If you haven't been under a rock for the last month, then a) that's a good thing because I imagine you wouldn't have lasted long under a rock; and b) you probably know the 2008 Summer Olympic Games have started in Beijing.
I have to admit my favorite event to watch right now is probably weightlifting, probably 10% due to the power of the competitors and 90% due to the name of the event, which is Clean and Jerk Lifts.
Will Michael Phelps win 8 gold medals, surpassing Mark Spitz's already unbelievable record? I'm going to say probably not, and hope I'm not marked as unpatriotic. Considering the only reason he won the 4x100 relay was because of the last leg swimmer on the U.S. team, it's going to be tough for him.
My least favorite thing about the Olympics (besides synchronized swimming; sorry sis) are the human interest stories. Think back to the origin of the Olympics: the games were created to showcase the capabilities of people that were superior to most everyone, and only had the gods above them as rivals. These people were practically gods in their own right.
But when random NBC broadcast announcer wants to tell me about how this person overcame immense physical and emotional and familial problems to compete and win at this level, it makes them look human in my eyes. When these demigods suddenly become human in my eyes, it forces me to see how out of shape and unhealthy I am. Maybe if I had just stayed with soccer instead of taking a year off in 9th grade, I could be in the Olympics.
So thanks Olympics, for making me feel fat and regret my entire life.
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