I’ve watched the coverage of the Olympic Games pretty much every night. The athletes are amazing. Their bodies are sculpted, honed, and toned with precious little body fat. (Excepting the weight lifters and some of the wrestlers, I guess.) I can only guess how many hours a day they spend practicing their chosen sport and putting in extra effort developing those efficient, strong bodies.
I prefer to watch some sports over others. I could watch swimming or gymnastics forever, but to be honest, it’s a little difficult for me to get excited about the triple jump. As the games go on night after night, I wonder if the announcers grow weary of commentating the events. How hard is it to maintain enthusiasm, excitement and originality when you’re reporting on the 12th of 13 nearly identical archery shots? How do you foster excitement in your viewing audience over Greco-Roman wrestling when you know that 98% of your viewers don’t know the difference between G-R wrestling and the WWF, except that the athletes in the Olympics don’t have glitter capes, masks or a tendency to throw their opponents against the ropes?
I was thinking about this again tonight and then started to amuse myself by announcing on my own weight loss effort. I played both partners in the conversation. It sounded a bit like the announcers that report on the gymnastics competition.
“Mary, we know her objective is to eat 60 to 80 grams of protein a day. Frankly, can she hit that mark with the eating routine she has planned?”
“Well, Mary, she is a bariatric patient. On the surface, her degree of difficulty overall is a bit low with the added advantage of having the surgery, but let’s not forget this important point…”
(Mary One’s ears perk up about an important point.)
(Mary Two continues) “…. If she doesn’t execute effectively early in the day, she has no chance to make up her score later on. She simply doesn’t have room for error — or room for extra food in the stomach — to risk not meeting her nutritional goals early in the program.”
Later on in the day, our competitor has veered away from her food plan at lunch, due to an abundance of baked goods showing up in the kitchen at work, shared by another department. The commentators weigh in.
“Ohh, no. A chocolate chip cookie! Tell me, Mary, can she recover from her slip or is that the end of her medal dream?”
“Well, Mary, overall this was a minor bobble in an otherwise strong routine. If she can pull off the other elements of her program, she might be able to overcome any deductions. Let’s see… here’s her final snack for the evening and. . . and . . . she stuck the finish. Excellent!”
Like I said, I’ve been watching a lot of the Olympics. Maybe too much if I’m having sports commentary conversations in my head. That said, I need to remember that one slip doesn’t necessarily derail the entire effort. If I stick to my regiment and plan, I will succeed.