Two events are creeping onto the radar this week - Valentine's Day and the one-year 2010 Games countdown. Both seem to capture my attention and deserve a mark on the calendar.
Valentine's Day is an often-dreaded and much-celebrated excuse for consuming pounds of chocolate. The 2010 Games are an opportunity to muster up national pride for Canada's best athletes. At first glance they seem polar opposites, but the similarities run deep.
The existence of the Olympics and Valentine's Day are both the result of slick marketing campaigns. Without the pink hearts splattered across storefronts or slick televised medal ceremonies, both events might gasp go unnoticed.
Billions of dollars are poured into broadcast rights, romantic movies, athlete development, and heart-shaped candies to make us stop in our tracks.
Becoming an Olympian requires a lifetime of dedication, training and practice. It is the culmination of everything inspirational. Valentine's Day celebrations are also a work in progress. We start in Elementary school with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle Valentine's - to tell that special someone they are a "hero in a half shell." It is the start of a life-long training program that continues well beyond 50th wedding anniversaries.
The Olympics are the climax of all that is sport. They are winners and losers. Getting a gold medal requires a competitive streak. Love is the same. Romance is a sport in which you need to play the game in order to get the prize. The "one" has to be worth the risk of handing out a cheesy Valentine's card or fistful of flowers. It often requires a nauseating amount of risk, similar to flying head first down a skeleton track.
Directness is needed in both romance and high performance sports. Beating around the bush simply does not cut it. Directness and openness seems to be the most honest and efficient way to go. Taking a chance on someone or pursuing that millisecond of speed requires focus and confidence. It is living in the moment.
Both events also invite a certain amount of awkwardness. In that final halfpipe run when Canada's best snowboarder lands on his head, spectators look away slightly embarrassed. When that Valentine's card goes unopened, both parties stare at their feet in awkward silence.
The Olympics seem to embody are certain amount of innocence. The goals of many athletes stem from a simple love of sport.
Romantic love also carries innocence. I like to think of it as a decision to serve one another through life. It is not meant to be easy. It is a bit of a paradox. When we become too self-obsessed, the whole deal crumbles like a figure skater falling out of a triple axel.
Each event receives an enormous amount of print. Books on Valentine's Day litter the shelves of bookstores and stories of the Olympic moments are splattered across newspapers worldwide.
So make Valentine's Day an "Olympic" moment. Before buying that box of chocolates, go for the gold and include a card or something.
In the word's of love expert Napoleon Dynamite "girls like guys with skills."
