Ouch!
That was the first thought I had when I awoke on Tuesday morning. That particular
Tuesday morning followed an evening of fun and bonding with a couple of the kids and
some of their friends. And that evening of fun and bonding featured a trip to the local
YMCA and a couple of hours of volleyball.
Ouch!
Now, I know I'm out of shape. And I realize it has been a long time since I spent a
couple of hours smacking that funny looking white ball over a net. But in my mind it
seems like just a few weeks ago that the wife and I joined some friends and relatives for
successful season of Parks & Recreation volleyball in Kansas City. Our team even took
second place in the city that year. It was, however -- as my wife reminded me -- about
25 years ago when that took place.
Man. The mind and memory do play tricks on us at times.
On that more recent Monday evening, as I watched the young ones "bump, set and
spike," I wondered if they would someday feel the aches and pains I knew would be
my companion come Tuesday morning. "Hah!" I thought. "They don't have a clue."
There was one bit of consolation, I guess. As I looked across that wooden gym floor
and through the net stretched tightly across the room, I could see another man about my
age trying to keep up with the young folk. And I could tell by the look in his eyes that
he was thinking about what the next morning might bring as well.
When it was all over and we were toweling off, he said it had been probably 10 years
since he'd played volleyball. I thought about it, and aside from a few attempts at sand
volleyball with other campers at state parks across Missouri, it has been probably 20
years since I took the game seriously. We were -- and this is a sad truth to admit -- a
couple of old guys playing at a young person's game.
But we held our own. We had a great time doing it. And who knows -- maybe we
provided inspiration to the younger folk scattered around the volleyball court.
Inspiration to keep going even when oxygen is in short supply.
Inspiration to keep those extra inches off your waistline.
Inspiration to play hard at closer intervals than every 10 years or so.
Inspiration to take care of your knees while you still have time.
As I left the gym I heard someone say, "That was different."
You bet it was different. It isn't every day you get the chance to play volleyball with a
couple of old school guys whose total combined age exceeds the century mark And it's
not every day you get the chance to soak up so much inspiration for free.
Did I say inspiration? Maybe I should have said perspiration.
Ouch!
