It might not actually be my fat cells - it might be sense memory or motion memory or muscle memory - but it feels like there is a whole mess of emotions in my belly fat waiting to erupt when I make the wrong move. By "wrong" I mean...sports related. Not just any sports - but sports from my youth. Example...
I hate volleyball in general. Don't like it. Don't want to play it. Don't like to watch it. Don't really think about it or why I might hate it.
My favorite part of being an adult is no gym class.
So, I buy the Wii fit, as you do if you're an American dabbling with sports and becoming fit. And I use it. Mostly the hula hoop game and the penguin balancing game. Oh, and boxing. Turns out I like beating Doug to a pulp on Wii boxing and it amuses him - so - game on. Tennis is cool. And those other balance games are strange, but oddly intriguing. In fact, the Wii was going really well, until I thought, "Why don't I try all of the games - see which ones I like."
Basketball - fun.
Baseball - kind of stupid.
Golf - not as fun as real golf.
Boxing - super fun.
Yoga - a little odd on the balance board.
Calisthenics - challenging.
Volleyball - surreal.
Surreal?
The set motion (when you push the imaginary ball up with both hands) was fine. Spiking not a problem. But, then there was this moment when I put my hands together to bump-the-ball, when a rush of emotion and memory gobsmacked me and I felt...12.
7th Grade. Yuck.
Jr. High emotions are for suppressing, not flooding, which is probably how they get into the belly fat to begin with. However, I would prefer that with proper diet and exercise they evaporate rather than flood. And I find it particularly unfair they flood while I'm trying to become athletic, when I'm exercising and eating well. Something it seems the Universe would want to reward rather than punish --
But, who am I? Clearly not the person in charge of fitness.
I believe I speak for all female television writers* when I say, Jr. High is the time when we traded in our athletic friends from childhood for our geeky adolescent friends. This process doesn't sound so bad in my blog where I transform my pain into glib posts. But, trust me, the process of discovering your best friend/next door neighbor who can run really fast isn't going to hang out with someone who can't is NOT as sexy as it sounds.
In fact, it's a bit soul crushing.
Let me start from the beginning.
As have gathered, I'm not athletic and I was not athletic in elementary school -- but, I didn't really know that. How could I? There are no organized sports in grade school.There was gym, which I don't remember hating in elementary school.
We got to dance around with a parachute. (fun) Bounce on those hippy hoppy balls. (also fun) Jump on a trampoline (it was the 70's they didn't know they were deadly). And - though we took it for granted - we wore our own clothing - no PE uniforms.
Not bad.
I didn't even hate dodgeball because I was so dissociative I hid in the chaos of the game. I sort of ran around and didn't really notice if people were targeting me or not. No one seemed to notice if I was hitting people with the balls I threw. It was an individual sport.
So, when I went to Jr. High, I had the delusion I would reinvent myself as an athlete. Specifically, I would try out for volleyball with my best friend/next door neighbor and I would make the team. I'd have friends and everything would be terrific.
I was willing to work hard and learn all of the moves and practice. What I did not understand was other girls new the moves already. Or if they didn't, they had something I did not, hand-eye coordination that surpassed a five year old. Other children had parents who gave a crap about sports and taught their kids how to catch and throw. I did not.
(In all fairness, I'm sure there were the requisite balls that were rolled and tossed when I was a toddler. But, my parents didn't really do any follow up on that skill set. Once I could walk and talk any additional practice regarding physical activities was my domain. And it wasn't really where my head was, so I focused on other things like watching TV and putting on plays, writing stories, doing other artsy stuff.
So, now I'm 12, in Jr. High and I want to be an athlete, play volleyball and I have no idea I'm horrible. But, I did have a can do attitude so, I tried out for the team. By my estimation - I did pretty well. I had some difficulty, in that I did not hit ONE ball over the net - but nothing that practice wouldn't improve.
My best friend/next door neighbor did very well. She was also a favorite of our gym teacher and had scored a ride home for us from her (we lived many miles away from the Jr. High, so doing after school activities meant finding rides home because our mothers worked).
After try outs, we piled into our teacher's car. As I climbed into the back seat of her car, I still thought I might make the team. But, as we began to drive and my friend and my teacher began to talk, my hope began to fade. Because my teacher began to COMPLAIN about the girls who tried out - specifically the girls who couldn't serve.
What were they thinking trying out for volleyball? How could you possibly try out for a sport if you had no ability to play it? What was she supposed to do? Reject them. She couldn't let them play, it would ruin the team!
Their conversation continues in this vein. I don't think she was being mean, I think she just didn't pay attention to my audition because it was so bad. But, I sit in the back seat feeling smaller and smaller. This is when most people would keep their mouths shut. But, unlike serving a volleyball over the net, making a potentially horrible situation awkward for everyone is one of my God given talents.
I pipe up, "None of my serves made it over the net."
Silence.
I think the teacher mumbles something about practice and trying next year - she has to have some way to decide who gets on the team and who doesn't. And being able to serve the ball over the net is a pretty good indication of whether or not you're going to be any good.
Interesting.
My friend was quiet. I don't think we hung out much after that. She played volleyball in Jr. High and all four years of High School.
Until Wii volleyball and that simulated volleyball bump - I'd forgotten all about trying to be an athlete in Jr. High. And, frankly, much of my friendship with my neighbor.
The good news is -- I watched a lot of television and that worked out well for me!
* There are a few female adolescent athletes in TV writing, but they are outnumbered so they don't talk about it very much.