Day 82: Love and the Olympics

Lindsey Vonn rockets to the left and slides around another gate.  It's the slalom event and I am hooked.  Hooked like the tip of her ski that catches a gate eventually sending her tumbling and out of the race.  On the edge of the couch I bob and twist with the skiers; excited by both the fantastic crashes and speedy finishes.  It's the Olympics and I am wearing the red, white and blue. I almost bought a "Team USA" t-shirt from Target this weekend, but it seemed a little too commercialized for even me. Instead, I pulled our old flag out of storage and tacked it on the front door so that when these sea breezes pick up, the stripes billow out like a parachute.  It's an old classroom flag that is stained and looks falsely antiqued, with tears on the edges.  The flag is worn down and so are we, so it seems appropriate.

I think marriage is alot like an Olympic event.  So many people give it a try.  Some make it and some don't.  There are those who seem to have this natural ability, like they are made for this person. Two lives in sync and they glide across a perfectly conditioned marriage as if it takes no effort at all.  And then there are the rest of us. Couples who struggle everyday through every turn. The ones who have to practice love, who know that a crash could be just around the corner.  Love and the Olympics. 

And just like there's no guarantee of gold in Vancouver, there course out here is littered with hopefuls who dropped out along the way.  Olympians will confirm that sucess is not determined by the luck of the course or the diseasters of the competitors who have gone before.   Success is determined by hard work and long hours and a committment to this sport- this person, above all else. 

Soon, the Olympics will end with a podium and a fist raised in victory.   But love- and marraige will go on.  Hands linked together, podiums stacked away.  Because the race never ends for those of us who are in it for life.