The journey of a thousand push-ups starts with a list.
I haven't paid the slightest attention to the Olympic games in years. Maybe since the Sarajevo games when I was fourteen. I've blamed it largely on the shift to biannual intervals, or an ex-pat's ambivalence over nationalism. Something's been missing for me. It's felt diluted.
Well, it turns out that adulthood was the only thinning agent, because nothing can re-ignite a long extinguished Olympic spirit like a nine-year-old boy who is on fire with it.
Since the opening ceremonies on Friday night, we have all been caught up in the excitement of the games. Some of us a little more fervently than others:
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