It has been a great night of football. Aah, my feet hurt. Aah, I have a huge horrible blister under my toe callous. But aah, I am happy. ^___^
I joined a social network for team sports last year, but have been either too busy or too chicken to go along to a pickup football game. The default language for the site is Italian, so I thought I'd be surrounded by Tottis and Cannavaros and let everyone down. I don't want to be scared forever, though, so tonight would be the night for trying.
Well, everyone was very good, but I didn't feel intimidated. No one seemed to mind a girl joining in, or if they did, they were gentlemanly enough not to make a fuss. I'll take that.
Going along meant a lot to me because it's new, I've been working up the nerve for months, and I wanted to test my skills in an environment where nothing was familiar. I scored a goal, even thought I wore the wrong shoes and spent all game like a cat on floorboards. After the match, someone asked if I'd come back again, which I've decided is a sign I wasn't too shite. There were indeed a couple of Italian people there, saying Italian things. Picked up some sweet swear words I can't wait to teach someone's kids. :)
A couple hours later, I subbed for some friends in their mixed team. I was in pain from a stitch and my disgusting blister, but aah, it was fun! ^___^ I scored one in this game too, which makes me very happy because I've been playing for 8 years and only recently have worked up the confidence to regularly work at striking. It was troubling, and I even considered seeing a sports psych because it felt tied to my overall confidence.
I don't know what changed exactly. I remember sometime ago feeling very angry and depressed after games. I remember realising I needed to do whatever it took to circumvent those feelings. So I started trying more things - if my intentions were transparent, I'm sure I would have looked desperate and tragic. But it worked. Upon reflection, I suspect my problem was trying to play too safe. Falling into a routine, a comfort zone. Not making plays. Not getting to just have fun and try stuff out, and experience the magic luck that happens when you just enjoy yourself.
At the moment, I feel good about sport, and better about myself. The gold is in the trying. Winning comes a close silver. And losing but not giving up is bronze and worth walking away with.
Tonight has been very good. I don't think my body can handle it all the time, but it was just what I needed on a Monday after an un-sporty week, a junk-foody start to the year, and a long time working up the courage to try.