Raise your hand if you were even slightly tempted to call in
sick to work at least one day this week to stay home and watch the Olympics. At
this very moment our living room television is featuring the women’s rugby
competition. It is downright frightening. So many hands grabbing and gripping -
and what seems like zero regulations. You know if this stuff had been going on
at the playground when these kids were younger, there’d be a whole lot of Time
Out.
This wasn’t the only sport that caught our attention during
the Games. Spouse, Second Born and I cringed through the first night’s
nerve-wracking scenes during the men’s cycling, where the leaders suddenly
found themselves careening off course, so close to the finish, ending their
Olympic ride with broken bikes, bones and hearts. The next day Second Born and
I were clutching our seats during the women’s cycling, unable to look away as
riders risked their lives riding like the wind through Rio’s mountain ranges.
In the final moments we were convinced the lead rider was at the very least
critically injured when she crashed (we learned later she was badly injured but
would be all right). The U.S. cyclist
catapulted to the front and looked sure to win. Then a small wolf pack of
adrenaline soaked competitors swept past her just as she could almost touch the
finish line. The trio took the top three spots, crushing the U.S. rider’s
dreams.
I was exhausted.
A little less exhausting but just as mesmerizing was the
synchronized diving competition. The three of us had our own version of judging
going on, tossing out comments about who was perfectly aligned and who was just
a bit off. We were sure we knew a great dive when we saw it. According to the actual
judges who – you know – do this for a living, we didn’t. As a mom, my biggest
concern was whether those suits were going to stay on. I could imagine some
poor diver’s mom closing her eyes praying for minimal exposure while she cheers
from the stands.
I had to consciously not hold my breath during the women’s
gymnastics. How did they lift their bodies up from the floor as if they were
attached to strings? I’m clutching the coffee table to pull myself up from
hours of TV viewing… unless there are M&Ms just out of reach. That would be
what I call incentive.
Did you happen to catch the freestyle swimming? The speed,
the form, the accuracy – it was all breathtaking. In fact, I look just like
that when I’m swimming at the Y. My laps are such a blur that you probably
won’t recognize me, unless I’m just warming up. Or cooling down. Or trying to
reach the other end of the pool while gasping for breath and craning my neck in
an attempt to not get water up my nose, all while only occasionally slamming
into the lap dividers and ripping the skin off various fingers and toes. Other
than that it’s a complete blur… to me at least.
I felt a little guilty about not spending more of the
weekend outside, considering most of us try to cram 52 weekends of activity
into a few short summer months. I admit I kept hoping it would rain, and not
just because we desperately need it. But witnessing history in the making
together was also rewarding and it led to some great conversations, especially
about some of the personal stories we heard during the course of the week.
We are an emotional lot. The kid and I shed a few tears
learning about the backgrounds of underdog competitors who fought back
physical, emotional and personal issues to be an Olympian. Even Spouse got
swept up in some of the more moving pieces. So many of these stories were
inspiring and uplifting. Some competitors came away with medals but all came
away with memories to last a lifetime.
From the quirky opening ceremonies to the final evening, the
Olympics are several fascinating days of competition and camaraderie. Even I am
inspired… to move the M&Ms just a little farther away.
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