I think it’s a safe assumption to say that we’re all familiar with that intense and liberating sensation that you get when you’re at a music festival. You’re standing directly in front of the stage, screaming the lyrics and jumping around like an overexcited teenager while your favourite band plays. You tingle all over. ‘This is the best day ever!’ Free as a bird and high on life – you wish it could last forever. Multiply that tenfold. That is the thrill that is to see the Olympics live.
Even for the average ‘I’m not particularly into sport’ kind of gal, (read my previous post on sports personalities here) being part of the crowd, cheering on your team(s) and feeling like a part of their world, their victory, their loss even – well it’s a unique experience to say the least. And not to mention, quite possibly a once in a lifetime opportunity.
“OOH! Defesa! OOH! Defesa!” Even the shyest of us can turn into a crazed Brazilian hooligan when triggered by the right catalyst. But then…..then – there’s the climax of the entire trip. The icing on the cake. The moment you will savour for the rest of your life. “Sssshhhhhh”. Like a reverse Mexican wave, silence falls over the stadium. And then ‘BANG!’ They’re off. Like a lightning bolt, he’s literally the fastest man in the world. You watch him intently, in awe, with your jaw dropped. Regal. Superior. Divine. You shudder. And then in a matter of seconds, it’s all over. You’re left feeling both incredibly stimulated, but at the same time, so terribly mortal. Damn. I wish I was super human too.
Early morning starts followed by late night finishes – I soaked up each minute and enjoyed every single second of it. Buzzing and energised from the colourful Rio atmosphere, I hurried from game to game feeling all of excited, privileged and grateful. But first and foremost I felt alive. This world is my oyster and I’m gonna suck every last drop of life out of it. If tomorrow never comes, will it know how much I loved it?