Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Dirty Pickles

Back in May, Sonny (wearing a hat, kneeling in front of me) was asking around Facebook if anyone would be interested in joining a Summer softball league.  I liked softball, or so I thought, and this would be good face time with him---COUNT ME IN!!!  As we started practicing, I soon realized that this wasn't the typical office softball team that I was use to.  This was completely different!  This was intense and Sonny was pretty serious about it.  As he should, since he was running the show....and because he's so athletic!  It was intimidating that he could throw the ball harder, faster and farther than most of us could bat the ball!  I told Sonny, early on, that all I really wanted to do was bat.  I knew I wouldn't be good at much else, since I didn't really know softball and heaven knows this body was not made for running.  Nonetheless, he was optimistic and enthusiastic for our season.  
Every Saturday that we had a game, my heart would be racing!  I was nervous as heck!!  And because I was so nervous, I was basically paralyzed with fear.  Luckily, Sonny had me play catcher, which wasn't such a big deal because most runs were stopped at 3rd base, where he was, or at 1st base.  I was in the clear!  
A few weeks into the season, I got so frustrated with myself, that at the end of the game, I just grabbed my stuff and headed to Tat's car.  I was in tears because I was just terrible at softball.  Over and over, I kept reminding myself of something I read on one of my favorite blogs: "Sometimes We Do Hard Things.", and that's exactly how I felt about softball.  I wanted to quit, but I didn't want to be a quitter!  And this season was going to be my "hard thing".  I was terrified of the ball, still kinda am.  Running wasn't my forte, so that meant I had to hit the ball far so I could at least make it to first base.  I won't lie.....I made more outs than I did points.  I wasn't great, plain and simple.  
I tried to talk Sonny into letting me quit, but he wouldn't hear it.  Instead he encouraged me to just do my best.  He was pretty positive, and I'm really thankful for that.  Had he been anything less, I think I would have just quit and tried not to talk to him again, due to embarrassment (wouldn't have helped, since we attend the same ward/congregation).  In our last game, this past Saturday, I just played to have fun and you know what, it was fun! I hit the ball farther than normal and actually scored a point.  As Tat (he's kneeling in front of me, towards my left) and I were walking away, I started to wish I would have just enjoyed the season more instead of worrying how terrible I played.  I didn't think I'd actually make it through the season, but I'm glad I stuck with it.  It makes me appreciate doing hard things, and knowing the good that can come with the feeling of accomplishment.    

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