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August 13, 2004/Av 26 5763, Vol. 55, No. 47
Olympian - in spirit only
VICKI CABOT
Contributing Editor
Hey, I'm not an athlete. Sure, I go to the gym, run with my dogs, take an occasional hike through the mountain preserve. But contend, contest, compete? Nope. It's not in my makeup.
I grew up in a generation of nice Jewish girls consigned to tap and ballet, acrobatics for the agile, modern dance for the avant-garde. My competitive sports career consisted of junior high field hockey and basketball.
Once I discovered boys, I channeled my enthusiasm to their athletic pursuits rather than mine. I aspired to be a cheerleader - but never made the squad - and eventually gravitated to doubles tennis and to swimming, enamored with the cute white outfits and the prospect of acquiring - and showing off - a golden tan.
So, I can't explain the fever of excitement that overtakes me every four years as the summer Olympics approach. Yes, I've run marathons, enjoying the cheers of the crowd as I stumble over the finish line in less than Olympian time and the adulation of passers-by the next day as I limp around in a finisher T-shirt. But I recall approaching the 13-mile marker of my first New York Marathon as front-runner Grete Waitz was completing the 26.2-mile course.
So much for my athletic prowess.
But the allure of the games remains. I realize it's not what I do. It's what others can. It's the wonder at the seemingly boundless human potential to throw further, jump higher, swim faster - and acceptance and appreciation of my own God-given abilities.
I am in awe of super swimmer Michael Phelps, despite the incredible hype the 19-year-old superstar receives; of runner Maurice Greene, despite his own inflated boasts of success; of Marion Jones, despite deepening implication of her in the doping scandals and her diminishing prospects for Olympic gold. I'm taken with swimmer Katie Haff, soccer great Mia Hamm, gymnast Paul Hamm and countless others.
I'll be rooting for Jewish backstroker Lenny Krayzelburg, the Russian-born Californian. I'll be watching the Israeli athletes, but with unsettling memories of the 1972 Munich massacre and knowledge that Greece has laid out an astronomical $1.5 billion for security for this year's games. I'll be looking out for Sanaa Abu Bkheet, the 19-year-old Palestinian runner from Gaza, and five Afghani athletes who are flexing newfound freedom, as well as might, on the fields of Olympia.
I revel in the promise of young athletes who find direction and purpose on the track, in the ring, in the pool; in the glimmer of hope for peace and understanding inherent in the games' international scope; in the universal dreams of realizing human possibility, of surpassing human limitation.
So I'll be tuning in, entranced by muscle and motivation, by speed and endurance, by victory and defeat - and heartened by the flame of the Olympic spirit.
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