I'm having a remarkably unsuccessful sick day - "unsuccessful" in the sense that I've actually gotten quite a lot of work done. I'd been awakened by some fairly painfulstomach cramps and by morning was still feeling a bit shaky. I wanted to take a sick day, but I had three meetings to call into (two I'd set up myself), some training materials I wanted to get finished, and some necessary studying I need to do for that damned exam I have to take Saturday. Most important, I'd planned a luncheon with someone I haven't seen for years who, I recently found out, is working at another nearby site of my company's, and I didn't have her email address or phone number at home. So I drove in, picked up my laptop and study materials, and told my boss I was leaving again.
At least I've also gotten some dozing, pleasure reading and napping in as well, and knitting during meetings and while studying. Maybe I'll log it as half a sick day.
I'm pleased to be into the ribbing at the bottom of Rudder's sweater. Once I finish that, I just need to pick up and knit the ribbed neck and tuck in a few ends and I'll be done (unfortunately, just in time for 80 degree weather).
Someone commented here that she was annoyed by the Olympic commenters who asked every athlete about the flaws in their run, race, routine or game, and that she felt they were spending too much tme searching for negativity. (Unfortunately, I think I must have deleted the comment by mistake. I apologize to whoever wrote it - sometimes the real messages get lost among the blasted hordes of sp@m comments. ) She thought the commenters (I dislike the word "commentators") ought to be spending their time instead comgratulating the athletes on having achieved the level of excellence that is required to even compete in the Olympics. I've heard this argument from other people, including a college housemate who used to get upset if I made what he thought was a negative comment on any of these athletes who, after all, all have me far outclassed, but I don't really agree with it. For one thing, it would get very boring very quickly. For another, the commenters are mostly former athletes themselves in the sport they're reporting on. They know that after each run (or race or routine or game) the athletes are looking back over it, analyzing what they did right, what mistakes were made and what could be improved. I think that's what they're asking about. I have also heard, for example, the speed skater Ohno asked of his gold medal 500-meter race, "You went into that saying you needed a perfect race to win. So was that a perfect race for you?" which doesn't strike me as negative - but then perfect races are the exception, not the rule.
My gold standard, the most fun I've had watching the Olympics and the reason I try to watch them again each time in hopes ef recapturing the experience, is the 1976 Summer Olympics. Night after night my father and I sat in front of the TV, putting together a complicated jigsaw puzzle I can still visualize and watching the gymnastics. He was a former high-school gymnast and I would be one seven years later. (I was never very good, but I think he was.) The enjoyment for us was to pick each routine apart, spotting the mistakes and the things that went well. It turns out an eye for form in gymnastics allows you to critique ice-skating, the snowboarding halfpipe competitions and ski-jumping and, I realized this year, being able to spot a good race strategy in rowing has a lot of application to speedskating, so I enjoy watchig and critiquing all of those sports. What I think both the commenter here and my old housemate don't get is that this doesn't diminish the athletes in our eyes. If I say that the gymnast Olga Olgarovich has split her legs in her layout release from the unevens, or the skater Jane Doevitsch has a bad position in her spin, I'm never for a moment losing sight of her extraordinary skills, the dedication and work she's put into it, or the fact that what she's doing almost but not quite perfectly, I couldn't do at all. Rather, I'm enjoying an analytical exercise, comparing her to her Olympic peers and testing myself against the judges, to see if I can see what they're seeing and spot the tiny differences between competitors that they're spotting - or in a race where form matters, like luge or speedskating or rowing, to see if I can spot the tiny differences that keeps one athlete from catching up with another.
It's similar to when we do a video session out on the lake; we take turns videotaping each other rowing, and then we go watch and critique the video. If Rudder or She-Hulk or Dr. Bosun tells me I'm beding my arms too soon during the drive, or using too much body angle or whatever, it doesn't mean they think I'm a bad rower. It means they see where I can get better. And when they tell me about it, I thank them. My non-expert criticism will never do any of the Plympic athletes any direct good, but it won't harm them either, and it's made in much the same spirit.
Posted by dichroic at February 28, 2006 02:08 PM