Remember This Moment

Hi all,

So it's been...what...WHAT? Five months?!? Oops.
I can't deny that I haven't thought about this blog. There have been moments where I've put down the books and thought, "that would be a good idea for a blog entry. Too bad I have seventeen hours of homework to get through before class starts." So I've put it off, promising myself that when I did finally get reaquainted with this global, digitized community I'd have something amazing to say.

I don't know if this is amazing or not, but I think it's worth saying. The last couple of weeks I have been watching the olympics. I consider myself to be both sentimental and patriotic, so the olympics in Vancouver have rendered me a pile of red and white gushing dribble. I've literally been glued to my television, or when I haven't been at home I've had the live feed running on my laptop.

So I've seen all of it, from tradgedy to triumph. The horrible accident involving the Georgian luger before the olympics were officially opened; the beautiful opening ceremonies, complete with cauldron malfunction; the first gold medal on Canadian soil; the spills and disappointments; the incredible gold medal winning ice dance by that cute young Canadian pair, Virtue and Moir; the disappointing loss in the Canadian vs. US men's hockey game; and the heartbreaking death of Joannie Rochette's mother days before she took to the ice for her big olympic chance.

I just finished watching Joannie skate her short program. She was flawless. I'm thinking now about the determination of these participants. I include more than just the athletes. Right from the beginning of the opening ceremonies. Representatives from all the First Nations peoples across Canada took part in a pow wow that lasted the entire duration of all the athletes' introductions. It had to have lasted more than an hour. Then there was the Georgian team, who entered somberly, but purposely to stake their place in this global event, and to honour their teammate. There was Kristi Richards who, on the medal race in freestyle moguls, fell. She got up, collected herself, faced down the mountain and went all out in her final jump. Even though she was out of the running after her fall, she wanted to do her best just because she could.

After Joannie skated her perfect short program she, understandably, burst into tears. I cried right along with her. I admire her emotional strength. You could tell she was skating for not only her mom, but for her own healing. I think that her commitment brought her mom onto the ice tonight.

And on top of the athletes there have been the coaches, the volunteers, the coordinators, the announcers, the viewers, the people in charge of collecting lost skis, fixing gouges in the ice, timing races, giving directions, serving food, and who knows what else is going on in Vancouver. They're all a part of something bigger, and they are all working tirelessly at it. If there is one thing that I can take as inspiration from the olympics, I want it to be that. Sure, the athletes make me wish that I could run marathons and have washboard abs, but more importantly, I want that never-say-quit attitude. I want to look at my endless to-do list and stop letting it overwhelm me. Afterall, I do all this school and extra stuff because I want to. No one is forcing me. So hopefully after the olympics is all over I will remember that the lack of sleep, the headaches from too much reading, the temporary breakdowns in confidence, they are my falls on moguls, my bad luck with weather, my missed goal, and my step closer to that moment when, medal or not, I did my best.

Afterall, in the end that's what we work hard for, isn't it?