Well, W.P., first off, I think you may have the wrong Olympics because there are no parallels or parallel bars in the winter ones.  Oh.  I see what you mean.  Parallels, huh?  Well, I've only briefly been following the Winter Olympics of 2006, but there may be some parallels (and not bars) that I may be able to site.  I notice that much of the Winter Olympics involves some sort of sliding (on skates, on skis, on sleds, on backsides -- usually unintentional ones).  And when it comes to sliding, that's exactly what you want to do, gracefully, fluidly, and with great ease, when you put the word on the page so that the reader will comfortably follow your narrative, sliding and gliding along with you.  And, of course, you're going to think that picking up your six-figure check is a "skate."  (I think there's a famous saying, "skating all the way to the bank".)  And if you're going to make a big jump like those ski jumpers do, you want to enjoy the flight and the scenery along the way because you never know how you're going to land.  That female snowboarder who missed the gold by doing a little flourish at her last jump, she was fully enjoying herself.  That's the way to go, fully enjoy yourself.  So what if you only get the silver?  So what if you don't get that medal?  So what if you never sell your script?  So what if you don't win the Oscar for best screenplay?  If that happens, you can always take up a winter sport and try for the Olympics.  Those snowboarders have something to teach us who are overly result-oriented:  smile through it all even if you end up in a snow bank.  And what about that valiant Chinese lady who took a fall, and, still in pain, continued to compete, and won the silver!?  I was truly moved to tears.  And got a great idea for a screenplay about a Chinese skater who triumphs despite great odds, which could make me a million dollars...

which I can skate with all the way to the bank.  

DcH