My Olympic dreams are shattered

Last night, as I was in my normal routine of watching the Olympics with my bag of Cape Cod chips and ice cold sweet tea, I was struck by an interview NBC did of an American athlete competing in the hurdles (you know, where they run and jump over those things really fast). Anyway, the reporter was asking him how he was feeling, after dealing with appendicitis, torn ligaments, knee surgery and a heart transplant this year (ok, the heart transplant I made up). As I sat there, wiping my greasy hands on my pj's, I said to myself "what's your excuse"? I haven't had any of those things to deal with this year, and yet, I can't seem to get motivated to walk down to the weight room and get on the treadmill for 30 minutes. Yet, here he was, competing in the Olympics after all life threw at him this year. I'm sad to say, but I will never be an Olympian. I know, shocker! But hear me out. For years I would watch things on t.v. and say to myself "I still could do that if I wanted to....I just don't want to". There is something disturbingly powerful in those words. You reach an age though (and mine is 39) where you say "jeez, I couldn't do that even if I wanted to". This stinks, let me tell ya. To watch Michael Phelps swim and realize, rather depressingly, that you are old enough to be his mother, makes you want to cry. At least it did me. The other thing that hit me last night was that I have no determination - at least not that of an Olympic champion. To see this runner, and swimmers, and gymnasts, come back from injury after injury gave me pause. I'll be honest, if it's raining, I'm not running. No chance. No way. And if I'm really being open here, I will tell you right now there are days I pray for rain, just so I don't have to go. Heart of an Olympian....I think not. So the Olympics have been inspiring for many people. For me, not so much. It's just made me feel old, and weak, and well, lazy. Excuse me now while I run to get a chocolate milkshake to make myself feel better.