No match for gold

I can’t say I’ve ever thought it would be comfortable running in my underwear. But I’m pretty darn motivated if it means I’ll don some muscle like the Olympic female trackletes. There are some pretty talented human beings in this world! It’s inspiring. And intimidating. But they’re human. I’m human. I can totally compete just as equally. Just put me in a different heat. With an empty arena. And perhaps a toddler for an opponent. On second thought. It’s probably a better win if I just remain on the couch, sip wine and eat some chips. Bringing my gold medal game on a different level.

Michael Phelps. Beast in the pool. Katie Ledecky. Beastette in the pool. Know what I’m a beast at? Laundry. Like, I dominate. Or maybe it dominates me.

Usain Bolt. Holy moly. That’s incredible speed. But I’m also pretty fast. Especially when my daughter has explosive poop ALL. OVER. ME. I can hustle us into the bathroom like no other. I mean, seriously. Look out.

Kerri Walsh Jennings. Amazing. A volleyball goddess. She digs and blocks a ball like it’s her job. Which it is. So yeah, I could do that too. If the ball was a balloon.

Simone Biles. Downright impressive. So small yet so fierce. She has certainly proved her Olympic finesse without a doubt. I’m kind of small. And if you try to talk to me in the morning before I’m ready, I can be pretty dang fierce. Just saying.

Kristin Armstrong. She won her third straight gold in road race cycling, just before her 43rd birthday. That’s cool. I’m thirty-five and certain I could withstand something similar. Except call mine road rash cycling. When I tumble like a weed one mile from our house and need a flatbed to bring me back. Yeah. Almost the same thing.

Those Chinese divers are so fluid. They can’t possibly weigh more than my right arm. But I could absolutely plunge into the water like that. If you pushed me against my will and didn’t deduct points for the heinous splash that came with it. A solid cannonball is an art, right?

And let me just say something about the steeplechase. First of all, what the heck is that?! Like, who comes up with an event where you run 3000 meters and have to jump over several hurdles? As if running 3000 meters isn’t a death sentence then you have to power through some crazy butt barrier with water and run with wet feet? I mean, that totally sounds like something I could do. Kind of like leaving Target on a weekend when the parking lot left you with a spot that’s halfway to Romania and now it’s pouring rain. Throw in an arm full of bags, a toddler and flip flops. And boom. Steeplechase to the car.

When it all comes down to it, these individuals train the heck out of their bodies. They endure things that I just can’t even imagine. And here I am. Struggling to make it through the days because I’ve been up late watching the darn games every single night. Like, zombie mombie right here. But I love it. I love that there are wickedly awesome individuals out there who amaze people with their talent and with their passion. Who do it because they know they were born for it. And follow through because that is exactly what God gifted them to do. That’s what breeds a champion. It’s recognizing their potential and letting the world unfold at their feet. Give me some of that desire and you’ll never see another stray sock get past me!

 

 

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