My Very Own Sochi Olympics Moment


Watching the Olympics this year, we have witnessed some thrills, spills and heart racing finishes. When we were kids, we used to get dressed up in work out clothes and pretend to be in the Olympics. Now that I’m older, I just enjoy watching them. But much like when you’re around someone with an accent and you start speaking like them, when you watch non-stop athletes competing, you kinda start acting like them too.

I found this out by accident when my husband took me out for Valentine’s Day. Not getting out much since we have three little ones, I decided to wear my favorite high heel boots. Our reservations were for a place where they have peanut shells on the ground, so I am not quite sure why I thought I needed to dress up. Anyhow, that combined with my high heel boots caused me to slip and almost fall on the way in. I grabbed my husband and told him he needed to hold my hand at all times so I wouldn’t fall.

Dinner was great. We had made plans to meet some friends for drinks afterward and were running late, so we paid and quickly made our way to the door. Suddenly, I felt like I had ice skates on as my right knee locked and my foot began sliding out from under me. Like landing on a toe pick after a quadruple lutz, I was like a door hinge without a door stop and nothing slowed me down from slamming onto my right side. My hip made full contact and my head was inches away from a pile of high chairs. I heard gasps. People above us at their tables stood up to look down at me and finally, I felt my husband help me up.

Of course, I was absolutely mortified. I flashed back to the brave USA ice skater, Jeremy Abbott, whom I saw fall earlier that day and understood his pain. I clung to my husbands hand and with my head down, hustled out of there, never wanting to return. Although like Jeremy, I had hit the deck hard and looked like I wouldn’t be able to get up, he picked himself up off the ice and finished his routine brilliantly to a standing ovation. Unfortunately, that’s where the comparison ends. I too, bravely got up, but heard no applause. No whistles or cheers of encouragement. Instead, there was silence. I guess old dreams die hard. Or fall hard…

(photo courtesy of Valerie Cantone/