music, poetry, history, and theatrics were there right from the start.

Religion was overt then, but I still see hints of it, especially when indigenous celebrations are included during the opening and closing ceremonies, and when athletes kiss a cross or saint medallion before an event. 

In ancient times and now, the Olympics required people to travel, thus becoming more aware of other peoples and cultures, and hopefully leading to peace.

“The more you travel, the more you realize how different and how similar people are,” said Niki from Olympia.

How true.

We visited Greece in April 2025. Find out where we are right now by visiting our ‘Where’s Kathryn?’ page.