So good they named it twice.

20.12.2012.  I love these magic dates, it makes me feel like there might be a reason for the world.  I therefore find the notion that it might end tomorrow highly suspect. Let's hope I'm right, not least because you'd miss out on the remainder of my twelve in 2012 blog posts!

Today I'm going to give you two things (huzzah!), because what else could I write about on 20.12.2012?

The Olympics.

I still don't have enough good words to describe how much I loved the Olympics.  I tried a bit here, but really I didn't do it justice.  From start to end, I just loved it.  I recently reviewed the tweets that I sent during the opening ceremony and they get increasingly excited and shouty with extensive overuse of the exclamation mark  

OMG, IT'S THE BLOODY QUEEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and so forth. Until Macca came on, then I gave up and went to bed. 

Generally, I remember doing an awful lot of crying and feeling very proud to be British.  I mean what could be better?  We had Super Saturday - Rutherford, Jess, MO! 

EPIC

We had Andy Murray finally winning, WINNING! on the courts at Wimbledon, we had people breaking records, personal, Olympic.  We saw the magnificent Michael Phelps showing that he still had what it takes to be a superstar, both in the water and out, triumphant in victory, extraordinarily gracious in defeat.  We had the wonderful Clare Balding, the delicious Ian Thorpe and the magnificent Bert Le Clos.  I don't think I have ever felt so amazingly proud of my country, something that we don't seem to feel massively comfortable with expressing, we reserved Brits.  We welcomed the world to our small, tiny little island and we outdid ourselves.  What could be better than that?  I'll tell you......

The Paralympics

In 2012, the Paralympics came home.  First hosted in Stoke Mandeville to rehabilitate disabled veterans, this year the Paralympic Games hit the big time.  Usually seen as secondary to the Olympics, London 2012 smashed all previous records for ticket sales, as London got behind disabled athletes like never before.  This year, the Paralympics were never going to be the little brother.

I LOVE this.

Clearly the high profile of athletes such as Oscar Pistorius (SWOOOOOOON) helped to generate interest, but I think it would also be fair to say that none of us wanted to admit that the summer was over and we were ready to get behind our Greatest Team to see a second round of sporting excellence.  Some of the best performances for me were Oscar Pistorius (I LOVE YOUUUUUU OSSCAAAAAAAAAR!), Jonnie Peacock, David Weir, Hannah Cockcroft, Richard Whitehead and of course, Ellie Simmonds.

I was lucky enough to get tickets to a couple of sessions at the Olympic Park, one for the athletics and another for the swimming.  The athletics session was in the morning, so heats rather than finals.  But I got to see a great variety of classifications, so it was fantastic.  I saw David Weir win his 800m heat and that was an enormous thrill as I've enjoyed watching him compete in the London Marathon for quite a while now.  But funnily enough, that is not the memory that remains the most vivid.  That honour falls to the T11-13 men's 4 x 100m relay heats.  A T11-13 classification is for visually impaired athletes who may run with a sighted guide.

Before the first heat started there was an announcement.  We were asked to be silent throughout these races, as each athlete needed to be able to hear his guide, especially at the point where they needed to pass the baton to the next runner.  We were then told that we could start cheering once the last handover had been completed and all runners were on the final straight.

The gun went on the first heat.  The atmosphere in that packed out stadium was incredible.  Try to imagine the swell of energy generated by 80,000 people, on the edge of their seats, urging on these athletes, silently, but with every fibre of their being.  Try to imagine the explosion of noise that erupted when the last baton handover was complete and we were finally able to vocalise the emotion and excitement that we were feeling.  It was absolutely incredible and best of all, we got to do it all over again a couple of times as the heats played out.  I don't think that I have ever experienced such an intense, highly charged event as that, and I'm so glad that I got to feel a part of it.

That'll do for now.  But watch out for the next exciting instalment of twelve in 2012!

Legacy

I'm so sad the Games are over. It's been such a wonderful summer and I've been so inspired by the dedication, determination and athleticism that I've seen over the past few weeks.  Haven't we all?

I've been thinking about the legacy of these Games and what that means to me.  And I've come to the conclusion that it's about so much more than sport, and is more vital even than our changing attitudes towards disability (although I believe that is very important). 

I feel like the Games have brought out the best in us.  As individuals.  As a nation.  For the past few weeks we've been better than our usual selves.  We have seen value and felt joy at real people, achieving real things, sometimes against the odds and confounding all expectations.  We've laughed, we've cried, we've urged athletes on to victory with every fibre of our being.  We've felt the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.

If we can take one thing away from this summer, I'd like it to be that we all try to keep being these best versions of ourselves.  Isn't that what the elite athletes, both Olympic and Paralympic, strive towards every day?  To be the best that they can be?  I think we can learn a lot from that, whatever "best" means to each of us.  So I plan to keep a little 'lympic flame burning in my chest and to try to be my best self, each and every day.  I won't get it right every time, sometimes I'll have to settle for being out of the medals. but that won't stop me from trying.

What does the London 2012 legacy mean to you?

In which I go for a swim

After the excitement of meeting Paula Radcliffe last Wednesday, you'd have thought that my week couldn't get any better.  I certainly didn't think it could. But boy, was I wrong.

Last Saturday morning I was on Twitter and saw a series of tweets from Australian Olympic legend Ian Thorpe saying that he would be heading to Tooting Bec Lido on Sunday morning to give swimming tips to people, to get the London 2012 legacy started before he headed home.  Well who would turn down an offer like that?  So I enlisted R, a friend of mine from my swimming days and we arranged to get the train and head up there together.

So Sunday morning saw me get up at five o'clock in the morning to walk Murdoch before I left to get the train.  Oof, super early for a Sunday, it wasn't even fully light, but luckily I was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise.  What a great start to the day.

Good morning!

I had just enough time to feed Murdoch, run in and out of the shower and drive up to Guildford station to get the first train of the morning heading towards London.  I met R outside the station and we got on the train.  Once again I found myself getting off the train at Clapham Junction, but this time the connections were much smoother, no delays and we got on the bus towards Tooting Bec.  And got off it a mile too early.  Oops.  But luckily we had plenty of time to walk to the lido, so no harm done.  

We arrived at around 8.30, in plenty of time and got to watch a weekly race that has apparently taken place for the last 100 years.  Great stuff.  Then Ian Thorpe arrived.  Wow.  What a guy.  On TV he's pretty great, but in real life, he glows.

He gave swimming lessons to all kids that wanted them and then he let a couple of groups of adults have a go.  And one of them was me.

First of all we had the chance to chat to him and ask some questions and then it was time to get in the water! We swam a short way so that Ian could see our stroke and give us some tips.

There I am in the yellow hat!

He advised me that I need to get more movement in my hips, so the next length, I tried to do exactly that and promptly swam in a diagonal line across the pool.  When I raised my head and realised that I'd done that, I treated Ian Thorpe to my loudest cackle.  Oops.  But it was great advice, I'm already getting better extension with my arms.  R also got some great tips and we had an amazing girl in our group who had only learned to swim breaststroke at the beginning of the year taking the first few tentative steps towards front crawl.  Phenomenal.

All too soon it was over, but we had enough time for a quick photo with the Thorpedo.

*excited face*

What a great day.  Ian was really kind and patient, brilliant with the kids and a genuinely nice bloke.  What a fantastic way to kick of a fantastic UK swimming legacy after 2012.

Playing the Game

I've been thinking quite a bit about the Olympic badminton fiasco.  You heard about this, right?  In case you haven't, this is the story about eight badminton players being disqualified from the competition for "not using one's best efforts to win".  I didn't watch the matches, but essentially these players were deliberately playing badly so that they would lose their doubles match and therefore get an easier draw in the next round, easing their way through to the final.  I agree wholeheartedly with the disqualification because the actions of these players have annoyed and upset me considerably.  This is why.

We talk about athletes across all sports and disciplines "representing their countries".  For many people this is quite an abstract concept, but for me, it feels much more real.  I believe that these athletes, their effort and endeavour, truely represent the people of the country that they are competing for.  They are our finest, our best and they are competing on behalf of each and every single one of us.  Why else do we get so much joy and excitement from their success?  Why else do we feel so deflated when they do not perform as well as they and we had hoped?

In contrast to the attitude we saw from the badminton players, earlier this week we had the British men's rowing eight competing at Dorney, aiming to win the gold medal.  They gave it everything they had, went out like the clappers and risked going home with nothing as a result.  Thankfully they left with the bronze, making the nation proud in the process.  

So I guess my question is, who would you want representing you?  Who do you feel better represents you as a person, as a citizen of your nation?  The participants who seek to make their way through the competition by taking the easy option?  By choosing the path of least resistance?  Or those who hit the finish line leaving everything they have on the floor?  Those who strive for excellence?

I know my preference!  Bring on the British bulldog spirit - grab on and don't let go until the job is done.  Go Team GB!