Olympic Excitement

1 Aug

I flipping love the olympics people. (Get it? Gymnastics pun!) Year-rond, I’m a pretty patriotic gal, but this is really the prime time to let my flag fly, literally. Oh, and I think Bob Costas might be one of the greatest journalists ever.

When else can you wear your American flag/peace sign earrings and chant “USA USA USA” at the TV? Pretty much only during the Olympics and the World Cup (which I also adore).

Last night I went over to Erin’s hotel room because I’m in the process of switching roomdogs and there is neither TV nor internet to be found at the Dollhouse. We ate Batter Batter Blasts from Sonic and cheered for our team, our country and may have almost cried. More than once.

Of course, gymnastics are my favorite summer game. So the ladies bringing home the gold last night was out of this world. Aly’s final floor routine was inspiring. I thought about doing a double back handspring twist down the hall of the hotel, but then remembered my cartwheels are only average.

I can’t even imagine what that would feel like, especially at 16. Thousands of people yelling and clapping along. Knowing that it’s on international TV and your whole entire country is rooting for you? Unimaginable.

It does really put it into perspective that when I was 16, I was whining about not having a car and hoping someone would go to Homecoming with me. These girls are in London, representing their country and WINNING GOLD MEDALS. But let’s be honest, their parents totally bought them a car and I’m a head taller than all of them.

Erin and I discussed how we would like to see a floor routine to a Beyonce song. Is that too much to ask? Also, less crazy gymnast hair. I hear there were 4,437 crystals on every US leotard, a nod to GaGa?

We also saw some swimming, which was great. It blows my mind how fast they go, especially that last length.

Did anyone else think it was weird how upset Michael Phelps, his coach and his mom looked about the silver medal? I mean, really people, he’s the second best swimmer in the world at that event. Let’s not pretend he was the last picked for recess soccer.

I loved loved loved how Caitlin Leverenz immediately started crying when she won the bronze. Luckily the announcers didn’t give her the Phelps treatment on that race. I just wanted to climb into the pool and cry with her. I can just picture stuffy British olympic officials running out to tell us to get out because we’re getting too much salt in the pool.

The gymnasts show that raw emotion too. Huge smile or a tearful fake smile says more than the scoreboard. I love how they hug and cheer for each other. Gosh, I’m getting emotional just typing.

One of my dreams in life is to go to the olympics. The idea of me qualifying for the olympics is about as likely as my grandma’s chances of buying a motorcycle  (or a “murdercycle” as she calls them). I didn’t start any sports at the age of two. Even as a child/young adult/real adult I’ve never been that good at any sport. My parents didn’t let me practice 6 hours a day. So it’s probs not in my cards.

My backup dream is to go to the olympics to watch (or report). That still seems highly unlikely, but more digestible than the original dream. But what are the olympics about, if not for dreams?



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