All they Say is Yes.

I have a confession to make:  when it comes to the Olympics, I have always been a complete and total nerd.

I.  LOVE.  THEM.

You, too? 

For me, I can remember exactly when my love affair with the Games began.  I was 10-years-old and I was watching the 1988 Winter Olympics at a neighbor's house since my parents and I had been invited for dinner.  No other kids were around so it was just me and the TV for the night.  Luckily the Olympics were in full force and one event in particular was center stage.  Two words, people: figure skating.  I was absolutely mesmerized.  Debi Thomas.  Katarina Witt.  Midori Ito.  Never before had I seen girls glide on the ice like this and be both so powerful and beautiful at the same time.  Not to mention their sparkly outifts--I mean, I was 10 so I was completely and totally diggin' the "sparkly".  More than anything, though, they were doing the seemingly impossible.  Thanks to years of training and through sheer will and determination, they were able to leap up, get air and fly.  I wanted to be just as graceful.  Just like them, I wanted to fly. 

So on that frosty night in my little girl mind it was decided.  I may have already been 5'7" by that time and, meh, a little chubby as I was steadily racing towards my current 6' stature.  But I didn't care.  In my mind on that night I was completely and totally convinced: I, too, would be a petite figure skater and eventually go to the Olympics for figure skating.  I even remember fake gliding around the room repeatedly in my socks during commercials like I was already in a pair of skates on the ice.  Of course, I got shock after shock as my socks continually rubbed on the carpet.  But I tried my best to hide my discomfort knowing, even then, that some pain would probably be part of the endeavor.  Crying is for wimps, I thought.  My parents said, "Yes!  Do it!" yelling from the other room as I told them my plans.  (They were always good sports like that).  We even went ice skating more than usual that winter just to aid my enthusiasm.

But it turned out the quest was short-lived.  After that winter my little-girl attention span, as they are known to, wavered and inevitably I came to focus on other things like ballet, basketball and rollerskating.  I grew up (both in age and height) and outgrew that albeit brief Olympic dream, both literally and figuratively.

What my little girl wish ultimately changed into is now my current fascination.  And so much so that each Olympics cycle, as soon as they come on, normal life as I know it stops.  I find myself watching hours of competition.  I pore over the web to see articles about my favorite athletes.  I stay in on a Saturday night just to catch up on the Lochte/Phelps "situation".  And, just recently, I woke up at 5am to watch one event just so I could see it live online and not have to wait for the replay.

I know.  Total SuperNerd.

I'm fine with that.  Because for me it is more than just the sports and athletic aspect of it all.  Sure, it is pretty amazing to see someone do backwards flips off of a platform I probably would never even jump off of, never mind dive.  And the speed at which the men and women track athletes run is enough to make me gasp.  And when the swimmers are gliding across the pool, seemingly part fish/part human, it is truly a sight to see.  I get all of that, and then some.  They are incredibly talented at what they do.  Still for me, it's much more simple.

I've always considered myself to be a pretty dedicated person.  Whether it is dedication to a friend or to a cause or to something as simple as following through on a promise, I try to do what my Mom always told me to do:  Show up.  In life, she stressed that showing up is often half the battle.  Sure, sometimes you will struggle and yes, often there are certain things that are way beyond your control.  But showing up, she encouraged, was a big way to ensure success.  And collectively I think we all want to be affirmed that if we simply show up and work hard enough at something we, too, can have the opportunity for whatever dream, Olympic or otherwise, that we may have of our own.

In my opinion, that is what makes the Olympians so special.  Simply put, Olympic athletes show up.  In a world where we all too often say "can't",  "don't want to" and "won't" all they say is "yes", over and over again. Yes, I will do double practices today even while working a full-time job.  Yes, I will do another rep. Yes, I will push through the pain.  Yes, I will go to bed early.  Yes, I will keep going.  Yes, I will do whatever it takes.  Yes, I will show up again and again, year after year and do my best, no matter what.  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  This is what still mesmerizes me: their ability to show up.  Because for an Olympic athlete, it appears that words such as "no" and "never" just don't exist.  All they say is yes.  It is because of that trait alone that I am constantly in awe of them and will always watch them and cheer them on as they work.  And it is because of that yes along with their persistence, passion and talent that we are all continually amazed as we watch them do the impossible.  Again and again and again, we watch them as they fly.