I love the Olympics. I mean I looooovvveee the Olympics. I once reviewed the list of Olympic sports just to see if I could compete in something. Anything. Sadly, my fencing skills aren't what they used to be. And, being 6'2, the gymnastics leotard was a little short in the crotch.
Every time I hear the Olympic theme song I get tears in my eyes. I've actually considered putting it on my iPod. The games represent such grit, determination and sacrifice. Can you imagine training every day of your life for four years just for one chance to compete?
I'm a sucker for those Bob Costas feature stories where they show the obstacles the athlete has overcome for just one chance to win. I have to fan myself to tone down the tears.
I attended the Olympics in Atlanta and remember it as an incredibly fun time. People from every corner of the world were milling about in Centennial Park. We were all friends and neighbors at that point. It was a refreshing change from today's seemingly hostile international scene.
My hubby doesn't care for the Olympics. Sigh. He has to be a Communist. How can you not want to watch Carl Lewis or Flo Jo? How can you not well up when Kerri Strug lands on one foot to seal the gold? If anything, how can you not want to watch those sand volleyball players in their tiny uniforms?
To all the Olympic athletes: You make America proud. God bless you.
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