Olympic material or Ozempic material?

For the Win!

It's Olympics time!

I love to watch all the sports, even the ones where the athletes look like they breakfast on bowls of multivitamans every morning. I prefer the ones where they look like they eat bowls of doughnuts, but Sumo wrestling is still waiting its turn at the Olympics.

But I follow Simone Biles like fairytale children follow bread crumbs through the forest, so I’m tuned in with a front-row recliner to see how the games play out.

Watching the qualifying rounds for gymnastics on a screen large enough to reveal which athletes floss their teeth, I couldn’t help noticing some details. First, that other people in the house get testy if they can’t see the action.

Bill: For heaven’s sake, you’re fogging up the screen when you exhale.

Me: I want to see if  the gymnasts have panty lines.

Bill: You just sucked three lights off the Eiffel Tower. Snoop Dogg’s Doo Rag flew past and landed on the Pit Bull. It looks like he's wearing a red, white, and blue toga.

Some people don't appreciate the spirit of the Olympics.

ANYWAY, I made a list of differences I discovered between Olympic athletes and me. I just have to make a few minor adjustments and I’ll be ready to audition for the 2028 games in Los Angeles. I'm looking at you, Sumo wrestling.

Things I noticed about Olympic athletes:

1.  They dress up nicer to sweat than I do to eat Heath bars in my living room. An internationally famous gymnast had bigger sparkles under her eyebrows than Galileo charted in the night sky. If I tried that trick, I’d blind myself. My hands are so shaky these days that when I put on mascara, my eyelids look like a bar code.

2.  Wedgies are a fashion accessory. I don’t mean the shoes that look like you’re standing on little hills, I mean when your bathing suit, leotard or other essential athletic paraphernalia becomes wedged between the gluteus and the maximus giving the viewers maximus exposure and the athlete maximum discomfort. There are divers I could pick out of a lineup without ever seeing their faces.

3.   They take longer to pack to leave the arena that I do to go on vacation. I learned to pack from my son. He tosses his laptop and tablet in a bag, cushions it all with spare socks, sticks his phone in his pocket, and heads for the car. I watched as the American gymnasts carefully folded warmup clothes, tucked in their personal equipment, meticulously ascertained that all was secure, hoisted their bags and paraded ceremoniously three yards (that’s 2.7432 meters European) out of the arena. Now I’m self-conscious that I don’t pack a bag to go to the bathroom.

4.   The swimmers cover their bathing suits with puffy coats. Finally, something we have in common. I have a muumuu made out of blackout curtains that I wear over my suit to guard against frightening small children and wayward sea turtles at the beach.

5.  All in all, it's good to be reminded that heroes are made from everyday people. The pommel horse specialist who clinched the bronze medal for the American men’s gymnastics team turned from Clark Kent to Superman when he took off his glasses. 

Maybe I AM Olympics material. When I take off my glasses, I fly through the room like Wonder Woman.

But usually it’s because I trip over the dog.