I audibly cry out in pain when I watch Olympians wipe out. I hate it for them, and it crushes my heart when it happens. When the Canadian favorite for halfpipe skiing landed the small of the back on the edge of the pipe, I groaned and tensed up as if I had landed like him. When poor Lipitsknaya fell to the ice just a few minutes a go, I yelped as if someone had crushed the side of my knee with a combat boot. I can't help it. My heart breaks whenever Olympians make a mistake, because I know how hard they worked, only to have this shattering moment in front of the world.
The Summer Games turn me into a complete wreck. I can't take my eyes off of the screen for gymnastics, men and womens. I am completely floored by what they manage to do with their bodies; I admit a huge streak of jealousy mixed with my fascination with mens' rings and high bar. But at the same time, I've watched medal contenders lose their grip on the bar at mind-warping speeds and fly face first into the mat...only to get up and grab the bar again. My heart broke when Orozco collapsed on pommel horse and when Mulroney dumped one of her vaults...but then again, when Raismann hit the very last bounce on the floor routine and she was already crying because she knew she'd won gold, I knew too, and was every bit elated with her.
The Olympics are my soap opera. When did I get so emotional?