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After winning gold and silver swimming medals in the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, George DiCarlo completed his UA business degree and contemplated the realities of life.

"At some point,'' he was saying Tuesday, "you've got to grow up.''

Money was not rolling in for Olympic gold medalists 24 years ago. USA Swimming offered DiCarlo a $600 monthly stipend to train for the 1988 Seoul Olympics. His lone endorsement deal was $2,500 for an Olympics paintings commercial.

"Most of us were actually forced into retirement,'' he says. "You couldn't train for the next four years, hopeful the next Olympics would be better than the last one, because you couldn't afford it.''

DiCarlo was 21 when he set an Olympic record in the 400 freestyle. His peak swimming years remained. But before the '88 Seoul Games began, he had quit swimming and started work for a Tucson mortgage firm; he later worked in a commercial real estate venture in Colorado.

Unlike the prominent medalists at the Beijing Olympics, who now compete into their 30s supported by six-figure endorsement deals and significant stipends from various USOC agencies, DiCarlo had to get a real job.

Who knows how many medals he could have won in Seoul? He would have been 25.

DiCarlo went to the University of Colorado and earned a master's degree in pharmacy. He got married and is the father of two children. He subsequently earned a doctorate from the University of Florida.

On Tuesday, DiCarlo drove past the Hillenbrand Aquatic Center, his old training grounds, on his way to the UA Cancer Center where, among other cancer facilities in the country, he has made an even bigger impact.

DiCarlo is employed by one of the world's largest pharmaceutical firms; he educates physicians in cancer-related studies and helps to conduct clinical trials in oncology.

"When I swam, nobody really was able to make a living off the sport,'' he says. "When I would go home to Denver, people would ask me how many sponsorship offers I got in Tucson. I would tell them zero. We were amateurs then. It is now so vastly different.''

The U.S. Olympic Committee now pays its gold medalists $25,000, another $15,000 for each silver and $10,000 for a bronze. The scale continues to $2,000 for an eighth-place finish. Olympians are eligible for scholarship grants, health insurance and job training.

There is no limit on what an athlete can accept from Nike or Speedo or any of the softball equipment firms.

Most Olympians are not like Michael Phelps and Dara Torres, who employed a full-time staff of seven in her buildup to Beijing.

For most Olympians, there is no financial payoff.

Former UA volleyball All-American Caren Kemner, who was probably the world's leading female volleyball player in the late '80s and early '90s, is now an assistant coach at Quincy (Ill.) University, a Division II school in her hometown.

Beth Botsford, an 11-time All-American at Arizona and 1996 gold medalist in the backstroke, works at a medical spa in Dana Point, Calif.

Lovie Jung, a UA grad who was the starting second baseman on the 2004 and 2008 Olympic softball teams, hopes to find work as a firefighter in Southern California. On her Olympic blog, she wrote how exciting it was to "finally pay off my truck.''

Once NBC sends its cameras back across the ocean, most of the Olympians return to reality.

This is reality: In 1996, 2000 and 2004, Sierra Vista's Adam Saathoff was one of the world's leading running target shooters. He finished seventh at the Athens Olympics, at which time the International Olympic Committee eliminated running target shooting from future competitions.

But Saathoff was prepared. He had begun work as an EMT firefighter in Sierra Vista, making a smooth re-entry into life after 15 years traveling the world for shooting competitions.

Saathoff is an avid outdoorsman who had spent considerable time with his father, Bill, a retired Cochise College official who became a hunting guide and a taxidermist. Now they could spend more time together.

Adam Saathoff retired from Olympic competition with a sense of fulfillment. He did not get rich — he even drove a UPS truck while training for the Olympics — but he performed ably and, besides, how can you beat all of those Olympic memories?

Last week, while watching some Olympics action from China, Saathoff learned that his father had been killed in a plane crash in the White Mountains. Bill Saathoff was only 58.

A celebration of his life is scheduled for Thursday in Sierra Vista.

Whether you are George DiCarlo, helping to save lives in cancer research, or Adam Saathoff, a firefighter trained to save lives, the participants soon learn that the Olympic Games are temporary.

How you deal with life after the Olympics is what matters most.