It's happened twice now. We both end up sweaty. He gives me a real workout. Today he left marks on my body. I know, the title sort of deflates the dirtiness, as you know I'm merely talking about playing racquetball. At the unholy hour of 6am. But of course, when the Dark Pope and the HFoC (Head Fag on Campus, much like a BMoC, only with show tunes) get together, SOMETHING must be unholy.
Neither of us can claim to be in prime physical condition. We're much older and....rounder...than most of the (college-aged) group with which we spend time. And yet, we give each other a real run for the money! We're of similar skill on the court. What I lack in speed, I make for with a large wingspan. What he lacks in speed, he makes up for with (disgustingly) trick shots and strategic placement. (I apparently can't return a ball that comes straight at me, or is served into the back left corner....to save my soul!)
We have a great time abusing each other at 6am. We laugh, we mock, we groan, we ache, and we out-swear the saltiest of sailors. Yes, nuns walking past the court would likely faint. Those who know us wouldn't really be that shocked. This morning resulted in one win for each of us. (This, incidentally was the first time I've won since taking the sport up again...and I've played against Ainsley a few times as well.) Each point was hard earned, too. Our first game, played to 21 points, took 36 minutes.
It's been nice getting a good solid workout in, though we both feel it afterwards. After our last match, the Rev commented "How do you feel? Cuz I feel like Patti LaBelle's hairstylist...I'm soooooooo tired." It's just before 11am, and my body is complaining about the vigorous pounding it took 5 hours ago. Of course, taking two shots to the body, one quite powerful and direct that missed a nipple ring by 3 inches, didn't help matters. (Rev, 5 hours later there's still a perfect red circle imprinted.) I'm feeling fairly confident that I will maintain the current level of weight loss...50 pounds, as of this morning!
But it's more than that. It's about two friends getting to spend time together. Sharing something (pain!). Pushing each other to do more, do better. We don't get mad when the other person makes an amazing kill shot...we simply "Nice shot...asshole." It's about moving and doing something. Becoming smaller versions of ourselves. Trying to make our bodies move like they did 10 years ago (har har har). Camaraderie, not competition.
Today's lesson: it's not always about winning. Sometimes it's nice to just struggle on, and to do it with someone. Even when they're your opponent.
Today's homework: find someone who can push you at something. Sports, games, cooking, conversation, thinking, puzzles, religion...anything. You'll be amazed how far you can go when you find someone you like and trust who will push back.