Mention a sporting activity to me and I automatically groan. Please don’t ask me to join the church softball league or an office dodgeball game.
My dislike of sports goes way back. Even as a small child I preferred to stay inside and read books rather than go outside and play, where I might encounter bugs and – horror of horrors – sweat!
I’ll give myself credit for trying over the years. I always wanted to be an athlete, shooting a winning basket or crossing the finish line in a relay race.
A few failed experiments at organized sports:
• Tee-ball: I spent most of my time in the outfield, stepping on ant hills. But, darn, I looked cute in that batting helmet.
• Third grade pee-wee basketball. Let’s just say that wasn’t a very good idea.
• Fourth grade pee-wee cheerleading, which wasn’t too terrible, but based on the fact I’m in my 30s and still can’t do a cartwheel put a damper on my cheerleading career.
• I detested gym class and was one of those poor kids picked last for any team.
By junior high, I’d given up on sports and focused on things I actually enjoyed and could do well, such as music and writing. Plus, I went through a chubby phase and a cheerleading uniform would not have been flattering. In high school, I was thrilled with the fact we only had to take gym class in the ninth grade and then we were released from that mandated torture.
Let me pause here to say I do think children should learn good physical fitness habits, but the way gym class is structured is terrible. But that’s an entirely different blog post I’ll save for another day.
I made one more attempt as an adult to participate in a church volleyball team. I’ll sum that one-game experience up with the fact I don’t really like having a hard ball flying at my face and a resulting criticism from a teammate confirmed the fact I am not good with team sports.
I’ve done much better in recent years with solo workouts at the gym, Pilates classes, biking, hiking or running (that’s me at left running a 5k) – activities in which no one depended on me to hit a ball, run a base or hold up a pyramid of humans.
So, I’ve given that sad account to drive home what was a very exciting moment for me a couple weeks ago. I was referred to as an “athlete.”
I’ve started doing CrossFit, a fitness program often used by the military and police academies. It’s different each day – lifting weights, doing pull-ups, running, swinging kettle balls and a variety of other exercises to build strength, stamina and, I hope, the muscles in my arms and stomach. The nice thing is it can be customized for your level.
The trainer and owner of the facility sends out e-mail newsletters and refers to CrossFit participants as “athletes.” And, so, for the first time in my life I’ve decided to claim the title and wear it proudly. By the way, my other big accomplishment is I’m sweating and I don’t even mind.