Run It, Run It

Now that my Olympic fever has broken, I figured I'd share some of my own tales of athletic adventure.

Just don't expect anything as exciting as curling.

Running runs in my family. My grandpa could go for miles on the beach, practically every day, well into his 70s. My brother ran cross-country for years and still does, recreationally. And I'm pretty sure my uncle still holds track records at my high school. Two years ago, my sister ran the New York City Marathon. As if it weren't enough that she's a model-esque rock star who talks to famous people, she can now add "ultra-athlete" to her resume. Told you she was my hero. :)

Now, I'm the kind of gal who will break into tears over a particularly moving television commercial, so you can imagine how inspiring it was to just be standing there on the sidelines in Central Park, watching runners from all over the world crossing the finish line, never mind my baby sister. I was so proud and so pumped that I decided right there, "I'm gonna do this someday."

Unfortunately, I've been slacking a bit on carrying on the family tradition.

All through elementary school, when I weighed approximately 12 and a half pounds and was of unnatural-for-an-8-year-old height with legs up to my chin, I was unstoppable. Forget tomboy, I was one of the boys. I ruled gym class. I owned the playground. I could sprint like nobody's business. Then, right around the ripe old age of 12, I just stopped. Junior high peer pressure and insecurity were the likely culprits, and beating the boys at dodgeball took a backseat to being popular. Which never really happened anyway.

Bad trade.

So recently I've decided I need to start getting out of the house more, never mind lose about 20 pounds. I live only 3 blocks from Prospect Park, and the loop around the perimeter is almost exaclty a 5K, so I've started running again. And what I mean by "running" is "jogging until I get winded then strolling through the park for 20 minutes." I've got no discipline. So as an incentive, I joined the New York Road Runners. The real draw of this for me is that if you run in 9 of their qualifying races and volunteer at one, you are automatically entered in the next year's NYC Marathon. I am so doing this.

Of course, my sister already belongs to the Road Runners and yesterday was our first race together — a 4-miler in Prospect Park, my home territory. Hearing more experienced runners chatting afterwards about how hilly the course was made me feel a little smug: I "run" this difficult path on a regular basis — take that! But the best part for me, now that I finally have an iPod again, was the soundtrack. It's so much easier to keep a regular pace if you have a beat to follow, especially if that beat belongs to Stone Temple Pilots' "Sex Type Thing."

But here's the really astounding part: I neither planned nor expected to run the whole race straight through (I know my limits), and I had the iPod on shuffle — totally random — but somehow, every time I was about to slow down and start walking, Lady Gaga came on. Seriously — right after the first mile, when the uphill was really getting steep: "Paparazzi." After the second water station, when I was tempted to slow down and really take a drink: "Bad Romance." And on the home stretch: "Pokerface." Those are also the only 3 Gaga songs I have on my playlist right now. It was like fate! And there's nothing more fun than sailing on an endorphin high, panting "Ra ra ra ah ah, roma ro ma ma" or "'Cause I'm bluffin' with my muffin!" out loud, and watching everyone who passes you give you weird looks.

Thank you, Cleveland!

Also: 53 minutes. All before I usually even wake up on a weekend. :) And I am now officially on my way to running the 2012 NYC Marathon.

...if the world doesn't end by then.

O Canada!

Thank you, Team USA and Team Canada, for the most thrilling series of Olympic hockey games I have ever beheld. You deserve those medals and more.

Ice Hockey Terms That Make Me Snicker

...despite the fact that I've been following this sport since I was 5 (GO RANGERS!).

In honor of today's marquee Olympic match-ups between the Czech Republic and Russia, and the US and Canada (GO CZECHS! GO CANUCKS!), some of my favorite funny phrases:

* stick handling
* puck handling
* power play
* shorthanded
* hooking
* holding
* back checking
* in the crease
* bouncing puck
* slow whistle
* slapshot
* poke check
* penalty box
* first period
* snow shower
* two-man advantage
* pulling the goalie
* waffle pads
* Zamboni

The Winter (Of My Discontent) Games

21-year-old Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili died yesterday before the official start of the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics during a practice run because he crashed at about 95 mph and flew into an unpadded steel support post.

So basically, he died for a really fast sled ride.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to be callous. I feel terrible for his family, friends and teammates. It's sad that such a joyous occasion as the Opening Ceremonies was shadowed by such a tragic event. I teared up when the Georgian delegation entered the arena and the crowd gave them a standing ovation. It breaks my heart that someone so young came so close only for a terrible accident to rob him of his chance to compete. And I can understand the desire to represent your country and be a part of the Olympic Games in any way you can.

But the fact that luge is even considered an Olympic sport pisses me off. It's basically just a really dangerous amusement park ride. I feel like even ice dancing requires more skill and training. And say all you want about curling, but at least it's the "athlete" that's doing most of the work, not gravity and a big twisty slide.

Please, correct me if I'm wrong — I'm not presenting myself as an authority by any means. These are only my impressions from watching the races on television. However, according to The Washington Post, Svein Romstad of the International Luge Federation said that when Kumaritashvili flew off the track, he experienced "a G-force that literally collapsed his body, rendering it difficult to control the sled." Sounds to me like I'm pretty much (forgive the pun) on track.

So women's ski jumping is still not allowed, but being crushed by the G-force created by sliding downhill on a sharply curved track surrounded by giant steel posts at 95 mph on a sled over which you have no control — that embodies the grand Olympic spirit of the Winter Games.

Go world.