It’s actually a lot harder to think of something that you don’t get compliments on than I thought. My parents probably could guess my answer to this faster than I came up with it, because they’ve gotten to witness my pathetic attempts at being athletic since I was 5 years old.

To say I’m not very good at (any) sports is a bit of an understatement. And I know what athleticism looks like in other women– I play on a flag football league and some of the girls on the other teams are known for pretty much being woman-beasts! And somehow I end up being the one to cover them… life is cruel that way.

People are never EVER intimidated by my presence on the field. I’m 4′ 11 1/2″ tall and weigh about 95 pounds. I always wish I was a “secret weapon” that people underestimated and I totally rocked the show, but alas, that is never the case. I’m lucky if the quarterback even sees me on the field– which I’ve realized yelling their  name helps getting noticed, but definitely not on a consistent basis. I will never be the woman-beast. Which  I’m totally okay with, because I know it’s just not in my makeup to be that way.

When I was in first grade, I played soccer– just like every single other first grader. The games all looked as they do when a mob of kids are running at the ball with absolutely no sense of strategy or positions. However, I had a really hard time being one of those kids. Wanna know why? Because when I ran too much, I threw up. It’s not like they were having us run miles at the age of 6. I was running just as much as the other kids, and they were all just fine. My mom got to experience picking me up from practice and me be sick the rest of the evening because I just can’t run that much. I mean, how pathetic is that?

When I got a little older, I tried the softball thing– not nearly as much running, and you got to stand out in the field and do nothing for most of the game. Because seriously, this was girls slow-pitch softball… not exactly ESPN-worthy sporting. I did end up playing second base, and my best friend played third. My dad was way more into my involvement– planning our batting order and practicing throwing and catching the ball. In theory, this should have worked like a charm for me in regards to being athletic but not having to over-exert myself. Yeah, not so much. I was so used to not doing much in regards to being out in the field (even as an infielder), I remember one time a girl hit the ball right at me, which I caught (thank you very much), but I was so frazzled by the experience that I got all confused and threw the ball to the umpire who stands between first and second. Not my proudest moment.

So my athletic ability is not one of my shining attributes. I will never get picked first (I’m lucky if I don’t get picked last), and I will never be the one who the guys choose to throw to. I hold my own, and at least don’t make a fool of myself (I do actually catch the ball, so I’m not completely useless). But I will never be GOOD. Which is so okay with me. Who wants to go running around and have the pressure of having them throw the ball to you all the time? I like being able to just run amok just to be moving, but not actually following any sort of play or strategy– way less pressure that way!

 

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