Then we start moving over to land sports. I watch the beach volleyball teams. How is it that the men have such comfortable uniforms and the women wear a bra and panties? I am assured that this is the best suit for the sport they play but I can’t help but wonder if it’s to attract more viewers or wearing a bathing suit is what they wore on the beach—with a volleyball. I watch them dive for a ball and wonder where the sand ends up. I’ve fallen a few times on the beach and can vouch that it’s tough to get the sand out of those tight places. I move past looking at the suits and their talent shows as I watch the game. Several people at the gym looking at me when I yell at an exciting point.

So we are starting on the first week with the games and I’m glued to the set. I watch because I can live vicariously through these athletes as I get into the pool, lace up my shoes, or clip my feet into the pedals of my bike. I can look at these great bodies and dream that if I train like them, or eat like them, I could…well scratch that and let’s move back to the living vicariously. I read about Michael Phelps breakfast as I chew on a few Cheetos and wonder how quickly I’d break 200lbs on a 8,000 calorie diet-can we say within the hour? I cheer each night until midnight and know that come the closing ceremony, I’ll be mourning the end of a great summer Olympics and wondering why I thought Winter was better especially with all that padding.