The Amazing Race

There is a reason why the show is named as such, simply because it really is an amazing journey around the world.

Every season, I find myself choked up with tears in my eyes as I watch every Detour and every Roadblock tasks that teams perform. Because the wanderer in me envies the places that the contestants get to visit. Because the gungho spirit in me marvels at the different amazing stunts that they get to do, from rappelling down a building to bungee jumping to going on the flying fox across a wide river and waterfall. As they fly through the air, screaming in wonder and ecstasy, I catch myself wishing that I could have the chance to do that too.

And it’s really fun to put myself in their shoes and wonder if I would make the same decision as they did. Would I be able to carry a gigantic swordfish and run through the streets of Sicily without complaining like Monica did? Would I be able to complete a traditional Russian dance with my two left feet?

And then, there’s the amusement to be had when I think about the roles that the boyfriend and I would play should we ever be contestants on the show. He will obviously be the driver and perform tasks that require brute strength or hand-eye coordination. Stuff like bungee jumping would be left to me because he is afraid of heights and I am more nimble and agile than him anyway. And knowing him, he would be carrying my pack for me half the time because, well, that’s what he would do. And, I think, he wouldn’t be as nasty as Lake is to Michelle, screaming at her to shut up and dumping all the blame on her.

This is why I love the show and why it’s so addictive. I think I live vicariously through the lives of others.