I’ve been extremely competitive for as long as I can remember. In my childhood and teenage years, it was always related to sports. I played both basketball and soccer for several years. I always begged my parents to show up really early for practice and coaches always had me play throughout the whole game. I was always chosen as MVP after the season ended.
I was overweight during these years, but I was physically fit. I was good.
Throughout high school and the following years, competition focused less on your physical abilities and more on your brains. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, but I think a balance of both would have been much better. I competed with my sister to get better grades and with other guys to win over a girl I liked. While entering the workforce, I competed with other people for an open job and once I got that job, I competed with other colleagues to be the most valuable.
I’ve never been satisfied with this sedentary lifestyle’s idea of “competition.” I understand I’m an adult now with responsibilities like being a parent (my baby will be here this month!), working, paying bills, etc., but that doesn’t mean I can’t compete anymore. I’m getting physically fit again and I know I still have some moves — so why is my only form of competition playing spades with the in-laws?
As of this past week, it’s not. I had just got home from the gym and the kid next door, probably 16 or 17, asked me if I wanted to play a game of basketball. He had a ball, but not a goal to play on (he plays at school). My wife and I have a goal in our driveway; I set it up when we first moved into the house a couple years back. It has sat unused for probably 8-9 months.
We shot around to warm up and something just went on fire inside me. It’s that feeling you get right before a big game, or when the game is on the line and it’s up to you to win it all. This kid had been practicing at school for months, he was faster, and he had more stamina — I knew a battle was about to begin.
The game started and he took a quick lead — his only lead of the day. I ended up destroying him the first game of 21 we played to the tune of 21-9, while the second game I won 21-15. Since last Monday, Richard (the boy) and I have played a game or two almost every day after I get home from the gym. I win most of the games, but he squeaks in a win every now and then.
I love the extra calories basketball burns. I love winning. I love beating Richard at “his” game. More importantly though, I love being a competitor.
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this is such an awesome way to incorporate fun and fitness!