Feb 9, 2018 4 min read

The spectacle begins tonight with the opening ceremonies. That show from South Korea will kick off a few weeks of Olympic competition.

Once the opening spectacle is over the hard part will begin. For the athletes, it’s the thrill of the chase. For me, it’s the anxiety, empathic embarrassment and cringing. For some of us, the competition is uncomfortable to watch.

Let’s start with figure skating. Some viewers see grace and beautiful athleticism. Me, I see a sustained cliff-hanger as we head toward the next tumble. It doesn’t help that the announcers always tell us what big jump is coming up next.

“Here’s the triple axel that she had trouble with at practice this week,” we’ll hear the color analyst say. And I hold my breath. Too often, the skater doesn’t quite make it or worse, ends in a flop to the ice. I’ve learned to predict this and I cover my eyes, embarrassed for these athletes who worked so hard to get there.

And what about those sideboards? Maybe it’s the camera angle and tricky depth perception, but on TV it sure looks as if the skater will hit the board when winding up for the big jump. You’d think by now I would know that doesn’t happen, but I never stop worrying.

Other than rooting for U.S. athletes in general, I don’t have favorites. My fear of falls and failure is equally applied to all competitors from all nations. My anxiety is highest when I watch the female figure skaters; they seem to take the most tumbles. Maybe there’s more injury at stake for the men, though, as they are performing high-flying quadruple leaps.

The other sports make me nervous, too. I worry that the slalom skiers will get their skis caught on those sticks they have to maneuver around. The downhillers are just going too darn fast.

It concerns me that on the bobsled that the guy in the back will get his shoelace caught in the rudder as he gives a final push and jumps aboard. I wish the lugers would dial the speed back a bit, but at least they are going downhill feet first. Have you seen the skeleton athletes? They’re sliding head-first with their chins a few inches from the track. I cannot watch. And don’t get me started on the snowboarders in that bowl. Don’t they know that if they flub the mid-air somersault they could land on their heads?

There are sports I can watch without feeling anxious. Speed skating is exciting, and they sometimes crash into the boards, but those impressive leg muscles look like they can handle it. Some may find cross-country skiing boring, but not me. I can watch them shooshing for hours, never once having to hold my breath or cover my eyes.

The summer games don’t cause this kind of anxiety. Yes, the gymnasts and pole vaulters are flying around a lot, but at least when they fall, they land on padding.

Even with all the cringes, I’ll be watching the winter games, although sometimes while holding my breath and peeking through my fingers.

But there is one sport that brings no anxiety at all. For me, it’s curling. I think of it as the yoga of the winter Olympic sports. It’s not that the athletes aren’t tough competitors – or that there’s nothing at stake – it’s just that curling doesn’t seem to break many body parts.

And I don’t break a sweat watching it.