The most frequently Googled question of all is “what is love?” Call me an unromantic old sports obsessive but the question that keeps me awake at night is “are champions born or made?” And in spite of meeting dozens of amazing sportsmen and women over the years, I can safely say that I haven't got a clue.

Sports scientists have their theories and explanations as to how you can have two people who are physically very similar playing the same sport, but in time one grows up to become world class and the other doesn't.

Very broadly speaking, they talk of genotype, which is to do with the genetic make-up of an individual, and phenotype, which is the characteristics determined by genotype and its environment. This explains why little, fast Michael Owen, of North Wales, whose dad was a former footballer, also became a professional footballer. If little, fast Michael had been born in Ukraine to a former gymnast mum, he may have been an Olympic gymnast.

It is under the broad umbrella of phenotype that parental influence would be a factor. As far as I can ascertain, there is not a quantifiable test that measures “perfect sports parents”, a test that tells us where support ends and pushiness starts.

Kay and Steve Adlington live in a nice road in a nice house in Mansfield, Nottinghamshire. They have three lovely blonde daughters and you will have heard of the youngest of them - Rebecca, the double Olympic gold medal-winner. There is nothing extraordinary about the Adlington household apart from the medals, which on the day we visited couldn't be found anyway.

Rebecca teases Kay that she is “mumsy”, which seems to mean that she fusses. She fusses because she is a mum, not because she is the mum of a double Olympic gold medal-winner. A few weeks after Rebecca came home from Beijing, and not yet back into the rigours of training, she was laying on the sofa watching TV and asked her Mum to get her a glass of water. “What's wrong with your legs?” was the gist of Kay's reply. She may be a fusspot but she's not stupid, Kay Adlington. To spend time in her company is a wonderful lesson in parenting and in keeping your Olympic gold medal-winner grounded, should you have one lying around at home.

Rebecca may have had to rely on her parents for funding and lifts to training, but the motivation was all hers. She had a dream and the Adlingtons did what they could to help her to realise it while keeping the family unit together. They didn't take her off to the United States and split up the family or risk their financial security and heap more pressure on her. After all, how many swimmers make a living from the sport?

There was never a guarantee that Rebecca would win gold medals in Beijing, or at any Olympic Games, but when she outgrew the facilities and coaching at the Sherwood Swimming Club, the Adlingtons took Rebecca to Nottingham.

How many kids, metaphorically speaking, don't make it to Nottingham? How many Beckys have there been along the way whose parents couldn't or wouldn't go the extra mile?

Most of us can imagine doing what the Adlingtons did for their daughter to realise her potential. But how many of us could imagine doing what Richard Williams did for his daughters? Venus and Serena Williams didn't even know that tennis was what they wanted to do; it was simply what their dad decided for them. Andre Agassi's dad, Mike, hung a tennis ball over his son's cot when he was six months old; by 3 he was playing against eight-year-olds. I have two three-year-old children but I prefer just to let them run around the garden. Am I failing them?

I hope not. I hope, as you probably do, that if your child showed aptitude and enthusiasm for a sport, you would know instinctively the right balance between encouragement and support and pushiness. If they are playing a sport such as rugby, cricket or football, you probably won't have to do much more than cheer them on and wash their kit. Coaching and talent-spotting should ensure that raw ability isn't missed. A gifted young footballer from a family that doesn't fit the perfect model of “supportive sports parents” will make it because the football “firm” will make sure he does. He is too valuable a commodity to miss.

The saddest reason I heard for a dad not encouraging his teenage son's natural talent in tennis was: “I don't want him to know the disappointment that will ultimately come his way; he will always lose in the end.” Thankfully that was not what Rebecca Adlington's parents thought, or Tom Daley's, Laura Robson's or Andy Murray's. Those families have nurtured and supported their kids differently. In the extreme case, Murray left his home country to find the right coaching.

What all of the families have in common is that they believed in their children and they allowed their children to believe in themselves. There are many other families who do the same but we never hear of their efforts because, if the genes and raw materials aren't right, the child will not make it. But thank goodness for the parents who do set the alarm for 5am and make long car journeys to competitions, who go without family holidays because they clash with training camps and whose mums do three sittings for dinner because training and family life don't always synchronise. Headlines, fame and fortune may elude them, but their children will always be richer for having sport in their lives.

And if the most Googled question is still puzzling you, how about this definition: love is driving for 30 miles on the M1 at 5.30am to drop off your daughter at swimming training, then driving her back again afterwards, every day of the week for four years. Just ask Kay and Steve Adlington.

- Rebecca Adlington is on Inside Sport, 11.20pm on Monday, BBC One.

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