Natural Born Squasher

So for probably over a year (maybe two) I've been threatening to play squash with this friend dude from dog park. I always complain about not exercising enough and having a round moon face-- and he keeps saying, 'Play squash! I play squash!' Seemed like a good idea. (Not really).

There was alot of demotivational factors over the past year. Here's a list:

1. I've never played squash and I don't like the name squash. (Nor do I like the vegetable squash.... unless it's squashed.)
2. I don't like the image of me being a 'squash guy'. Like the idea that one day it's possible that I could stroll into a Starbucks with a squash racquet around my shoulder--  is an image that doesn't sit quite right with me as me.
3. I started to wonder if it's maybe too late for me to go and start some brand new high-activity sport that I probably would have sucked at 15 years ago.
4. I'd have to join the gym (again) and buy squashy stuff. And I didn't want to throw money away on a gym that I'd never go to and on equipment I'd never use.
5. I was scared about how out of shape I'd feel because it's been a while while since I did some sweaty stuff.
6. This dude plays at 7:15 in the morning which is an outrageous hour for me to do anything active beyond rolling over if I don't have to.
7. Squash? Really? Cmon...

But a month or so ago I bought a squash racquet on sale at Paragon. Step one. And it's been prominently sitting by my front door. When people come over they've been like, 'What's with the racquet...?' And I'll be like, 'It's my squash racquet!' And they'd be like, 'You play squash?!' And I'd be like, "No... but I'm gonna... " They'd be like, 'Uh huh...Right.'

Then a week ago, I decided I was gonna go for it! (Guy told me I could buy a guest pass for $15! Erasing the join the whole gym excuse). I was gonna get up in the morning! And I was gonna play! Squash! We decided! Game on! Friday! Done and done.

Annnnddd.... then I cancelled at the last minute. But THEN the other day I got serious again! Really serious! (I felt bad for cancelling--- to be honest that was the prime motivator.) We booked a court! I set my alarm! And today I woke up at 6:30AM! To play squash!

I decked myself in my homemade sweatshorts (formerly sweatpants. formerly my 'house-wear'. now my gym-wear!) And I wore a shirt a friend sent me that says, 'Property of RCMP Royal Canadian Mounted Police' And I put on my stan smiths! And did it! I went to the gym! With my racquet! On time!

We get on the court and I'm instantly psyched up jumping around all bouncy and swinging the racquet like I was swatting flies while my squash friend tells me how the game works. I'm like, 'Whatever whatever with the rules! Let's play!' (I skip the directions with everything...) We start hitting the ball around and I'm immediately scared. I suck. My eye can't track the ball. I had no perspective on it. It was going too fast. I was like, 'Oh no! I got like old man eyes! I can't even keep up with the ball eyewise! Maybe I gots me a stigmatism or something!' And when I did make contact I'd hit the ball straight up into the ceiling vent or I'd miss altogether and smash my racquet into the wall. Terrible. I was like, 'I knew it! I suck at this stupid game! What did I think was gonna happen?! I'm a big gork!'

But we kept hitting the ball around... And my eyes started adjusting.... And I started to understand the rules of the game.... And I stopped hitting the ball into the ceiling vent... And after a half hour...

I was good. Really good! Not kidding! Something weird happened! I snapped into this sport! Something clicked with it! I was jumping around and smashing the ball and doing tricky shots and stuff! I was amazed at myself! My opponent friend was like, 'Holy shit!' I was like, 'I know! I don't know wtf!' He was like, 'You sucked like 15 minutes ago!' I was like, "I know, right?!"

But I sucked no more. By the end, I was giving him a real run for it. And I wasn't even tired, mofo.

Bottom line is I'm a straight out natural at squash. I said it. Not even bragging. Just stating a fact. No ifs ands or buts. And even if I end up in a Starbucks with that stupid racquet one day-- I won't be embarrssed. I'll give people my best squashed-out squinty tough guy look. Like a real athletic type of guy owns that racquet. And owns that friggin squash court. As much as I own that Grande Vanilla Latte with Soy, biatches!

ok bye!



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