The first Olympics I ever really paid any attention to were the 2008 Games in Beijing. I watched the inauguration ceremony on the TV in my grandparent’s house in Mexico right before leaving for the airport to head home. It was 8:08 pm on August 8, 2008, and the commentator made special emphasis on the importance of the number eight (八, stylized as bā in pinyin), an auspicious number in Chinese numerology. I remember being impressed at the intricate choreographies and the beautiful fireworks, and at what seemed like a wonderful coincidence that they had gotten to host the Olympics precisely on the best date possible.
Once home, I spent the next two weeks feverishly watching the super-human feats of the Olympians, and at eleven years old, weighed my chances: I might still go to the Olympics, I thought, but I needed to start training now. I was especially taken by the USA Gymnastics team, which captured America’s and my attention. I liked Shawn, but I loved Nastia and her pink outfits, and was equal parts annoyed at and terrified of her dad, her coach and a former Olympic champion.
My obsession during the London 2012 Olympics was soccer, when Mexico won the gold medal, the first and last a match has made me cry. The Royal Wedding of 2011 meant that Kate and William, newlyweds and hosts, were featured in almost all the coverage, no matter how tangentially related they were to the sport at hand. Of the 2012 Games, what I most liked were the aforementioned gold medal and Kate Middleton’s hair; I despised Ryan Lochte and thought he was an attention seeker and a braggart.
My previous assessment was confirmed at the 2016 Olympics in Rio, where I closely followed the swimming competitions. I have to admit that I was most taken by the Portuguese, and took classes for a few months afterwards. It’s similarity to Spanish made me think I was naturally gifted at language learning, which has not proved to be the case. In Rio, for the first time, many of the Olympians were either my age or younger (looking at you, Katie Ledecky and Simone Biles) and their absolute mastery of a discipline shocked me.
At 19, it was hard to believe that I had contemporaries who not only had such specific goals and aspirations, but achieved them, too. Olympic athletes are, by and large, incredibly young, and they devote their entire lives to a discipline that they can only excel at for a short period of time. For us, the audience, some of the excitement comes from discovering that year’s protagonists, the lucky athletes who capture our attention and hearts; and later, the charged will-they, won’t-they of returning to the next Olympics. That uncertainty, which we find riveting, must be brutal for the athletes, having your entire life’s work hinge on one good or bad day, although I can’t imagine that any aspect of their job is conducive to stability and mental tranquility (I write too-long diatribes on the Internet for no one to read, so what do I know about risk-averse decision making?).
I watched this year’s Games with more attention than usual, staying up until the wee hours watching whatever was on, and am currently watching the Paralympic Games, which have just begun. (Don’t ask about my sleep schedule). This time, I was obsessed with diving, probably due to the large number of talented Mexican and American competitors; but like most people, I became especially endeared by Hongchan Quan, the Chinese gold medalist, who at 14 seemed so small, so stoic, so much more sure of herself than everybody else. Part of what draws us to these events is the ephemeral nature of the competition- you train your whole life for a chance to prove yourself once (twice if you’re lucky) and win the most coveted sporting award in human history: an Olympic medal.
Even today, I find it impossible to put myself in their shoes; to imagine a life lived with such a clear, tangible goal, reached (or not) at such an early age and followed by a large question mark. How does one transition from a lifetime of the hard, methodical work required to become an Olympian into an early retirement at 30? What must that feel like to train and compete for years only to miss out on a medal? Medal or no medal, how do you redefine happiness and success in life when your chosen career is over so soon?
While Olympic glory is endlessly appealing, I’m glad that, at 24, I’m nowhere near the peak of my career, and that I’ve chosen to pursue a path with much more flexible (ambiguous?) definitions of success. It is comforting to think that you are only just getting started, and that no matter where you’re headed, the only direction is up.
Besides the Olympic Games, some things I’ve loved lately include:
I watched both seasons Never Have I Ever in a week, became way too invested in a fictional teenage love-triangle than is appropriate. Everyone on this show is incredibly charismatic and the story is both heartwarming and hilarious. I can’t wait to obsess over everything that happens in Devi’s orbit whenever Season 3 is released.
After years of coveting it, I finally got my hands on a copy of the first book in Hilary Mantel’s Wolf Hall trilogy, a historical-fiction book that chronicles the life and times of Thomas Cromwell. It took me about a week to read, and while the number of characters can be a little overwhelming, it is expertly paced, beautifully written, and the work of a true genius.
Just like with Wolf Hall, I’ve been looking for Bring up the Bodies (Book 2) everywhere that isn’t Amazon and I haven’t found it yet, but I’m dying to read it. I saw The Mirror and the Light (Book 3) at the airport last week but didn’t buy it which I now regret. Such is the life of a deeply apprehensive shopper.
Another book I’d been wanting for years is Bad Blood, by John Carreyrou, which details the fraudulent scheme behind Theranos, the blood testing company founded by Elizabeth Holmes. The book originated from an article in The Wall Street Journal that first revealed the extent of incompetence and deceitfulness at Theranos. It’s funny that after wanting to read it ever since it was published, I only got to it now, a week before her criminal trial begins.
Tom Daley made me rediscover my love for knitting, which had lain dormant since high school. I have a few sweaters knitted by my grandmother, and while I’d love to reach that skill level I’m sticking to scarves for now.
Kacey Musgraves released a new song, star-crossed, in anticipation of a new album and film, out September 10th. I’ve listened to it maybe 30 times and am super excited for the album. I’ve been holding on to the tickets to her March 2020 concert, so hopefully I can see her live soon! (soon is relative)
Talk soon!
AP