The warm-up visualization our yoga instructor led us through last night took us to London. “Flow east across the ocean. Look down, see the Thames as it curves through the city. How do you know it’s the Thames?” he asked. And then, with laughter in his voice, he quickly answered: “It’s the only dark thing you see.”

“It’s late there,” he continued. “But the pubs are still full. The eyes of the world are on this city.”

Maybe it was the drama in his voice, maybe it was the mid-summer doldrums, but whatever it was, it made me very excited that the Olympics are starting today.

I remember writing about the ice dancing event in Vancouver in in one of my first posts in this blog. Have I really been writing almost daily here for that long?

The Olympics, like any event that happens every two years (or every four) helps us measure time. The music, the uniforms, who wins and who loses, where we lived and who we watched it with — all these wrap themselves into our memories and become part of the experience. Watching the Olympics unites us in a good way. We are riveted by competition, not by tragedy.

It’s eight hours until the opening ceremonies. Let the games — and the stories — begin.

Anthony Page holds the Olympic torch in front of Big Ben. Photo: London 2012 Olympics Official Site.