Week recap…The Olympics

"Running is 80 percent mental." JOAN BENOIT SAMUELSON
Watching the end of the first week now and it’s from Friday to Friday, where that is 7 days. 7 days of watching athletes, the best in the world compete against other athletes in the world vying for 3 medals and the claim to say that you are the best in the world.

These 7 days have been absolutely draining proportions. But what is this? I am not doing anything. I am only watching the athletes compete. Why am I getting so nervous? Why do I have such a high sense of pride for my nation? Why am I rooting for China a the same time? What is wrong with me?

Not training at all, where I have picked the best time to rest. But did I? Seriously?

All I am doing is torturing myself. Watching people run down Park Ave when Park Ave was closed for the summer streets. I was having a beer every night with dinner…

Stress! Relief! Wheew! DREAMS!! Ahh, such sportsmanship at these games…it’s incredible! Time, energy and training, you see it all when these athletes cry at the podiums with finally the medals around their necks as they sign in relief. They know how much time they had put in, such sacrifice. As the star spangled banner plays many times within the water cube for Michael Phelps, watching the gymnastics all around.

Chills go down your backs when you see this, but you know you can never do this for yourself, nor would you put your children through this? It takes a special path to go through this yourself or put your child through this long narrow path.

Frustrations & injury are just the beginnings of what these people go through, quick recoveries, loads of time and money. But in the end…a champion…well sometimes, but to many just making it to the Olympic stage is amazing. Just making it to nationals is amazing!

For me, I’m resting my feet. Cranking out my cranked Achilles tendonitis or tight calf. I can feel the tightness and a twinge as I walk down the stairs in the morning form my apartment. I can feel a knot sometimes as I massage the muscle. You may seem that I am self torturing myself, but I massage my calf with a golf ball. Yes folks, a gold ball right into the muscle where pain is not an option. Crazy?

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