I
love the Olympics. From July 27 to August 12, I’ll be watching along with the
rest of the world to cheer on the more than 10,000 men and women who have gone
to London in search of just one thing—gold.
The
determination, courage, strength and skill of these athletes can excite and
move me like almost nothing else. I know how hard they have worked and what
they have sacrificed. I know more than most people.
I
was 5 the first time I saw my grandfather’s Olympic medal. Kept in a velvet box
in a special drawer, the medal and what it represented fascinated me. From the
time he was old enough to walk, my grandfather rowed. By the time he was 12, he
was racing against some of the top athletes in his native France. Often
competing with his brother Fernand, my grandfather won 18 National Champion
medals and enough international prizes to fill the numerous trophy cases that
lined the walls of his rowing club.
But
it was the Olympic medal that held me the most captivated. As a kid I’d gaze at
it often, trying to imagine what it must have felt like to win it.
I
wondered what he thought about, standing up on that podium. All those years of
slipping his shell into the water at dawn? How many times he’d swept the oars
prior to that one moment? Holding the medal in my hand, I could almost see the
cheering crowd, feel the weight heavy around my neck. And while I’ll never be
one of the very, very few to experience the pure magic of being the best in the
world, I have held on to my desire for my own version of that feeling—it fuels
me every morning as I do my own early morning workout then set about creating
another amazing (humbly speaking) issue of GL (in the immortal words of Lady
Gaga, I was born this way, baby).
My
grandfather died before I got the chance to ask him about that day. The medal
has been moved out of the secret drawer and into a safe deposit box. But every
Olympic year, I think about it. I know when I watch the winners of London bow
their heads to take their place in history, I’ll be thinking of my grandfather.
I’ll also be wishing that, just for a moment, I could have been there—cheering
him on as he realized the dream of a lifetime.
xoxo Karen the Editor
BY KAREN THE EDITOR ON 7/20/2012 12:00:00 AM
POSTED IN olympics, London 2012, Karen the editor, Aug/Sept 2012