1) I Am Not a Fitness Fanatic
I don’t think this is exactly earth-shattering news to anyone who has either seen me, or heard me mention my love affair with ice cream, or heard my comments along the lines of “If you see me running, you had better haul ass, because something awfully scary must be running behind me.”
But I do have this idea in my head that I should be getting up at the crack of dawn and exercising. I feel constant guilt about the fact that I cannot get myself out of bed. Not enough guilt to actually do anything about it, but still.
One of the commentators was talking about Felix Sanchez, saying that he gets up at 5am most days to train, and because of that he called him a “fitness fanatic.”
If an Olympic gold medalist is considered a fanatic for getting up early, then clearly my expectations for myself are outlandish.
Problem solved. In fact, I have improved my health by reducing my anxiety and all that extra cortisol floating around. Maybe I AM a health nut.
Just a regular nut.
2) I Am Totally Qualified to Coach a Team Sport
I was watching a bit of the basketball, and during the Russian team’s huddle, the coach starting barking at a couple of the players for not listening. Something along the line of “Stop talking!! Alright, you two are out…you’ll have plenty of time for talking on the bench!”
My kids actually looked around wondering if he was talking to them, because it sounded so hauntingly familiar.
And I can’t be sure, but I swear the bench had “Naughty Seat” stencilled along the top.
3) I Am Not the Grandma of Accounting
If you want to feel good about aging, don’t choose a career in modelling or sports. Or anything involving teenagers or fraternities.
Iordan Iovtchev from Bulgaria was referred to as the “Grandpa of Gymnastics.”
He is 39.
One year older than I am, and being called a Grandpa. How depressing.
This just doesn’t happen in accounting. Or maybe I was already old just for thinking numbers were interesting.
Get off my lawn!!!
4) I’m Not Dead Inside
It turns out that I am a sap and will cry when anyone from any country wins.
Not so much with the team sports, but more with the individual events, where they do a close-up of their face, and you can see every emotion that they are feeling.
Even on my ancient non-HDTV RCA that is covered in greasy kid finger smudges.
I also feel the need to replace our TV every time the commercial comes on with the athletes scolding me about how hard they have worked, and I had better be watching them on a decent TV. I imagine that they wouldn’t be too keen to learn that I am cheering them on from my recliner elbow-deep in a bag of Frito’s either.
5) The Olympics is Bad for My Health
The Olympic coverage has led to binge-eating as I absorb all of the stress and excitement of the athletes.
I have learned to justify not getting up and exercising in the morning, out of fear of being labelled “a fanatic.”
I am becoming severely dehydrated from the dangerous combination of high coffee-consumption and copious amounts of sobbing.
I don’t want to move from my couch out of fear that the elusive synchronized swimming will magically appear the second I leave the room. I think I am getting bed sores. The schedule of televised events is prepared by the same people who schedule furniture delivery and cable repairs. “Your favourite event will be on sometime between now and never, and if you aren’t there when we put it on the screen, the next available viewing is in 4 years.”
We have eaten more pizza and easy food that can be eaten in front of the TV than I care to admit. While we watch people exercise. We have no moral standards.
So in conclusion, the Olympics is the leading cause of obesity.* Michael Moore will probably want me to consult on his next documentary. Someone needs to hold the IOC accountable.
*It’s possible that this is not scientifically valid, but rather the random ramblings of an aging housewife looking to point fingers at a group of people that weren’t chosen last for every damn event in gym class.
Photo credit: Creative Commons from Dave Catchpole