There's No "I" In Team

I may or may not have forgotten my plan to document my diet and exercise goals through this blog, as I haven’t done so in quite a while. Nothing of any great consequence has occurred in the past couple of weeks, except my venture into the world of team sports.

I decided to join a recreational volleyball team to add another form of exercise to my repertoire, meet some people (read: new guys), and improve my athleticism. Unfortunately, I can’t say that any one of these goals was met in any respect.

After arriving at the centre where volleyball was to take place an hour and a half early, I should have realized that the not so great start was an omen of the events to come. I walked into the gym filled with people wearing knee pads and bumping and volleying the ball back and forth to each other. I don’t even own knee pads, and I was wearing yoga pants and a shirt that displayed the name of my University on the front. I think I was the epitome of preppy girly girl (though I guess that isn’t too far off what I am).

Everyone seemed to know each other, and as they all gave each other high fives, I frantically sent Brother Bella a text asking him what the hell spiking was. I think he was scared for my life, and I can’t say that I was too far off that same fear.

Then the part I dreaded came to a head – the game began. I took my place in the middle back of the court and cracked jokes the entire time on the court while watching the ball fly over the net but never actually going for it. I’m pretty sure my team hated me. I’m pretty sure the other team hated me, and I was working to their advantage. Hell, I may have even hated myself a little bit in that moment.

Ha, who am I kidding, I thought I was hilarious.

In high school, which was also the last time I played volleyball, I was relatively good at serving the ball. I thought that talent (a word I use very loosely) would have carried with me through the years, so I was fairly confident as I took my stance behind the red line. I got all set up, put on my I-am-the-best-server-in-the-world face, tossed the ball a couple times for good measure (and to look like I knew what I was doing), and promptly hit the ball straight into the net.

My teammates were actually very supportive, but by the end of the game I told them that they didn’t have to tell me “good try” after every failed attempt at serving – it just sounded pitiful by that time.

I’m fairly certain that I danced around the court when they told me to rotate, completely involuntarily. I don’t even know why I did it.

Since our two games ended quickly as a result of my team’s loss – okay, my loss – we were allowed the opportunity to play “for fun”. Yay? I could think of many other things that I would have rather done than play more volleyball. My arms hurt and I was getting dizzy from spinning in circles as I kept an eye on the ball. (I’m starting to think I looked like a major retard on the court, which is probably not too far from the truth). My volleyball skills definitely wouldn’t have helped me pick up guys, and from my realization that I looked like an idiot, I think I may have more things to worry about than I thought when it comes to attracting the opposite sex.

All in all, volleyball isn’t for me, so I withdrew from the league. Actually, team sports aren’t for me. I take the saying "There's no 'I' in team" to a whole other level. I’m a yoga/pilates/pole dancing kind of girl, and I’m okay with that. I'm pretty sure my teammates are, too.

Love,

Bella