I thought it was going to kill me!

Yesterday my oldest two children wanted to go see our neighbors skate. They're speed skaters, and there was some event near by.

Turns out it was a huge deal (if you're a speed skater) national level competition. Olympic Quality athletes, as well as cute little 5 year olds, skating in various races, although thankfully not the olympic level kids against the cute little kids.

If you didn't already know, I will state up front that I'm fairly non-competitive. As in, I'd rather than the stomach flu than have to compete athletically. Or to watch intense athletic competition. Really. Especially since I get over the stomach flu, normally, in 4-12 hours whereas athletic competitions drag on for years and years and years.

I apparently forgot this when I took the children.

The little children were cute, but they took it so very seriously. Oh, the intensity on their little sweet faces. And the smaller ones would fall down, bravely get up, and stubbornly finish the race they no longer had any chance to win, tears streaming down their faces. Gut wrenching, I tell you.

Our neighbors were in the middle aged group. Not as in middle aged adults, LOL, but the in-betweeny kids, old enough to skate seriously and well but not so fast as the olympic level things. They're too old to let tears stream down their faces, and were bravely and sometimes sullenly choking them back.

The Olympic Level races were what almost killed me. Did you know they skate almost 35 miles per hour? They go around the corners single file but amazingly - frighteningly- close to each other. On the straight-away apart they fan out to try and pass each other. But at 35 miles an hour they only have the blink of an eye to fan out, try to pass, and re-integrate into the single-file for the curve. They move like oil, gliding in and out of each other, frighteningly fast. It would've been fascinating to watch if it wasn't so nerve-wracking for me.

When someone glides in someone else's way and they crash, there is no way to slow down or change direction when you're wearing spandex and going 35 miles per hour on ice. They hit the doubly-padded walls hard. While there weren't any ghastly injuries, there were some that took a few minutes and some EMT care, and I've never been one to enjoy sports that have high injury potential. So I found myself sitting and watching all the races tensed up into a sour little ball, teeth clenched, tension-headache throbbing, leaning to the left and right to try to help the skaters not crash. I think I did help, in that respect. I'm sure my leaning helped. It must have.

Anyway, I was so relieved to go home. Where the only injuries come in slow motion from preschoolers and toddlers falling off furniture and slipping in too-slippery socks and the like.

I'm just not cut out for more.