Oh look, it’s time for me to grab a couple Oreos, put my feet up, and watch unbelievably remarkable feats of athleticism on TV. Gotta love the Olympics. After the first five minutes, my guilt about curling up comfy & cozy under a blanket while those crazy people risk life and limb to prove they are the best, fades… after all, we each make our own choices, right? And, let’s face it, those athletes are not normal people. They are, with all due respect, freaks of nature.
Oh, sure, those cute ads during the commercial breaks about “you can make your dreams come true if you drink milk” tug at the heart strings, and “if you believe in it, you can make it happen” is motivational. But I’m sorry, these athletes are not like the rest of us. I mean, really… with each Olympics, the bar of amazement and perfection raises higher. The competitors are in a level of peak physical condition the majority of us will never even get close to experiencing or working hard enough to reach. Beyond that, these people have seemingly no fear — only drive, passion and a ridiculous amount of energy. Even more incredible is the number of them who have come back after accidents, injuries and trauma to do it all over again. “Yeah, ok, so I’ve torn my ACL three times, but what the heck, I feel better now, so let me go speeding down that mountain again.” While the rest of us mere mortals would be all “Nah, I’m good, I’ve got a nice spot on the couch.”
I’ve noticed something else this year too. They are all beautiful. Come ON. Just look at these people:
and of course, there’s this guy:
As if all that isn’t enough, for the most part they all seem to be really nice. In interviews and in comments before and after their events, they all seem excited, grateful and although confident, not snobby. They are tweeting cute and funny things about being hangry. Oh, I’m sure there are a few tremendous ego’s among them. Can we blame them? How could you NOT develop an ego when you are young, gorgeous, a world-class athlete, with lucrative offers of sponsorships and celebrity endorsements being offered, and – oh yes, you may just be one of the tiny fraction of the population who happens to have a large gold medal hanging around your neck.
So here the rest of us sit, watching these athlete superhero’s cavort around on mountains, ice and in the air, making us feel even more normal and regular and… well, real than ever. A couple of years ago, during the summer Olympics, I posted some thoughts about some activities that I thought we RW’s excel in on a regular basis that could be our own Olympic events. Once again, now as I watch Chloe Kim fly 10 feet in the air on her snowboard, and Mirai Nagasu land a nearly impossible spinning jump while on skates, I ponder our great successes.
What if medals were awarded for events like the Multiple Grocery Bag Carry as we struggle with bringing bags in from the car, or the Kitchen Speed Clean after dinner? How about the Balance and Agility Course between laundry area and bedroom? Then there’s the Mind Like A Steel Trap trials as R.W.’s everywhere remember birthdays, school permission slips and what to thaw for dinner all while tracking deadlines at work. The follow up event to that is the Multiple Pet or Child Household Feeding Program. And my favorite, the bonus round for extra points, the 60 Minutes or Less Workout . Those pro’s may be skating or skiing the equivalent of five marathons, but we pull off an astonishing few minutes on a treadmill followed by ten whole sit-ups. Darn remarkable.
As for looking like some sort of Sports Illustrated Cover Model, well, we’ll leave that to the Special Ones we are watching on NBC. We show our pride in ourselves for each day that we manage to wear matching socks, underwear that’s not falling apart, a blouse that looks somewhat ironed, and on top of it all, pull off a good hair day.
We all deserve gold, silver and bronze medals for our own Olympic events. We too deserve to have some sort of bling we can wear to show how outstandingly regular, normally human, and amazing we all are.
I do recognize, however, that I need to rethink my planned Medal Ceremonies. I keep eating the medallions.