For the love of the game

Once upon a time, I was quite a little athlete.

Well... that might be overstating things.  But I did play just about every sport on the face of the planet.  Not well, mind you, but I loved the competition, I loved the getting sweaty and working toward something, and I loved the being part of a team. 

Each year, our school hosts a student-teacher volleyball match at the end of the girls' volleyball season.  I missed it last year, since I was still hefting around two giant, baby-feeding weights that weren't exactly conducive to bouncing around a court, so this year I knew I had to get in on the action.

I have to say, even though we're just a bunch of old farts now, running around playing sports we were good at a decade ago, I was actually pretty impressed.

It was nowhere near as bad as it could have been.  In fact, I was downright impressed with how much my body remembered what to do and where to go.

And, we won the matches - all 6 of them!  Let's hear it for the old farts!

The best part was that Casey and Leah came to watch, and let me tell you... that girl was the hit of the day!  Why middle school kids love toddlers and babies so much, I will never know.  But they couldn't keep their eyes or their hands off of her.

Oh how I hope our girl loves sports!  And music.  And reading.  That's not too much to ask, right?

Just when I'd started to think there was no real difference between playing in high school or college and playing as an adult, grown-up mommy, it hit me.  No, seriously.  I felt like I'd been hit by a ton of bricks! 

Recovery.  That's what's different!  I definitely don't bounce back as quickly as I once did, and I've got the bruises to prove it.  Whoever thought it was a good idea to go diving across the gym floor without knee pads was crazy.  And wrong.  Even if she did make some pretty spectacular saves (if I do say so myself!).

But recapturing that 18-year-old love of the game?  Totally worth it!