Growing up, after I got to the middle school years, I wasn’t allowed to play any organized sports, but because of this, I dabbled in a lot of backyard sports. Everything from Football (which I wanted to go pro in), to baseball, which I hated because I was afraid of the ball.
I grew to love many different sports, often depending on the season we were in. I played them constantly. Not consistently, but lots of random sport playing was had.
I was in pretty good shape while growing up. Never in top physical condition, but enough that I was usually in the 20 percentile of best in shape people. I could often go longer than others. That was also my strength in general. I was never very fast, in fact, I was (and am) pretty slow, but I could go longer than anyone else. I could work through the pain because of how competitive I was.
It’s interesting how now, even at only 23 years old, the pain of playing sports hits so much more than it did when I was 14. I didn’t always have to worry about my back or my knee when I was 14 (though I did actually have some knee problems at that age now that I think about it).
The point being, I now understand those old men who come out and play sports with a bunch of young guys and then they say the rest of their week hey could barely walk. I can already see myself now being one of those guys. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to stay in shape until I die so I at least mitigate that some. I know it’s simply a part of getting older, but boy do I wish I didn’t have to go through pain to have fun.
It’s like the hangover of sports.