I was not an athlete growing up. I quit softball half way through my first season when I was 8 telling my dad, “I hate it. You get all sweaty and dirty and stuff!” (The fact that I had gotten hit in the face twice with a softball didn’t help either).
In eighth grade I found myself at a new school and decided to play lacrosse. My friends were all playing and it seemed like fun. I remember the look of shock on my mom’s face when she picked me up from practice the day this pictures was taken. What happened to her little girlie girl? Here I was covered in mud and smiling!
I had a great time playing lacrosse. Basically it was time after school each day to hang out with my friends. And I had to suffer through some running on the side. Don’t get me wrong, I wanted to be good, really I did. But to be honest, the only reason I was on the team was because our school was small enough that they didn’t have cuts. I held the role of bench warmer aka team encourager. I have many “spirit awards” sitting in my box of high school mementos. I sat the bench for 5 years. When the team was ahead by enough points, the coach would let me go in and play. And my loving parents faithfully came to watch for those short moments in the spotlight. I think they were the real encouragers.
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