If you have talked to me in the past 12 days, you know that I am addicted to the Olympics. My bed times is normally 10:00 pm, but that time has been temporarily moved to 12:00 am.
So last week was all about Michael Phelps. He had goals to accomplish and the whole country (well, the whole world, for that matter) was cheering him on. He performed like the champion he is. Everything went exactly as planned, and he didn't miss a single beat in his quest. Even when his goggles filled with water, he counted his strokes as he made his way to the wall ahead of his competitors.
But the same cannot be said for Lolo Johnson. She was the favorite to win the 100 M hurdles. She was tearing it up... until hurdle #9. She clipped it with her right foot, and that was the end for her. What a heart breaking finish, eh? I watched as she stared at the screen in disbelief with what had just happened. There is another shot of her (after her gracious interview) where she is alone... crying. Very sad.
But then there is Dawn Harper. For her, Lolo's defeat meant golden victory. Her disbelief equaled Lolo's... but for completely different reasons. You could see all over her face that she did not expect to win. But the joy on her face when it set in. There was a moment (that I have not been able to find a picture of) where I swear she is praising God. Everything about her body language, face, etc. screams "Thank you, God." It was a great moment for her.
It is events like this that fuel my addiction to the Olympics.