I’m really digging this year’s Summer Olympics! I’m certainly no aficionado, but my DVR is filling up with coverage quite nicely and I really look forward to checking out the day’s events each evening. The swimming and gymnastics are my favorite, but I’ve been genuinely excited during every event I’ve watched so far (I will say, though, that Michael Phelps should have to do some genetic testing, because that man is surely part fish). The only thing I haven’t enjoyed about the Games so far has been how old I feel while watching them. Gabby Douglas is half my age and any Olympians who are competing in their thirties have been referred to over and over again as “brave” or “mature,” which feels to me like code for “old.” I thought that maybe I should try to carry myself more like an Olympian, since I don’t feel particularly brave or mature on a day-to-day basis. So far, however, pretending my cell phone is a discus when I toss it on the sofa hasn’t earned me any medals at home. And nobody calls me “mature” when I strike a gymnastics-style ending pose after I finish unloading the dishwasher. Maybe I’ll fair better when the Winter Olympics roll around in two years – I think the stairs heading down to the laundry room will make a great luge track.
– Tiffany Blaire