The real champions of the first prize

This weekend I left the TV on, so I could watch some sports in between everything else which I was doing.

I didn’t really do a lot, though. I was supposed to work, but as I opened the files to do some reviewing and grading it all just felt overwhelming and I postponed it. I sat there for a couple of hours clicking back and forth between files and just wasted a lot of time. Getting more coffee took quite a long time as I dwelled at every piece of distraction I passed by. Pictures I have seen every day for 40 years and such…

Work is still not done, and I know I have to do it real soon, but I am working on a plan which will make it more bearable. I just need to set deadlines and what to do when. Baby steps; but slowly getting there (I keep giving my students new tasks, but that is something I just have to calculate with. Read: ignore for now.)

Anyway, I was “watching” sports. Every time the commentator got excited I ran to the TV to see what was going on. It was cross country skiing and biathlon, sports the Norwegians are usually pretty good at, and there were quite a few exiting moments… and a few medals won. By the Norwegians, I mean (which is what counts).

As a nation we all want to take part in the success and we chant “victory is ours” and “WE won!” as if we all took part in the achievement.

And then and there we all believe it could have been us, it could have been we who were in great shape and as fit as the heroes and sticking out the pain it must be to push the body to its limits and drain every last drop of energy out of the body.

(Of course I know, deep in my heart, I don’t even have enough stamina to even rise from the sofa to get another cup of coffee. Not right now, anyway.)

As I was watching I came to think about what it must cost to be a top-level athlete, or any other outstanding performer of some sort.

Of course they give up many of the pleasures ordinary people find to be the joy of their life. They pick up on routines and diets we have no premises to even comprehend, and yet I can’t help but thinking they must do what they love the most, they pay the price and still want to continue.

By the time they turn old enough to show off results and have a paid apparatus to support them, somebody has already put down a lot of work, money, mileage, gas, time and effort to let them (and at times pushed them) keep on doing the sport they chose.

Somebody has been keeping track of time schedules, practice, training weekends, driven them to games and/or competitions, bought up to date equipment (often to a high expense and sacrificing things they wanted for themselves and others).

They have been out in all kinds of weather conditions, cheering their own and other kids on. Comforting when the kids felt they did badly and bragging like crazy when they did well. (And, perhaps the most impressive aspect of it all: they took on the laundry!)

At the same time they have been responsible for and done a lot of voluntary work raising money and keeping arenas, stadiums, tracks and facilities up to date and in good condition. Not to forget turning up serving as crew whenever an event took place… and I suspect there are quite a few pictures and videos around, showing every feat the children performed.

I am talking about the parents (often to a few of the team members) and the coaches who took on the challenge it is to guide very young children with no sense of discipline or persistence what so ever.

To all the adults who have been there for the kids, who invested themselves in the very young hopeful ones, who saw the talents and encouraged them and made them want to become Champions: CONGRATULATIONS!

The mistake of having a bad look.

For so many years now I have been lost in the magnitude of everything life has thrown my way. I do not think this is something I alone experience; I think we all, to some extent (some more than others, I am sure) find ourselves in that situation.

One day after another just slides into an indefinite time of same old, and we need to think hard to find those little things we find special enough to smile at.

In this process we tend to let ourselves down. The moments of pampering ourselves to charge the batteries and to feel good about ourselves tend to lose priority, as we, in the middle of running race with time, seem to think “I can do it later, it is not as if I will misplace myself. I will be here to be attended to later, but THIS is something I have to do now”.

When we are down and tired it takes more to bring us to the verge of laughter than when we are up and live with a bubble of contentment inside. A bubble just growing more and more into the state of joy, feeding off whatever brings warmth and beauty into our life. It can be anything from a bright flower surviving and showing off in a ditch, to a clean and tidy countertop in our kitchen.

I made up my mind to change what I felt stole my years. I would look around seeing all these stunning women, older than myself, and I had just let myself go at a much younger age. I was wearing myself out thinking I had put myself on hold, letting myself down, not allowing my family to be proud of a mum looking the way she felt. Cause I knew I had a core of something good going for myself. In example: I like my eyes, the color of my eyes is quite nice. That should brought into focus. I just have to find out how, and then do something about it. I am not talking glamorous appearance. Just to look groomed and neat.

I wondered what it would take to become an image of me, who I am, what I stand for.

I have seen makeovers on TV and in magazines and what I see is women (and a few men) who, with small changes in make-up, hairstyle and clothes have maintained their expression but at the same time improved what signal they radiate to their surroundings in a much more positive way.

I am still in the process of researching my options.

There is one thing I know, though: I will not, never ever, do as 7 of my friends have done; I will not use surgery as a tool to improve.

Actually… our ordinary days are the product of our lifestyle. There is nothing wrong about that, but I think we do people around us a disservice if we look like something the cat dragged in from the alley. My only problem is the time issue... nothing really takes long, but when you have more than enough to tend to minutes count, a lot.

We make people we care about feel guilty about it. And guilty feelings never lead to any good. You can tell by all the well-meant comments like: “You should cut your hair shorter…”, “You would look lovely in a skirt like that…”, “That color really would make wonders on you…” And all you hear is nagging and criticism because you are too tired or too preoccupied to (mis-) understand the comments correctly.

For that reason alone I think we owe it to ourselves and to people around us to make an effort and take time to look as if we take care of ourselves too. To not do so would be a mistake, I think… At least that is what I think about that. Today, that is.

“Don't beat yourself up over past mistakes. Hold your head high and dry your tears. A new day is here”.
Unknown quotes