The Winds of Change

It's been six years since London 2012.

(Before I continue, I just need to say... that's insane. Who let this happen?)

London was the first Games I was ever involved with, and it'll always hold a special place in my heart for that reason. But beyond that, it'll always hold a special place in my heart because it's easily the best thing I've ever done.

When I was deciding where I wanted to study abroad, it occurred to me that if the Olympics were going to London, I should go to London. And if the Olympics and I were both going to London, I should weasel my way in. I lucked into a contact at LOCOG who pointed me in the direction of becoming a London 2012 Ceremonies volunteer, so I filled out an application. I spent weeks stressed out of my mind, collecting bank records and driving around Miami to find the office to get fingerprinted and spending literally hundreds of dollars to get my student visa that would allow me to work in the UK. In the meantime, I applied for a study abroad scholarship meant for non-academic costs, telling the interview committee, "I'm studying abroad in London because I'm trying to work for free." (That worked.) Once I arrived in London, I had an interview with L2012C at which I said, "I'm studying abroad in London literally because I want to volunteer here." (That worked too.)

After I got my volunteer bib, I was like a kid in a candy store. I signed up for every shift I could get my hands on, prioritizing it over my schoolwork (which, let me tell you, was a massive first for me). I spent hours upon hours standing in the cold in an east London TV studio, sorting bibs and handing out Oyster cards and inputting performer information into the system and watching the Olympic and Paralympic ceremonies come to life before my eyes.

It's still the coolest thing I've ever gotten to do. By far. And maybe the coolest part was that... I did it. Me. And I did it solely because I wanted to. Sure, I hoped it would help me professionally. But I wanted to be a part of the London Games, so I did it. I freaking did it.

That's obviously not to say I didn't have help. My mom's friend Caron knew a guy at LOCOG that got the whole ball rolling. One of the L2012C staffers flat ignored the rule that said all applicants need a UK visa good for six months after the Games in order to be allowed to volunteer; mine expired almost two months before the Games, but they accepted me anyway. There was definitely an element of luck and good timing and having the right people around me and enabling me.

But what I'm really getting at is that I had this slightly impractical idea that got my heart racing, and I was able to figure out how to make it happen for myself. And I'm still really effing proud of that.

I don't really remember the last time I had that feeling.

Getting a job is nice, but a) your fate is still in someone else's hands, and b) it's a necessity to live. I've had good jobs, and gone to both Rio and PyeongChang since London, and that's not to say I didn't love those experiences, but... I don't know. It was someone else's decision. And that's not really a bad thing, but it's just... different.

I think the thing about London was that I made a life-changing decision. For myself. For no other reason than that I wanted to experience something that would change my life.

I want to do more of that.

I got really complacent at my last job (which I'm really not proud of). I wasn't super motivated to do much outside of work, and when my mental health started to go downhill, it was all I could do to stay motivated at work. And now that I don't work under the Olympic umbrella anymore, I need to get my fix elsewhere. My job won't be sending me to Games anymore, so I have to start changing my own damn life for myself again.

What does this mean? I don't know. Why am I sharing this? I don't know! Maybe it's to hold myself accountable. Maybe it's because I haven't felt this motivated in an incredibly long time. Maybe putting my thoughts to proverbial paper and out to the universe is a way of opening myself up to opportunity.

Either way, volunteer applications for Tokyo 2020 open in September, and you can be sure ya girl will be ready.

Home

I'm sitting out on my patio. (Patio? Terrace? I used to call it a balcony, but my dad the construction man explained all the different terminology and concluded that calling it a balcony is incorrect. I don't remember which is correct, though. It might be terrace.)

It's warm -- shorts weather -- and breezy. It feels like summer.

It's May of 2018, but if I close my eyes, it's August of 2016. Late morning, around 11. I have a bowl of oatmeal with berries on the little table in front of me, and I left my phone inside. On purpose. These late morning hours are the only time I have to myself for a few weeks and you can be damn sure I'm going to enjoy some peace and quiet. When I'm done with breakfast I might go inside and watch some Olympics coverage before I go to work, but when your job is to cover the Olympics, you find that watching the Olympics before going to work isn't always what you want to be doing.

There are a few mornings spent watching fencing and rugby, for sure, but most of them are spent outside on the patio/terrace/balcony, slowly eating breakfast and marinating on things in silence. Sometimes I ponder the state of the Mets (pretty trash). I'm heading to my first Paralympic Games in Rio in a few weeks and as it gets closer, it's finally starting to feel real and exciting and wow, that's sure going to change my life, huh? Occasionally I long for the days I used to spend summers outside having fun, and not stuck behind a computer in a large, freezing concrete room.

And then, of course, I go inside, throw on some Team USA (or otherwise sponsor-friendly) clothes and leave for work around 12:30. My shift starts at 1, just in time for shit to hit the fan at approximately 1:05. I work until 11 (which means at least 11:30, natch), go to bed around 2 am, and wake up and do the same thing again the next day.

But those lovely mornings were mine.

It's hard to believe they were almost two years ago.

Now it's 2018. I worked those Olympics, and then another one. I went to those Paralympics, and then another one. The Mets are still trash (or trash again). I don't work for the USOC anymore -- and I'm not even all that sad about it, which is the strangest part -- and today is my last in this apartment.

It's not as dramatic as it sounds. My contract at the USOC ended -- after four years of temping, it was finally time -- and I'm moving to a newly-renovated apartment in the same complex. In fact, in the building I'm staring at right now. It's about as low-impact a move as could possibly exist.

And yet, I'm nostalgic. Wistful, if you will. This is the first apartment I ever lived in 100% by myself. It's seen some good times and great people. It's also seen me cry in bed and mope on the couch all day because I couldn't muster up the energy to care to do anything else. It was sometimes my office, and sometimes my sanctuary. But whatever went on in here, it was where I called home during an incredibly significant chapter of my life. That chapter is over now, and tomorrow I get the keys to a new place and get to start a new one.

I should probably go pack first.

Endurance Kids

Y'know that #relatable moment when your intern at the U.S. Olympic Committee is sitting in the cubicle across from you and watching the TV show you were on when you were 15?

No? Hm, weird.

Well, for those of you that are new around these parts, I was on a TV show when I was 15. It was called Endurance. You can read about it here and here and there's definitely an Endurance wiki somewhere on the internet, but I do not Google myself so you're on your own! *finger guns*

This summer was the 11th anniversary of the show's filming -- ELEVEN! YEARS! -- and to celebrate, a few of us had a little reunion. And it all kind of got me thinking.

I tried out for Endurance because I was the World's Biggest Fan of the show and thought it would be the coolest thing in the world. There wasn't really much thought to it beyond that. I imagined doing all these challenges, getting a partner and a team color, and meeting some (hopefully) awesome people that would (hopefully) turn into FRIENDS 4EVER and we'd (hopefully) have awesome reunions and it would all just be grand!!!

I didn't think about running into the dude that sent me to elimination on our shared college campus four years later. I didn't think about the friends I'd meet while studying abroad who'd watch my episodes of the show in a hostel in Copenhagen. I didn't think about the coworkers I'd eventually tell about my reality TV past, or the fact that I will be able to own Two Truths and a Lie for the rest of my life. I didn't think about all the "soooo, there's this thing I did..." conversations I'd be having with new people in my life for, uh, the rest of my life.

The reality of reality TV (heh) was totally lost on me. But here I am, 11 years down the road, living life as a grown-up reality TV kid.

^ A grown-up reality TV kid.

Now, let me be clear and say that reality TV is not my life by any stretch of the imagination. Until I started watching American Grit (which had one too many weird similarities!), Endurance very rarely crossed my mind. I give it a passing thought each year on significant dates, but otherwise packaged up my experiences into some insider knowledge on reality TV, hella real trust issues and the knowledge that my dreams are never out of reach if I make a good enough five-minute audition tape (metaphorically, of course).

But at 26 years old I suddenly found myself hanging out with two of my cast mates that I hadn't seen in years, and I realized... we're all making s#!t happen for ourselves. Lilly lives in LA and is a story producer for reality TV shows; she has literally worked with some of the people that were our producers on Endurance. Aric teaches guitar for a living and left our reunion to go to Vancouver to interview some music industry bigwigs for an article he was writing. And I'm working at the USOC, getting to go to Games and say I used to live at the Olympic Training Center.

Very different paths, sure, but we all had our passions and just kind of... did them!

Are we like this because of Endurance? Or were we always like this and Endurance was just a byproduct? Who knows. But either way, maybe there's something to this "reality TV kid" thing.

It's a pretty cool thing to be.

Perfectionism and Ugly Days

Hi, I'm Darci, and I'm a perfectionist.

I wanted to write a blog post tonight -- because it's the end of the month and apparently my new thing is squeezing a blog post in right at the end of every month, and I didn't want to let May pass without blogging a single time -- and I was struggling so much with it. I didn't have any good ideas. Eventually I sort of settled on writing a "life lately" post, but I couldn't even force myself to start writing it. I sat around all day avoiding Blogger and dreading it.

Why? At first I thought it was because I worked a lot this weekend and was just feeling lazy, which, okay, is definitely part of the reason. But when I thought about it a little more I realized it's because a "life lately" post felt... so weak. When I used to blog three times a week, running out of inspiration every now and then and needing the crutch of an easy post once in awhile made sense. But now I blog once every four weeks! I shouldn't be this stumped! I should have something to say after not blogging for four weeks, I shouldn't need to cobble something together that's lame and unimportant and not all that interesting!

But THEN I thought... why does it matter? This is my blog. I should just do whatever I want with it. I don't need to be perfect every time I post something. I'm not making money off of this, so does it matter whether or not I impress anyone? NO! It doesn't matter! I started blogging because I felt like it, and continued because I enjoy doing it. If I want to write a freaking "life lately" post, and if that's all my wrung-out brain can come up with, that's what I should write! Who cares?!

Answer: me. I care. I'm a perfectionist. If I can't do something well, I will often be loath to do it at all. I'm like this with my blog. I'm like this at work. I'm like this with completely unimportant things like makeup or drawing or doing literally anything. If I won't be able to completely knock a task out of the park, I have to literally force myself to even start it. I am paralyzed by perfectionism. And that's absurd.

So my goal going forward is to be kinder to myself. This summer is about to be INSANE IN THE MEMBRANE -- and not like "woo party!" insane, but like, "I might work 100 hours this week" insane -- and I'm not going to have the time or the energy to beat myself up about... anything, really. My last boss would give me permission to have an "ugly day," i.e. to totally suck at whatever I was doing, to take some of the pressure off, and I need to start doing that for myself. I'm gonna have some ugly days. My first draft of a project at work might be super lame. My blog post might be nothing substantial. But I'm not going to accomplish anything or ever get better if I'm stuck trying to do everything perfectly.

And look at that. My struggles ended up solving the problem I was struggling with in the first place. Ain't that something?

Anyway, that's all from me for now. Hope everyone's been doing well. Give yourself permission to have a few ugly days once in awhile. :)

Things I Could Be Doing Instead of Watching Sports

Guys, I have a confession to make: I watch a LOT of sports.

I watch sports for fun. I watch sports for work. I watch sports for fun at work. And when I found myself thinking, "ah, can't do [insert task or activity here] at that time, that's when the game is on," or wondering what on earth I should do with myself on an off day, that's when I realized... I watch a freaking ton of sports.

And that got me thinking. If I watched less sports, I could be doing so many other things! Imagine what I could accomplish if I wasn't spending three hours a day glued to Mets games! There's a whole world of possibilities!

1. Working on this blog. Being a long-distance Mets fan, my only access to games comes via MLB.tv, which I watch on my laptop, which means other Internet activities are very limited. If I had those three hours a day to spend elsewhere, I could maybe write more than one post in a month, update some pages, clean up the broken images... Ugh, I should probably do all of that anyway. This place needs a major facelift. Might be time for some spring cleaning.

2. Sleeping. WHOA, what a wild concept. Instead of staying up late or getting up early to watch an international event I could, y'know, actually get eight hours of sleep. Pretty sure the bags under my eyes would thank me for that one.

3. Reading a book. I did read a book several weeks ago, but you know what it was about? Sports. Surprise! But if I had more free time, I could actually crack open a novel again. (Actually, I should do that either way.)

4. Going outside. Well, maybe not right now because it's snowing. Actually, it might not be snowing, it might just be the brutal wind blowing the snow around. (Yes, it's May tomorrow. Yes, it snows right around May 1st every single year I've lived here. No, I don't know why I'm still surprised.) So needless to say I'll be staying snugly in my apartment for the foreseeable future, thanks. But when the weather has actually been nice, I could've gone exploring (which I really do want to do!). I could've gone to a museum, gotten some culture in my life. I could've gone to see a Rockies game! ...Wait, that defeats the purpose of not watching sports. Damn.

5. Working out. Dude, it has been way too long since I've done any physical activity that isn't climbing four flights of stairs in the parking garage at work. If I wasn't spending so much time watching sports, I could be whipping my butt into shape. On the flip side, I could turn baseball games into workout opportunities; do 10 squats every time the Mets score a run! (Though in light of their 13-1 win yesterday... yikes.)

6. Cooking an actual meal. Raise your hand if you're super lazy in the kitchen! *waves both hands wildly* Most of my cooking lately has involved making a box of pasta and throwing some tomatoes on top of a bowl of spinach. Gourmet, I tell you. If I had a few spare hours, maybe I'd dig up the motivation to spend some time with my crockpot.

7. LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE. I could watch a movie. I could draw something. I could write in a journal. I could make something in Photoshop. I could pick my nose, for all I care. But no, I spent multiple hours every day stressing out about some athlete or another -- usually multiple athletes simultaneously -- and hoping they do whatever thing they need to do so they/their team can win.

I started writing this blog post this morning, and it wasn't finished until late evening. Why? Well, because I went grocery shopping around noon and then watched the Met game for three hours. And so it goes.

But hey, this is the life I've chosen for myself. Some of this sports-watching pays the bills, which is pretty rad. Some of it is probably going to give me gray hairs and take years off of my life, which is slightly less rad. But all of it is definitely fun.

Catch you on the next off day! *finger guns*