My Gas-Station Epiphany

The other night while I lay in bed, I saw an infomercial for an exercise dvd. The routine itself was nothing special, but the salesman said something that has been on my mind for a few days now. He said that humans are the only mammals that worry about aging. While all other mammals worry about their next meal, we are left to ponder our mortality as we grow older.

Recently I have been having a lot of thoughts about my own mortality. What would happen to my family if I was no longer around? Would they have to move out of the house? Would my daughter have any memories of me? How would my wife cope? It's a depressing thing to think about, but I'm not overly concerned - I think it just goes along with having a family that depends on you. It goes along with getting older and being scared of losing everything.

I can handle those thoughts. Where I am starting to struggle is with the aging of my body. I am still playing soccer a few days a week. One of my teams is a competitive men's league team, the other an over-30 men's team just for fun. I feel like I still have a few years of competitive soccer in my gas tank. I will never be the player with the best skills but I am finally smart enough to make up for it. I know how much my body can take when competing against 25-year olds in soccer. I know how to conserve energy and I know my limitations. The funny thing is that I actually play worse in leagues where I have more time and often more skill than most of the players on the field. I sprint more. I dribble move. I turn the ball over more. I no longer play to my abilities and at the end of the night, I'm totally drained. Recently I was even wheezing after my over-30 league. It was a depressing feeling.

But no where is my age catching up to me more than on the basketball court. While I was an undergrad I was in amazing shape. I could stay on the court all night. I was lucky to have such good friends who happened to be great basketball players - I could go about my job setting screens, grabbing offensive rebounds and playing mad defense. My motor never stopped. Then I came to UW and starting playing some IM basketball with the guys in my department. We were terrible but I never particularly felt like I was the problem. We simply did not have more than 3 ballers in the whole department. We lost a lot. And by large amounts. Still, even in defeat I would use my fouls and let the other team that they couldn't just get away with pressing us when they were up by 40. It was stupid, but I was too proud.

I took last season off, but was really excited to come back this season. I am in fairly good shape these days thanks to Effin Tony Horton and our team is much better than in years past. My mind is clear and I am having a good time. This in spite of shooting about 10% from the field and being unable to bring the ball over midcourt even though I am the secondary ballhandling option. Just the other day I wondered how I played 25 minutes and yet contributed nothing. Last night, while pumping my gas at Chevron, I came to a startling realization - I simply am no longer a good player. It's not that I lost my skill (I really never had any), it's that I don't have the juice in me to dive on the floor, to move my feet on defense, to run downcourt on any turnover. I just don't do it anymore. Instead, I am trying to show my worth by taking charges.

The team we played last night was like many graduate school IM teams - alpha males in their early 20's who sole goal in life is to be better than you. They drive fancy cars and because their daddies ignored them when they were kids, they are out to prove to the world how great they are. Last night we started off really well and were actually winning 12-3 at one point. The next time I looked we were down 26-16. They simply cranked up the defense and forced us into turnover after turnover. Now at that point, I assume they are going to step down the intensity and just cruise in the second half. As always I was wrong. These guys want to pour on the points in order to feel good about themselves. They get fired up when they perceive that one of their opponents has thrown an elbow, threatening my teammate if he does it again. And of course, they are still double-teaming on defense. The kid that was guarding me in my grill so much that I could hear him breathing. The kid had no talent and it pissed me off that I couldn't handle his pressure. I realized then that I used to be that kid and my college friends were just like the team we were playing against. I used to make up for my lack of talent by getting in opponent's grills. They used to run the court and score at will.

I simply don't have it anymore. I don't have the desire to work hard and I don't have the mental fortitude to put up with the trash-talking. Both physically and mentally I'm old. Not only does it takes me a few days for my body to recover, but it takes my brain a few days to recover as well. There was an a-hole that we played against in our over-30 league the other night that accused us of being 10-year olds and then yelled at our PK taker as he approached the ball. His team was up 6-2 at that point. I honestly have not stopped thinking about it since. Same goes for last night's basketball game - again I have so many things to say to those guys. I just can't seem to get over it.

The good news is that besides the trash-talking and the running up of scores, I am having a good time playing bball again. Games are late enough so I can put my daughter to bed and be there by gametime. I honestly am not that upset with my gas-station revelation that my best basketball days are behind me.

What I am afraid of is what will happen when I realize I can't remain competitive in soccer. Will I know when that day comes? If so, will I be able to step back and play only for fun? Will over-30 leagues be good enough to quench my competitive appetite? If not, will I transfer my competitiveness to my daughter? Will I be able to find other activities to keep me active?

Getting old sucks. I have been blessed all these years to have avoided a major injury. I am blessed to have a family that allows me to continue playing soccer and basketball. At some point I am going to have to stop playing competitively and stay in shape by working out in my 'home gym'. The problem is that I have no say in when that will be. Unlike with job, where I am getting better on a daily basis, my athletic prowess is slowly slipping away. By the time I am 55 I'll be at my peak professionally,but I probably won't be able to run the length of a soccer field. I have always chuckled at my dad when he says that youth is wasted on the young, but I am starting to see that it's the truth. And it's a sucky thing to realize.