Summer Olympic Reflections

Nothing like watching the world’s best athletes compete in the Summer Olympics for two weeks to make me feel like a total piece of crap.

 

The swimmers and divers are at the pinnacle of physical perfection, their ripped muscles highlighted by the sweat and water dripping from their toned physique. I, on the other hand, am finishing a bowl of chocolate chip ice cream as a reward for having sat in a chair at a desk in an office with no windows for 10 hours straight sandwiched by two 1 ½ hour commutes, a load of laundry, changing the sheets, cooking dinner and washing the dishes.

At the track and field events, the runners perform like finely tuned human engines, pumping their arms in rhythmic unison with their stride, while I slog out a slow five miles to “You’re a Loser, Baby” playing in my ipod shuffle, aptly followed by “Ordinary People”.

Of course I’m proud of our athletes, and I would never want my nearly naked body and facial expressions analyzed in slow motion replay for the entire world to see and then discuss, but it still leaves me wondering what it feels like to be among the best in the world at something.

 Anything.

I’ve read that if you want to accomplish a goal, you should visualize yourself achieving it to channel positive energy to your dream. So I try this as I turn in a bronze worthy performance on the remote control successfully following three TV programs at once- the Summer Olympics, the Red Sox and Project Runway; an almost flawless execution.

Not one to settle for 3rd, the next night I can almost hear the crowd chanting USA as I turn in a silver medal winning performance in pasta cooking; my ziti a nearly perfect al dente.

Still, I yearn for the highest spot on the platform and I achieve it soon enough as that last hot flash was undoubtedly a perfect 10. I can almost feel the pride of my country as the gold medal is placed around my neck as our national anthem plays in the background as our flag is raised.

While this visualization is good for a mild chuckle, it leaves me feeling like I’ve wasted the greatness many of us have the potential to achieve if we just put in the effort, which reminds me of a quote from Henry D. Thoreau: “Alas for those that never sing, but die with all their music in them.”

Those who have actually heard me sing, especially a karaoke number captured on video while on vacation in Minnesota, are most likely wishing that particular music did stay buried deep within me. But there is still something about that quote that haunts me.

It haunts me because I’ve heard the music Thoreau was talking about. Like a sound track to my life, it keeps telling me to “do the thing you are supposed to do” but stops short of telling me what the ‘something’ is.

The search for that something- that one thing- that only I can do, has become my personal gold medal quest. But unlike the athletes that can easily recognize their gift and train to bring out their best, mine is apparently still wrapped and tucked in the back of the top shelf of the coat closet in a trash bag behind the pocketbooks, where Santa used to hide my Christmas presents. 

Hopefully by the time my days on earth are done, I will feel that sense of accomplishment and satisfaction that I lived my best life and finally found my purpose.

But until then, I’ll gather inspiration from the athletes who have already done so.

Well done, USA. Well done.