Tuesday, August 19, 2008

O O O what did we do before...

the Olympics? Was there life before? Will there be life after? If I feel this exhausted how are the athletes going to survive?

Its been a telly-fest. The boys have loved it.

During the gymnastics Big Brother started launching himself off the back of the couch, twisting his body into spins and flips and landing on his head in the cushions. Not quite a 10 out of 10 routine but his training schedule has been rather neglected.

Then came the swimming and the Ph-(elps)-ish (disguised as a man). I examined the boys feet to see if they were paddle-like or sported any webbing that at any other time would mean a trip to the plastic surgeon, but this week would inspire me to phone a swimming coach. I measured their arms span in relation to their height (Phelps is taller sideways). Bit too cold to throw them in the pool this week.

Then came the Lightning Bolt. We ran and thumped our chests and tried to look like we weren't even puffed.

And the rowing and the shotput (had to send them outside to throw oranges).

After watching the swimming one night I said to BB - 'Do you want to be an Olympic swimmer?'
'No', he said.
'What would you like to do?' I asked
'I need to run' he said, and paused (I visualised the odds of winning gold in the 100m sprint with the genetic disadvantage of me as his mother) but then he continued, ' with a rugby ball'.

Of course there is life after the Olympics...its called rugby.

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