I want to write something about the nature of the elite level of athletic performance we are seeing here. In a small way, I want to answer the question "How good are these people?"
The short answer is very, very, very good. So good that most people can't imagine how good they are. These people are beyond amazing; they are testament to our ability as a species to push ourselves to the very sharpest point of performance.
A case in point: Our family went to watch the Women's Moguls on the first Saturday night of the Games. An Olympic mogul course is about 150m long, 20m wide and has a sustained pitch of around 30%, just slightly less steep than the entrance to some of the steepest runs on Whistler or Blackcomb. These women were completing this beast - in the pouring rain, I must add - in around 30 seconds and they were throwing huge air off two jumps.
I'm a good skier; dare I say, an expert. I can ski any named run on either Blackcomb or Whistler and most of the runs that aren't on the map, too. I can handle myself almost anywhere on the mountain in almost any condition.
These women, though... These women - the worst of these women, the women that finished well, well out of medal contention - these women show me up as the "weekend warrior wannabe" I am. I'd have no chance, not even the slightest, of keeping up with these athletes on a ski hill.
This pointy end of performance is everywhere here: Speed-skaters covering a 1km in 1 minute, from a standing start (Averaging 60km/h over the distance, for the math challenged.), downhill racers catching air, landing and then turning, all at 140km/h... Even the figure skaters (A sport, I must confess, that leaves me flat.) stun we mere mortals with their raw athleticism. It is breathtaking to watch and, right now, that wonder, that beauty, that awesome ability, is concentrated here in Vancouver. It is to weep with joy to behold.
