After four days of not exercising, I was more than ready to get back on the field - the soccer field that is. That's right, I'm a former soccer player who gets my kicks by pushing a ball around a field with my foot for hours on end. Well in this 95 degree weather, it's more like an hour on end, but I digress.
Since mid-April I've been trying to regain my once natural soccer abilities. Emphasis on trying. Something wasn't right, there was a disconnect between my brain and my foot. Sure, I was shooting the ball hard and to any soccer illiterate bystander I probably looked pretty impressive, but there was no magic.
Ah, but today. Today there was magic.
After pulling overtime at work for two days in row, my brain was fried. I was running (literally) on pure adrenaline, which apparently worked to my advantage. As I prepared to take some shots on my pretend goalie (my reward for a hard workout), I felt something shift. My mind shut down and my body went on pure muscle memory and instinct.
It was pure magic.
I mean, let's not get carried away here. I don't expect David Beckham to break down my door asking for tips anytime soon, but it sure felt great and I know why.
I allowed myself to fail. As I ran toward that ball my stride felt unfamiliar (because I hadn't done it right in so long) and for a split second I thought I might bust my ass - gracefully, of course - but I kept going and I didn't fall.
The one thing in my life I've always struggled with is allowing myself to try things at which I might not succeed. Until this point, my entire education and career has been one long series of pre-determined moves based on things I know I can do well or well enough.
Not anymore. Now I'm going to allow myself to bust my ass (literally and figuratively) because you just never know when you'll find the magic.
No comments:
Post a Comment