broken hearts and shattered dreams ...

I’m going to launch straight into it. I haven’t bothered blogging because a) I have been glued to the Olympics and b) the rest of the world has been glued to the Olympics and thus are not reading blogs. Of course, the best part of the past two weeks has been the Olympics, but (sob) the worst part is that Ryk Neethling cut out my heart with a rusty Olympic ring and left it on the side of the aquatic centre pool in London.

How did he break my heart? He told me (OK, he didn’t so much tell 'me' as tweeted it) that ‘Jakabos in lane 2 is probably the best-looking girl in the pool. Wow’.  My shredded heart is devastated even more by the fact that it's bad enough that he's no idea that I exist but, now, so do his 26 296 followers. (Still, at least I’m not in crush with Le Clos. Looking at all his retweets that poor lad is getting inundated with all kinds of unreasonable requests of love from every far-flung corner of the globe).

Obviously, I had to go and Google (a.k.a. stalk) this Jakabos destroyer-of-dreams-crusher-of-crushes. I found out that she is Hungarian and that her name is Zsuzsanna. (Exhibit A)

I know right? Super cool name with, like, TWO Z’s in it. Nothing could have prepared me for the magnificence of this girl.  Firstly, she must be bionic or something because she has one of the most incredible bodies I have ever seen (*makes plans to take up swimming again, IMMEDIATELY*). 

Secondly, she has a gorgeous face.  I’m pretty sure that it’s not within the natural order of things to be blessed with talent, tenacity AND good looks.  It just seems a bit greedy to me.  However, the alarming thing that these games have revealed is that Jakabos is just one of MANY of these good-looking-talented-tenacious types.

Take her fellow countryman, Daniel Gyurta for instance. (Exhibit B)

Do they breed these fabulous genes in a Petri dish? I actually watched the race where Daniel won Gold for 200m breaststroke (I try to not get carried away at the thought of the word ‘breast-stroke’.) He’s a machine. A good looking, well oiled, machine.

Watching these beautiful, hard-working, talented people made me realise that sadly, the list of events that I could potentially take part in one day, is diminishing with every passing four years. 

Firstly, I had to eliminate all the events that require small, tight outfits.  This was very disappointing because mostly, those are the events that I'd really like to do. Swimming’s out because the new swimsuits (though well covered enough in the well-covered area) would surely force my third and forth boobs to be revealed. The same goes for the diving and synchronized swimming suits. Way too high cut below and way to low cut above. In short, all aquatic related suits are certainly NOT made with any bust whatsoever in mind. 

Gymnastics is also a no-go. Although I’m implying that the leotards (they’re shiny now, did you notice that?) are the only issue, truthfully, it’s more than that. I have a clear image in my mind of me trying to mount the beam: I look something like a small, chubby puppy trying to climb a rather large step. 

Athletics is definitely out. The athletics’ hot-slash-boykini pants on me would cause people to weep.  The thought of running in such small attire causes me immediate and irreversible panic – I could think of nothing more horrific (other than running naked, that is.)

For reasons best kept to myself, I've also had to eliminate all sports that involve balls and other kids of equipment (paddles, hammers, discuses, javelins etc. Clue: extreme awkwardness of navigating anything other than my own body in space.)

Here’s the list of events I could possibly entertain working towards:

Archery :       Good outfits but I’m battling as it is with permanent lines on my face, that ‘archery-sneer’ will only make things worse.

Basque pelota:        This sounds good. I have no idea what it is but it sounds very French and sophisticated.  I expect it involves skills like how to ash your cigarette in a sexy way and that it could even involve something like a lunch break. Yes, I think I could manage this one. (Exhibit C)

Equestrian:          Although I’d love to try and pull off the whole hat and crop look (who wouldn’t?) since my run-in with BA (Bad Attitude) in Argentina I think I’ll give anything involving horses a wide berth.

Fencing :          Now this I could get into.  I’d not only be fully clothed, but my face would be covered so that if I make a fool of myself nobody will know who I am. Also, white’s my colour. Yes. Tick for fencing.

Jeu de paume :      This sounds fiercely fun. Is it perhaps some kind of endurance cheerleading? (paume is French for pompom, right?)

Shooting:         Actually no. Just no.

Judo and Taekwondo: Truthfully, I'd just want to do these for the bowing at the beginning and the end. I’ve been working on the right facial expression and everything.

Softball:  To match my soft arse?  Think I’ll give it a miss.

Roque:  Again, no idea what this is but it sounds like it might involve tying rope into different kinds of dangerous knots.

Croquet: Yes. But only if we get to mill around, speak posh, wear pretty frocks and have loads of pink gins.

Now that I look at it, I’m not sure that Wikipedia's 'list of Olympic Events' is to be believed because I'm quite certain that I didn’t see coverage of any croquet or all those French named sports. (Another Olympic Mystery? No matter what time of day there was always weightlifting on?)

Anyhow, I’m off to buy my very first pack of cigarettes (ever) so that I can get working on that old Basque pelota before Rio 2014.  See you on the Olympic flipside.

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