02/09/2024
For most of my life, I’ve thought of myself as a basketball player.
I first got addicted to the sport in 10th grade, following a move that took me to a new high school. The friend group that I settled into played almost every day, so I learned to love basketball, too.
In college I was always looking for the next opportunity to play, and when I found one, I’d play to the point of exhaustion!
In recent years, I played with an early morning group at a local gym, and of course in the driveway with my teenage sons.
On many days, the best part of my day was on the court.
I love the thrill of competition, and the challenge of trying to figure out how to win the ball, win the point, win the game.
I have many great friendships that started (or grew stronger) between the lines.
Around two years ago, though, I tore a muscle in my shoulder.
With great reluctance, I accepted that my playing days were over.
It’s hard when you have to stop doing something that’s part of your identity. I finally switched gyms (at least in part) so I wouldn’t have to hear the sounds of basketball games: the steady drumbeat of the ball on court, the shoes squeaking, the rim rattling, the shouts of triumph and defeat.
There’s not exactly a happy ending to this story but… late last year I found myself in a bike shop, purchasing a road bike and all the accessories.
I’m learning a new love, and building a new part of my identity – as a cyclist. I ride two or three times a week. Often with friends. Some who are old, and some who are new.
Sound familiar?
I still feel the sting of loss, but it’s far more tolerable with a new passion to pursue. And of course, I feel blessed. I had a good run on the court, and I hope many more years on the road!