Olympics Crazy or Just Crazy?

I like the rest of the world (or the rest of the world with a TV and a slight interest in sports, patriotism or both) have been hooked on the Olympics. But the tape delay is killing me. And you can't get on Facebook, Google or anything without having the results spoiled. Hell, I couldn't even open my US Weekly app looking for the latest on Robert Pattinson's broken heart without spoiling the women's all-around results.

Pre-Olympics my friend Greg mentioned that he had heard the opening ceremony included Mary Poppins beating Voldemort in a battle. I laughed and asked him if he had heard this from a crack head because the British wouldn't possibly be interested in that.

I was wrong.

Now that gymnastics (at least the really riveting stuff) is over and swimming is winding down, what is there left to watch? Do you notice how everyone suddenly because an expert in odd sports they'd never bother with otherwise? My husband's random water polo trivia enthralled my co-workers at lunch. mostly because we couldn't believe how large some of the US players were and how vicious that sport is. There were boobs just popping out from the scrambles.

What's been your favorite thing from this Olympics? I probably should say something meaningful like Phelps's new all-time Olympic medal record or the first African-American all-around champion in gymnastics. But I'm instead going to say it is thus far a tie between watching one woman stomach punch another under the water at water polo and any hot male swimmer.

Speedo, You Let Me Down

Perhaps I didn't read closely enough, because I bought a Speedo swim cap yesterday to protect my faux red hair from the harsh realities of chlorine and it did not help.

Chef mentioned that swimming was a great workout and that since I had some hip issues, we have access to a pool and I'm looking for new ways to workout, it might be a good idea to swim some laps. He had good points on all of that, but my one counter was my hair. I pay good money to keep it as red as possible for as long as possible, so protection for my investment was going to be needed. Hence, the Speedo swim cap.

I put the darn thing on. It smooshed my head. My hair was back in a low knot, pressing against the nape of my neck. I looked like a giant blue condom tip. I was ready to go.

After about 10 minutes of slicing through the water with my arms as the blades (okay, so it was MUCH less graceful than that, but still. . .), I knew that my hair was already soaked.

The swimming was nice, though. Chef came down to get a workout too and keep me company. He also served to motivate me. Typically his presence alone gets me to up the workout ante, so to speak. Amazing how much harder you work when you're trying to impress someone you love. It's the "Hey, Mom! look at me!" syndrome as adults.

I have a feeling that I'll end up swimming some more in the near future, so if anyone has a suggestion for a better swim cap that will actually keep my hair dry, let me know!