Edge of Joy

Crash and burn.

The world winces, knowing it hurts, realizing it's a dream slipping through fingers.

Watching the Olympics and seeing so many athletes hit a gate, lose their balance, catch an edge - all leading to an irrecoverable run or routine, I wondered how they could get up and keep going.

In the case of Anja Paerson of Sweden, the horrific downhill crash on a course that sent five competitors tumbling, commentators considered her questionable for the rest of the Olympics. But Paerson was back in the starting gate, facing the same hill she'd crashed down and this time she took the bronze medal despite the lingering pains and contusions Whistler had left on her body.

Fall, recover, keep going. Repeat. It's the way of these games.Crazy? Maybe. But I really think it's about love. When I watched skiiers and skaters crash only to return to the very site of the disaster, asking myself: How can they go on? I decided it's not because of duty or obligation, it's because their sport is what they truly love. They have to do it, not for any of us who are watching, but for themselves.

Any challenge worth the blood, the sweat, the tears requires passion for the work at hand. It's why we'll do anything to pursue our dreams. And it's why when we're beaten and bruised, holding only hope in our hands, we'll stand at the gates of fate and beg for more.

Death Spiral

Last night I had the pleasure of watching several hours of Olympics with a friend who is a figure skating enthusiast. Okay that's an understatement. She's a giddy, giggling, stars in her eyes fangirl. As someone who only occasionally watches skating, I had to say I was surprised and taken in by all the drama. The world of men's competitive skating resembles a nest of snakes. Of course the media is playing it up - even so, from snarky challenges to extreme costumes ranging from corsetsto overalls
(sidenote: Cinna would put them ALL to shame - if you don't know who Cinna is for goodness sake get to your library/bookstore and read Hunger Games!) this icy arena is not for the timid.

It got me to thinking about the nature of fandom. Our favorite books, music, art reflect something about our personalities. We enthuse not only because of our deep love for say BUFFY, but also because the relationship of fan to art creates a sense of ownership and participation.

The Olympics is spectatorship on a global scale. I wonder if our favorite Olympic events are a little like those personality quizzes (What Gossip Girl are you? What color is your aura?) My skatefan friend is a fashionista and film scholar and as we watched the drama unfolding on the Olympic ice her enthusiasm for the event made a lot of sense.
My favorite winter Olympic event is pairs skating.



I love the beauty of the symmetry in their skating, the cooperation, the lifts, the throws - but my favorite moment lasts less than a minute. It's the death spiral.I wait through every program for this brief component, which to me is the perfect balance of strength and surrender. And the name? Brilliant!

Loving the death spiral as I do seems a perfect encapsulation of my writing style - I write characters who struggle with power and relationships. I love romancy angsty rollercoaster rides of relationships and the pairs skating programs evoke a similar tension.

What do you think? Do our Olympic event allegiances say something about who we are?