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It's March. Which for those who don't follow sports, signals the close of the Men's College Basketball season and the NCAA tournament. Which is still a few weeks away, but regardless...
It being a pretty and gorgeous day outside, I cut out early today and went to shoot around with some folks.
I am old and decrepit. My game is sad.
I'm only 28, and if I were an Athlete, I would be entering my prime. However, the days where I exercised regularly or practised frequently are long gone. Work-out buddy John's been sick, so I haven't exercised all winter. So I'm now fat and out of shape, and my leg-strength and stamina are sorely lacking.
There's still something tremendously invigorating about getting to play, though. Part of it, I'm sure, is the natural endorphin rush. As noted, I'm a highly competetive person by nature, and I enjoy the test of skills. Despite my own lack thereof. I like the feedback - attempting the jumpshot, and knowing almost immediately whether you are succeeding or failing, and then repeating the process to hone technique. I like talking trash. I like battling for rebounds. I like running and jumping, and making plays. Not that I make many.
I hate feeling sore as crap almost immediately afterwords. That didn't use to happen. My knees hurt from jumping. My right elbow is sort from shooting. My back and shoulders are a little tender too. As always, my ankles are starting to swell.
It's not like I ever was a "basketball player". Oh, I was fairly athletic when in good shape, but I've got the broad shoulders and big butt build. It worked for me with football and baseball. But I'm a short jew, I've got a limited vertical leap, I'm not very quick, and I have no D. And then I tore the hell out of my ankle in college.
We used to play twice-a-week. I'm short, not tremendously quick, and I can't go left. But I had a decent jump shot, good range, and one or two post moves. And I was willing and able to bang. When I was nineteen, I coat-tailed into the quarterfinals of the Class-B campus intramurals. I actually hit a game winning three (right of the key, coming left off a pick) in one of our games, which is still one of the more exciting moments for me. Again - there's a definite buzz from a succeeding at physical task like that.
Sadly, these days, I'm just a chucker. I'm so slow that I have to pass or shoot off the first dribble. And the mechanics for my shot are hideous. My ass would get laughed off any reasonable court. Having me on your team will get you crushed. But it's still some fun, and something of a good workout - even if I took a solid whipping.
But my deeply sad J and sorry leap might actually get me motivated to work out, even if John isn't going to be around. I felt so sad-sack dragging my-decrepit-carcass up the stairs afterword and that's just no fun.
It being a pretty and gorgeous day outside, I cut out early today and went to shoot around with some folks.
I am old and decrepit. My game is sad.
I'm only 28, and if I were an Athlete, I would be entering my prime. However, the days where I exercised regularly or practised frequently are long gone. Work-out buddy John's been sick, so I haven't exercised all winter. So I'm now fat and out of shape, and my leg-strength and stamina are sorely lacking.
There's still something tremendously invigorating about getting to play, though. Part of it, I'm sure, is the natural endorphin rush. As noted, I'm a highly competetive person by nature, and I enjoy the test of skills. Despite my own lack thereof. I like the feedback - attempting the jumpshot, and knowing almost immediately whether you are succeeding or failing, and then repeating the process to hone technique. I like talking trash. I like battling for rebounds. I like running and jumping, and making plays. Not that I make many.
I hate feeling sore as crap almost immediately afterwords. That didn't use to happen. My knees hurt from jumping. My right elbow is sort from shooting. My back and shoulders are a little tender too. As always, my ankles are starting to swell.
It's not like I ever was a "basketball player". Oh, I was fairly athletic when in good shape, but I've got the broad shoulders and big butt build. It worked for me with football and baseball. But I'm a short jew, I've got a limited vertical leap, I'm not very quick, and I have no D. And then I tore the hell out of my ankle in college.
We used to play twice-a-week. I'm short, not tremendously quick, and I can't go left. But I had a decent jump shot, good range, and one or two post moves. And I was willing and able to bang. When I was nineteen, I coat-tailed into the quarterfinals of the Class-B campus intramurals. I actually hit a game winning three (right of the key, coming left off a pick) in one of our games, which is still one of the more exciting moments for me. Again - there's a definite buzz from a succeeding at physical task like that.
Sadly, these days, I'm just a chucker. I'm so slow that I have to pass or shoot off the first dribble. And the mechanics for my shot are hideous. My ass would get laughed off any reasonable court. Having me on your team will get you crushed. But it's still some fun, and something of a good workout - even if I took a solid whipping.
But my deeply sad J and sorry leap might actually get me motivated to work out, even if John isn't going to be around. I felt so sad-sack dragging my-decrepit-carcass up the stairs afterword and that's just no fun.
no subject
I know the feeling, and I definately know the hubby could relate! He's 31, and was a 3 sport athlete in high school all four years (football, wrestling and baseball). Now, he tries to play basketball or softball at a work picknic, and he can't move for a week, or two, after! Getting old bites!
Good luck with the working out though! I hope it helps!
no subject
No kidding. Aging definitely makes the game less fun.
It doesn't bug me as much in basketball, because my body was never all that good at doing what I wanted it to do anyway. It's really the lack of conditioning that bothers me because of how I feel afterwards. I'm carrying a little too much weight, which means I get tired too easily and my knees get more sore from jumping than they should. And my pants are a little tighter around the waist than I'd prefer.
no subject
Work-out buddy John's been sick, so I haven't exercised all winter.
Well, if it's any consolation, you're not alone if in feeling this way. Winter sucks.
I know it's no replacement but I have offered to be an exercise NAG for at least one other LJ friend. I'd be happy to nag you if you think it would help. ;)
no subject
Sadly, it wouldn't. Years of being the only son of a stereotypical Jewish mother have lagerly inured me to nagging. You'd actually have to show up and make me do it.
no subject
Heh. Well, my son could probably tell horror stories about how efficiently an Episcopalian mother can nag. But I do understand you're situation.
Seriously, if you can afford it, I strongly recommend hiring a personal trainer. It's one of the best investments that I ever made w/r/t improving my health, especially this time of year when the lack of sunlight effects my mood and makes me want to hiberate. It works for the very reason that I have to make and keep an appointment and it forces me to get to the Gym when I'd otherwise be inclined to go home and slounge. Getting back in the routine is really important.
My small claim to fame
Re: My small claim to fame
Interesting (to say the very least) watching fame occur. Scary also.
Oh definitely. That's a weird experience. But it's neat to be tangentially connected. You get all of the joy, without being all the focus.
Have you read
As I thought of the other games that I had tried, I realized that the normal individual is strongly influenced by tradition. If he is interested in a game, any attempt to modify that game sets up an antagonism in his mind. I realized that any attempt to change the known games would necessarily result in failure. It was evident that a new principle was necessary; but how to evolve this principle was beyond my ken.
You have a certain tradition or way you are used to playing basketball. Your game isn't sad. You just need to let go of what you are used to being the game so that you can enjoy yourself again. That is what Naismith invented it for.
If you haven't read the book, I'm sure you would enjoy it.
Re: Have you read
like that part where, when I jump, my feet get off the ground. Or when I shoot the ball, it goes in. I have to let go of expecting that. Heh.
But I can still wear the headband and high socks, right?