The Olympics. So many stories. Who can forget this one?
Redemption stories. Gritty stories. Rising-above-it stories. Against-all-odds stories. Really, that's probably one of the things I like best about the Olympics. Personal stories of sacrifice, effort, and pure grit. Because what often separates the medal winners from the rest of the pack is that willingness to dig a little deeper; to reach a little farther; to get back up and try it again.
Which brings me to my Olympic knitting project.
Oh, I was cruising right along. Sure, there are a LOT of stitches on the needle. The rows are r-e-a-l-l-y looooooooong. Moss stitch is tedious. But there's a pattern there to break things up a bit. And it's not the kind of project that requires total concentration and a lot of counting -- I can talk on the phone or watch tv while knitting.
Or, so I thought.
Jenny says. . . I know that problem spot is in here somewhere. I can smell the irritation. . .
Last night, I realized that I had gotten distracted somehow -- right in the middle of a pattern segment -- and I had messed up a small portion of the moss stitch (unfortunately, right in the middle of the piece). Of course, being moss stitch, it took me a while to notice. Like. . . rows and rows. Long. Long. Rows.
I considered my options. I tried some things. I got grumpy. I wanted to throw the piece in a dark corner.
But, this is my Olympics. What would Apollo do? Why, he'd get back up, smile that dazzling smile, and keep going. What would Lindsey do? Why, she'd get back up, smile that dazzling smile, and keep going. What would Sean do? Why he'd get back up, smile that dazzling smile, and keep going.
Eventually, I decided to live with a minor imperfection. I knit backwards for several rows. I patched things up as best I could without a major rip-back. I ended up knitting for hours last night . . . with no "real" progress.
So. I hit some adversity. I got back up and I kept going.
But I'm not smiling about it.