Olympic Dreams
My favorite moment in the Olympics so far was watching Shelly Anne Frazier from Jamaica celebrate after winning the gold in the 100 meters. The pure joy on her face was overwhleming. Her celebration reminded me of times that I celebrated with my teammates after hard-earned victories, and just how much I miss competitive sports. It's hard to explain to people who never competed at that level (or at all) how it felt, how much it mattered. I poured my blood, sweat and tears into that game for the better part of my life so far. I can't begin to describe how much it meant to me, how much I loved it, and how much I miss it now. But to be good, the game has to be everything to you, and I couldn't do that anymore. And while I know I made the right choice, I still cry often when I watch a basketball game and catch myself thinking, "If I were playing, I would have _______ instead," or when I watch any athlete celebrating after a win, or crumpling after a loss. There is nothing quite like it, and it is not just a game. It will always be there, in my heart and soul, making me ache to play again.
On a completely different note, you should read "Three Cups of Tea." I haven't finished it yet, but it is lovely. It makes me long to go to the Middle East, which may seem strange after all that happens in the book, but I've been fascinated by that region ever since I read "The Far Pavillions" back in high school.