I’ve never been much of an athlete. Even using the word “much” in that sentence is a stretch. I have never played a sport in my whole life. I can’t toss an object to someone across the room without risking injury. I can’t play pool without looking like I’m having a stroke. Even walking up a flight of stairs can leave me out of breath (I refuse to discriminate against elevators).
However, I do love attention. And you know who gets a lot of attention? Athletes. Especially Olympic athletes. If you go to the Olympics, you’re an overnight celebrity. Everyone from your high school pretends they know you, and every one of your exes curses the day they left you. I also think it’s a requirement that you gain a key to the city. And eternal happiness.
But how could I, she who has not been inside a gym in years, transform into an Olympic athlete? Sure, I could dedicate my life to a sport. I could spend day after day sweating, doing pushups, getting all “eye of the tiger.” But I am lazy. And if I’m getting to the Olympics, it’s not going to be through strenuous “hard work.” And that’s when I found it: Race. Walking.
I watched this “sport,” and my eyes widened thinking of that sweet, sweet Olympic gold medal. As the athletes glided their hips in that weird little conga movement, I realized I’ve been training my whole life for this. This is a sport that moms do with strollers everyday. Just without the stroller. Or shapeups. How hard could it be?
I’m going to infiltrate my way into race walking. And from there I will race walk my little un-athletic, soft body into the Olympics. I have a plan, but it will be hard for me. I sweat Diet Coke. Guys who are fit freak me out. But yes, I will be an athlete.
Like any good athlete does, first, I will start my journey to the Olympics by buying all of the cute water bottles at Target, then pinning some motivational quotes onto my “skinny betch” Pinterest board. Body and mind, people. I will spend maybe one weekend out of the month doing race walking’s iconic “I’m about to pee my pants walk” around my neighborhood. And once I transform Nike montage style, I will listen to a lot of uplifting Katy Perry songs.
I must say, I don’t know why nobody else thought of this sooner. I’ve seen movies. I saw Stick It. Those gymnasts give their whole lives just for the tiny chance that they may compete in the Olympics. Well I hate to break it to you ladies, but in 2020 when you’re walking down that track with Team USA in the opening ceremony, with your abs and skills, I’ll be standing there right next to you, with my underboob cellulite and quickly emerging spider veins. And that’s the kind of thing that truly represents this country, finding an easy way in, and scamming your way to the top..
Image via YouTube