Olympic-Sized Hangover

Such a depressing sight!  The flame no longer burns bright in Great Britain.

The Olympic flame has guttered and died in London, which makes me very sad.  My honey and I were devoted Olympic watchers for all seventeen days of the London Olympics.  Every evening, no matter what else was going on, we turned on the Olympic coverage (in HD, of course, as my honey does love his new HD channels). 

Some Olympic sports we loved like beach volleyball, regular volleyball, and gymnastics.  Okay, I loved and he tolerated gymnastics.  We also loved swimming, diving, and most of the track and field events.  We cheered on the world's best as they shone brightly under the Olympic flame.  Didn't matter if the best of the best was American or British or Jamaican or Ugandan, we were excited to see world class athletes in their element.  We cheered for Usain Bolt as he set world records as the world's fastest man.  We cheered for Mo Farrah as he won the 10K and 5K races.  We applauded the Ugandan winner of the marathon that made his country's first medal ever in the Olympics a gold one.  We roared for Michael Phelps, Missy Franklin, and Ryan Lochte as they flew through the waters of the Olympic Park Aquatics Centre.

I was yelling so loudly during the marathon that
 my honey thought I'd hurt myself and came racing downstairs.

Some events, we enjoyed for their novelty, like wrestling with Azerbaijan's men showing their might.  We liked high jump and pole vault with all the athletic contortionists.  We tried to follow the triple jump with its confusing rules and weight lifting, but only when that one guy nearly snapped his own neck.  Water polo became a particular daytime viewing favorite.  My honey says it's like hockey without the ice and the hockey commentators kept calling it vicious and brutal.

At what point does it change from being a foul in the pool
to being an attempted drowning?

Finally, some sports we watched just to make fun of (him) or to royal watch (me) like the equestrian events with the Queen's granddaughter, Zara Philips, competing for Great Britain.  Anything synchronized was usually good for either fascination (diving) or laughter (swimming).  But, the ultimate in Olympic ridiculousness, by far, had to be rhythmic gymnastics.  How in the H-E-double hockey sticks is running around with a ribbon on a stick an Olympic sport?!?!  I did that in my living room when I was seven.  Anybody going to give me a medal?

This is an Olympic sport for individuals and teams?

The cheers and the tears, the world records and the disqualifications, the Olympic tattoos and medals proudly displayed on the Today show - all of it is over.  It's left a hole in our lives.

Thank goodness for

Let a new set of games begin!

And just for anyone who needs extra activities to accompany their Shark Week viewing...