dara torres wins and aging women worldwide cheer, jump, scream, cry and go to the gym!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I’ll admit it. I’m not going to pretend. The mirror is no longer my friend. What once offered itself as a reminder of youth, promise and potential has turned into a daunting reflection of bygone years, struggles and service.
I looked at it again this morning . . . and cringed.
Welcome to being a woman.
The lines may appear light and small underneath a pound, or two – or ten, of make-up (am I right, ladies? We DO try) --- but I still see them . . . each one carved out for its own reason . . . its own worry ---- each child’s illness that was nursed, every bag of groceries chosen and carried, every diaper changed, every relationship choice of your child considered with concern, each college application sent in . . . every desire of the heart put on hold, yet once again, for the more pressing need of the moment.
I looked at it again this morning . . . and cringed.
Welcome to being a woman.
The lines may appear light and small underneath a pound, or two – or ten, of make-up (am I right, ladies? We DO try) --- but I still see them . . . each one carved out for its own reason . . . its own worry ---- each child’s illness that was nursed, every bag of groceries chosen and carried, every diaper changed, every relationship choice of your child considered with concern, each college application sent in . . . every desire of the heart put on hold, yet once again, for the more pressing need of the moment.
Time flies amidst the strains, and – don’t misunderstand me --- also the joys, of motherhood and of being a wife.
Literally. It flies.
It does.
I saw it.
All 53.78 seconds – last night.
Her name is Dara. Her daughter’s name is Tessa. I tell you that because no woman is known as only herself after having given birth. Of course in announcing her attempt at the U.S. Olympic Swimming Trials for the 100-meter freestyle, NBC did a short video special on Dara, and Tessa, due the unique quality of her Olympic bid.
It wasn’t Dara’s first time to attempt to go to the Olympics. No, she’s gone to the trials four times before and made it every time. Her wall – or closet – or fireplace mantel already holds a colorful bouquet of medals. She’s been a steady figure in women’s swimming over the years.
What made this attempt last night so special was the fact that Dara would be considered by most, respectfully speaking, past her time. At 41 years old, Dara’s bare feet stepped one after the other onto the blocks as the oldest swimmer ever to attempt an Olympic bid. Her stated goal had been simply to make the team. In the 100-meter freestyle, the swimmers only need to finish roughly in the top 6 places of the final race in order to do that. This would secure them a spot on the relay team and a plane ticket to Beijing. Out of the 8 swimmers, Dara had a decent chance of making that goal.
But we ---- we women who watched her – at least I did, hoped for much, much more. Who wanted to see Dara lumber into the finish line in fifth place? Or even sixth? Just to get on the team? I didn’t. No, I locked my eyes on Dara in hopes that she would beat the entire field of swimmers – every last youthful one of them.
Her chances weren’t good to do so, actually, and I knew that. The 100-meter freestyle isn’t Dara’s specialty, by her own admission. It’s a lengthier sprint than the 50-meter, which is her passion, and in that extended lap of the 100-meters – there is time for the effects of aging to atrophy her speed.
Literally. It flies.
It does.
I saw it.
All 53.78 seconds – last night.
Her name is Dara. Her daughter’s name is Tessa. I tell you that because no woman is known as only herself after having given birth. Of course in announcing her attempt at the U.S. Olympic Swimming Trials for the 100-meter freestyle, NBC did a short video special on Dara, and Tessa, due the unique quality of her Olympic bid.
It wasn’t Dara’s first time to attempt to go to the Olympics. No, she’s gone to the trials four times before and made it every time. Her wall – or closet – or fireplace mantel already holds a colorful bouquet of medals. She’s been a steady figure in women’s swimming over the years.
What made this attempt last night so special was the fact that Dara would be considered by most, respectfully speaking, past her time. At 41 years old, Dara’s bare feet stepped one after the other onto the blocks as the oldest swimmer ever to attempt an Olympic bid. Her stated goal had been simply to make the team. In the 100-meter freestyle, the swimmers only need to finish roughly in the top 6 places of the final race in order to do that. This would secure them a spot on the relay team and a plane ticket to Beijing. Out of the 8 swimmers, Dara had a decent chance of making that goal.
But we ---- we women who watched her – at least I did, hoped for much, much more. Who wanted to see Dara lumber into the finish line in fifth place? Or even sixth? Just to get on the team? I didn’t. No, I locked my eyes on Dara in hopes that she would beat the entire field of swimmers – every last youthful one of them.
Her chances weren’t good to do so, actually, and I knew that. The 100-meter freestyle isn’t Dara’s specialty, by her own admission. It’s a lengthier sprint than the 50-meter, which is her passion, and in that extended lap of the 100-meters – there is time for the effects of aging to atrophy her speed.
But this is the Olympics.
Or, at least, the Olympic trials.
And as we all know from past experiences, that changes things.
So I nestled, hopeful, into my couch to watch the race with my husband nearby, mentioning to him as he walked in the room that one of the swimmers in this final is over forty years old. He nodded, his interest peaked. She had already made it down the first lap in good speed but the announcers then began to focus on the younger swimmers at that time – the girls in their early 20’s – who, as they said, had a better chance at finishing out the race strong.
And as we all know from past experiences, that changes things.
So I nestled, hopeful, into my couch to watch the race with my husband nearby, mentioning to him as he walked in the room that one of the swimmers in this final is over forty years old. He nodded, his interest peaked. She had already made it down the first lap in good speed but the announcers then began to focus on the younger swimmers at that time – the girls in their early 20’s – who, as they said, had a better chance at finishing out the race strong.
But my eyes never left lane five: the lane where Dara Torres swam with all of her might.
‘Swim, Dara, swim’ --- my heart pled as my hands began to clap for her.
I saw my husband lean forward as I began to cheer her all the more.
“She’s fading,” he said, concerned.
“Oh no, she’s not,” I replied, determined to will her in, even though she had dropped back a bit.
But then Dara stayed steady down the backstretch awhile more after which something invisible began to propel her and she picked up speed. She gained on the other swimmers, some young enough to be her own biological children. She flew with all she had toward the finish and stretched out with the strength within her to reach the wall . . . FIRST.
The crowd roared. Tessa cheered. The announcers didn’t quite know what to say. Dara herself looked a bit surprised and she said later that age had dulled her eyesight so much that it took her some time to even focus on the scoreboard to see that she had won.
I sat there, stunned. . . clapping . . . tears threatening to come.
She did it. She did it!
Forty-one year old Dara Torres did it.
Not only did she reach her goal of making her fifth Olympic team . . . but she did it by leaving the rest of the swimmers in the wake of her amazing dream.
After having competed already in two rounds of preliminary swims the day before, she later told reporters that she felt “physically whipped” prior to this final. She didn’t think she could win on her body alone, so she made the focus of her strength come from her “heart and soul.”
Take that - you mirror, mirror on my wall.
Take that, I say, to every wrinkle taunting me of the aging call.
Because there is a bit of Dara tucked away in every one of us all.
And when our time has been given to others in such a way that God has ordained . . . and we wake up years later wondering if we might ever have the chance again to follow our own dreams . . . I know I’ll remember lane five. And Dara.
But not only that, I’ll remember verse five as well. And David.
It’s the fifth verse in a Psalm written about a God who knows no limits with time.
David writes,
“Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion
(5) Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.” (psalm 103)
Heart. And soul.
Renewed through the redeeming power of Jesus Christ.
We may never compete in the Olympics – sure, but this truth can propel us through the race of our life.
See you in Beijing.
Peace.
‘Swim, Dara, swim’ --- my heart pled as my hands began to clap for her.
I saw my husband lean forward as I began to cheer her all the more.
“She’s fading,” he said, concerned.
“Oh no, she’s not,” I replied, determined to will her in, even though she had dropped back a bit.
But then Dara stayed steady down the backstretch awhile more after which something invisible began to propel her and she picked up speed. She gained on the other swimmers, some young enough to be her own biological children. She flew with all she had toward the finish and stretched out with the strength within her to reach the wall . . . FIRST.
The crowd roared. Tessa cheered. The announcers didn’t quite know what to say. Dara herself looked a bit surprised and she said later that age had dulled her eyesight so much that it took her some time to even focus on the scoreboard to see that she had won.
I sat there, stunned. . . clapping . . . tears threatening to come.
She did it. She did it!
Forty-one year old Dara Torres did it.
Not only did she reach her goal of making her fifth Olympic team . . . but she did it by leaving the rest of the swimmers in the wake of her amazing dream.
After having competed already in two rounds of preliminary swims the day before, she later told reporters that she felt “physically whipped” prior to this final. She didn’t think she could win on her body alone, so she made the focus of her strength come from her “heart and soul.”
Take that - you mirror, mirror on my wall.
Take that, I say, to every wrinkle taunting me of the aging call.
Because there is a bit of Dara tucked away in every one of us all.
And when our time has been given to others in such a way that God has ordained . . . and we wake up years later wondering if we might ever have the chance again to follow our own dreams . . . I know I’ll remember lane five. And Dara.
But not only that, I’ll remember verse five as well. And David.
It’s the fifth verse in a Psalm written about a God who knows no limits with time.
David writes,
“Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the LORD, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion
(5) Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.” (psalm 103)
Heart. And soul.
Renewed through the redeeming power of Jesus Christ.
We may never compete in the Olympics – sure, but this truth can propel us through the race of our life.
See you in Beijing.
Peace.
