I woke up this morning aching. It wasn't the Charley horse that I received the second I stepped out of bed, which made me think I was going to die. It also wasn't the excruciating stubbed toe I got from falling over my chair. I didn't realize what I was aching from until I went downstairs and glanced at the Vancouver 2010 Olympic DVD my parents bought me for Valentines day. That's when I realized what I was suffering from, at full force: Olympic withdrawal.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixpqkYK_MMY-aZV5W08SNfG3UZCTwdEDl-ZSiQEVpZSazHFmPUJ5dqI9-jGM6UaM8rsgENjNMh-coSonUj4KIrH1khNpyeXdJQBsjd72w3CwamtX5-mu_Rz9fmyQJdr2lM4DOv1grEoGc/s320/5277.olympicsjoannie.jpg-550x0.jpg)
As I popped in the disk, I couldn't help but remember Alexandre Bilodeau's gold medal run, or Joannie Rochette's brave, bronze medal skate. Watching the opening ceremonies, I got a little teary eyed. The beautiful version of "Oh Canada" made me stand up with my hand on my heart. The killer whales that swam across the arena made me want to go whale watching, and the kilt wearing fiddle man made me want to take up highland dancing again. It wasn't until I saw Wayne Gretzky running with torch that I actually started crying. I miss waking up every morning in February, listening to Brian Williams voice tell me about how we were doing. I miss cheering "Loouuuuu!" every waking second of the hockey games, even if Canada isn't playing. I miss how they could bring a country together and I miss no one making fun of me when I walk though the halls of Westdale wearing my Team Canada Crosby jersey; I miss that one more than you will ever know.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd48_fyMpuGgSwjEL4yz7oFM-Npu6Lnj6Egxy6Nx9hr7ifFP1nA7by5hAgFaKxmO1GUufdyk6fGd_PcI1TQF8B65tJ2Uls7o33FONUo3UWZtwkozTPNY2TmH4_U48qKFcsXYBybJAxf6c/s320/2566235.bin.jpeg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoTONh7HUPVj2VUpHOYMMFGytBY9eDPjzPwO7t0xIEkYjKHDzUqUkLJ6ZqUqvr-f7m3QSwYqOxvDkoXr0iACMg3B5O0wSkd_bzZZpEnYrzFOR_6MDks6GLqYDM7OEv9ZmbMUHIKe9D6IQ/s320/tumblr_lhd2tr6Qnn1qe4t8s.jpg)
The memories of ice dancing gold, Patrick Chan and the Golden Goal came flooding back to me as I hugged my stuffed,
Quatchi mascot. Whenever I look at something, I'm reminded by the Olympics. Ice, snow, gold and even the chair in front of the television that I sat on as the Golden Goal was scored remind me of them. But the Olympics were so much more than the medals we won or the legends that were born. It was about coming together as a nation and realizing what we could accomplish. It was about realizing that we were more than just fishing,
Tim Horton's coffees, beavers, zippers and ice hockey. Realizing that we were more than polite people, curlers, mounties and maple syrup tappers. As I was listening to the speech by Shane Koyczan,
I understood that the Olympics were about realizing we should
always, no matter what the circumstances are, be proud to be
Canadian.
No comments:
Post a Comment