Olympics

Today I am grateful for the Olympics.  And I’m exhausted. . .from watching.  Apparently I can’t just sit back, sipping a cup of tea and enjoy the competition.

We were watching the trial runs for both the women’s and men’s Snowboard Cross.  The trials had only one person on the slope so I could handle that.  Then the actual event had all five barreling down an ice hill, flying over bumps and lumps, weaving through sharp turns and soaring over the Kremlin wall.  Are you kidding me?  I pulled a hamstring just watching.

I’m starting to take umbrage with the line, “If you want anything badly enough, you can do it.”  Really?  Does that mean I will become an Ice Dancer and have Derek Hough choreograph my Gold Medal winning program?  I love ice dancing.  I love Derek.  I see myself out there, gliding across the ice in my skimpy, flouncy, sequin skirt,  skinny and in shape, spinning my spins and being lifted high over the head of my gorgeous partner as he flips and twists me into contortions I’ve only found myself in when I’ve fallen off a curb.  I see it.  I dream it.  I feel the cool breeze on my face.  I hear my blades scraping along the ice.  From my couch.  Metaphorically. I honestly don’t think it will ever happen. . .anymore.  I probably don’t want it badly enough.

About the only event I’ll ever come close to accomplishing is Curling.  I have a Swiffer!  I’m going for the Olympic Gold on my kitchen floor.