Half a lifetime ago

Have you been watching the Olympics this week? I have. Big time. I set the DVR to record the primetime coverage, then start watching it a few hours later so I can skip through the commercials and the inane interviews at poolside. Where does NBC get these commentators?

Anyway, even though synchronized diving and beach volleyball aren't exactly iconic Olympic sports, I really enjoy watching these two events. In my mind, diving is the scariest sport ever. How those guys miss hitting their heads on the platform never ceases to amaze me, nor does the fact that their Speedos stay on when they hit the water. And every time I watch Misti May and Kerri make another dig or kill, I'm inspired to run out in the corral for a pick-up game with the boys.

I was ecstatic yesterday when Kayla Harrison won the first Olympic gold medal ever for the U.S. in judo. Yeah, I'm weird. Judo is one of those obscure sports that nobody cares about, even during the Olympics. But I used to care about it very much – some would say too much.

Way back in 1980, my then husband and I decided we needed to find a hobby we could share, so we looked in the local recreation center catalogue for a class that might pique our interest. We signed up for Beginning Judo. He dropped out after the first week and switched to Chinese Cooking, but I was hooked. I would study judo three nights a week while he went to cooking class, then come home and eat his homework. Win win!

The teacher of my class, Jim Takemori, happened to be the coach of the U.S. women's judo team at the time, and he had four daughters who were all champions. They became my training partners, and the next thing I knew, I was traveling with them all over the country to compete. Everyone I knew thought I was nuts, particularly my coworkers, who would see the black eyes and the bruises on my legs and think my husband was beating the crap out of me. But I didn't care; I was having too much fun, literally tossing people around.

I was 29 in this picture, at my fighting weight of 63 kg. That was the part about judo that sucked – you had to make weight before every competition. But I loved everything else about it – the discipline required to master a throw, the strength and stamina needed to outlast an opponent, and the confidence it gave me to take on anything or anyone. I lived and breathed the sport for six years before an injury got in the way and I gave it up, but I carry its lessons with me to this day.

So, Kayla Harrison, I salute you. I'm sure your friends and coworkers probably think you should have devoted your life to a more lucrative sport, but some of us most of us weren't built for gymnastics.