Heart.

I love the Olympics. There is just something about these two weeks that makes me tear up whenever I turn on NBC. Seriously, you should have seen me in 2008 when Michael Phelps received his medals… I was a mess!

This love is a bit odd considering I am not an athlete, nor do I have any interest in athletic activities. I don’t understand the game of football… down, inning, say what? Putting my head underwater freaks me out and I.Don’t.Run… Ever. Yet, every two years like clockwork, I’m glued to the TV and cheering on the USA competitors like a football fan screams and shouts during the Superbowl (which I only watch for the good food and commercials).

I’ve decided my obsession with these Olympians has much more to do with who they are as individuals than it does their actual athletic abilities.

Everyone has a story.

JR Celski was laying on the ice a year ago, a gash in his leg that could have killed him. He stood on the podium and accepted a bronze medal Sunday night. Lindsey Vonn walked off the slopes on an injured leg… with a gold medal. Xue Shen and Hongbo Zhao were skating partners long before they married, retired from figure skating, and came out of retirement just to compete in Vancouver.

Everyone has a story.

It’s not about who wins and who doesn’t. To me, it’s uplifting to hear about the athletes who know they are not competing for a medal, but receive a “personal best” score. The Olympians who are so overwhelmed by the experience that they stand in awe during the opening ceremony. The stories of why they are competing and who inspires them.

It’s not about winning, it’s about heart.