Monday, August 8, 2016

Olympic Musings

Unless you live under a rock, I'm sure that we are all aware the Olympics are currently underway in Rio. The olympics are awesome for a myriad of reasons. They bring the world together, they allow us to witness great victories, and crushing defeats. For two weeks, we are all united in a form of patriotism that truly seems unique to the Olympics. It's also some flat out good entertainment.

I was an athlete once. And so the Olympics hold some special weight and meaning for me. Not because I really think I could have made it there (although my mom still holds out some hope. Sorry mom, but that ship really has sailed), but because...I have dozens of friends, former teammates, rivals, and acquaintances there. For years I played part of a breeding ground designed to feed into the greatest of all athletic pursuits. In many ways, despite having been retired since 2009 (can you call it retirement when only your parents really paid attention?) and officially checked out, I am still invested. I can't seem to help it.

This morning I tuned in to the rowing events. And my heart both soared, and broke, for the people I know who successfully progressed, and for those who weren't so fortunate. Rowing is unlike any other sport, and you have to be a glutton for punishment to really engage. Elite athletes at the olympic level generally train 3 times a day, 6 days a week, often receiving little or no funding, and the only time the world really pays attention is at the olympics. It takes a special athlete, as well as the ability to be selfish. Selfish about your needs, your caloric intake, your rest. To be successful, it is imperative to take care of yourself. And so today, I was surprised at the emotions I felt as I watched races play out on the Lagoa, naively thinking that I was now far enough removed to be able to watch as a particularly well informed spectator.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't nostalgic, and maybe even a touch jealous. Could it have been me? Probably not But could I have been on the cusp? Maybe. And yet...as I watched with my two little ones cheering and playing next to me, I couldn't help but draw parallels. I can't be selfish in the way I once was. Teething babies at night are not conducive to 6 am practices that require your best. Nap times aren't scheduled around practices. And in the end...I chose this life. And I chose it willingly. And I wouldn't change it.

Rowing is a sport of intensity and miles. Truly countless hours and practices that feed into one race that, boat and conditions depending, will last between 5-9 minutes. The investment is staggering, all for several minutes to prove yourself. But each practice, each mile, each blister, each race, build on each other. And even then, even when you've done everything right leading up, the wind, an injury, or a rogue wave can ruin it.

I may not be an elite athlete anymore. These days I'm lucky if I fit in most of my training workouts for my upcoming half marathon. But each day I'm investing. It may be in other ways, but it's still an investment. I'm investing in my marriage when I choose kind words over snarky sarcasm. I'm investing in my children with each kiss, each late night feeding, each afternoon at the park, and each tantrum that I don't lose my cool over. I have my own victories, and my own defeats. Nine months of pregnancy, extended breastfeeding, sleepless nights, vomit, and homemade meals don't look anything like a boat down a race course. But it is an investment of my choice all the same. And EVEN THEN, even though I have given my everything to this extended process of child rearing (quadrennial my a**), there is no guarantee that it will go perfectly, or even how I want. A frightening world, wars, temptations and vice are all real threats that could throw THIS race sideways. But that doesn't mean I give up. It doesn't mean I expect defeat. It doesn't mean I don't work like a dog for the best possible outcome.

My mom has always called me her "reluctant athlete". I fell in love with a sport that turned me into one. And one I eventually had to walk away from. But maybe, those aspects of athleticism are still deeply engrained. Maybe, there's an olympian in every parent. Maybe. I like to think so.




Sunday, February 14, 2016

Overheard

Adam and Jim were wrestling, far and away Adam's favourite thing to do.

Jim: Adam, I'm gonna put you in the python!

Adam: Daddy, I'm gonna put you in the BUM!!!

I prefer not to try and imagine just what that wrestling move might look like.