I read a short, funny news article today. Olivier Rioux is a 19-year-old teenager who became the tallest person ever to play college basketball. He’s 7-foot-9. Let that sink in. Seven feet. Nine inches. He made his debut in a game where his team crushed North Florida 104–64, and apparently, he drew so much attention from the other team that he didn’t even touch the ball. He didn’t need to. Just existing was enough.

Meanwhile, I was over here celebrating that I might have grown a fraction of an inch cresting 5’4″ and a bit more. A triumph! I even stood taller at the thought, channeling my inner yoga instructor whispering “elongate your spine.” It could just be that I’m standing straighter these days, but I’m going to call it a late-stage growth spurt. Take the win where you can get it.

I’ve always thought being above average height for U.S. women (statistically speaking) put me in the “confident heel-wearing” category. Add my daily minimum of 3-inch heels, and I feel like a skyscraper among my colleagues. Until, of course, I read about Olivier. At 7-foot-9, he’s practically a walking Wi-Fi tower.

My mind flooded with questions:
What was he fed?
How much protein does one need to reach cloud altitude?
Where on earth does he buy shoes?
Does he relate to Will Ferrell in Elf? You know,  that awkward moment of realizing you’re not like everyone else, only he’s in a basketball jersey instead of green tights?

Also, let’s be honest does he even need to be good at basketball? If I were 7-foot-9, I’d just raise my arms, block out the sun, and call it a day.

Then again, there’s something awe-inspiring about it. The body is a wild, unpredictable thing. Some of us are fighting gravity, back pain, and bad posture. Others are redefining the limits of how high a dorm bed can go before hitting the ceiling fan.

So, as I sip my coffee (in a mug that feels smaller than usual now), I tip my metaphorical hat (or rather, crane my neck) to Olivier Rioux. He reminds me that growth can take many forms. Some of us grow up, some grow within, and some grow taller in heels.

Me? I’m standing a little straighter today.