Not like I’m anywhere remotely close to Olympian athletic prowess here. At all.

And, not like I’d mind if I was. Who doesn’t wish they had some ridiculous talent, be that in athletics or music or art … or what have you. Take your pick.

TC never hesitates to voice his disappointment that none of us showed any real talent, except Brother {the first one}. It’s true so that comment never bothers me.

Instead, I decided that my real talent would be remarking on others’ real talent as to keep the expectations low on me so I would pleasantly surprise. Who knows, maybe writing about random shit and having What You Be is my real talent. That’d be pretty great, because really that would mean my real talent is just being me.

What a relief.

Now that the Olympics have arrived, I’m feeling all sorts of inspiration. It comes at a perfect time, in the midst of this damn cold winter. A great example being yesterday.

Brother and I took the dogs out for a walk. We had to trudge through quite a bit of snow — talk about a heart rate increaser, my Lawdy! — and hit quite a few hills, which is very challenging for me in my preggo, carrying an extra 14 in the front state. Oh yeah, have I mentioned that? Extra 14, watch out!

My legs felt like they didn’t want to move. The hills took a toll on me. I was feeling slow and kinda useless and wanted to turn around, when I thought of all those Olympians. Busting their ass in freezing temps to train and what have you and here I am, on some menial walk, of all things!

Yes, I’m preg, but still. I can make it on a walk. And make it I did. We did 3.7 miles in one hour, which I thought was damn good considering how freezing it was, the snow and the hills.

Thanks for that, Olympians. It was all you I channeled.