Sport


Wherein Our Heroine Looks at Some Definitions.
Like many women, I have what might be termed an uneasy relationship with my body. When I played sports, it was evident that I was no jock. What's my definition of "jock"? Someone who can run - preferably fast. I can't run fast. In point of fact, I hate running. Running pounds feet into hamburger and turns knees into leg-migraines. Who needs it?

Well, if anyone who wants to play any of the team sports so ardently loved by this great nation needs it, that's who. And team sports are the ne plus ultra of many people's definition of physical fitness and "jock-ness." I've done my stretch of playing those team sports, and I do believe I am done. In addition to disliking running, the competitiveness that sport engenders often turns people ugly. I've seen enough shoving and heard enough trash talk sitting on the sidelines of our suburban adult league. I don't need to be in the middle of it any more.

So where does that leave me? Well, as most of my readers know, that leaves me with yoga. Yoga has obviously become very popular lately - some would say too popular, as too many marginally qualified teachers are springing up and encouraging new students to proceed too far, too fast. And yet, for every person who knows that yoga is a serious pursuit that can be very physically challenging, there are five yahoos who deride it as "passive" or "just sitting" or "just stretching."

Therefore, I am still not a jock. In fact, at various points in my life, I have been a very decent cross-country skier, a fair-to-middling cyclist, a rather skilled downhill skier, a horseback rider of many years, and a dedicated yogini. I guess it's no wonder I have such an uneasy relationship with my non-jock physique - my body is just useless, isn't it?
Posted: Friday - July 30, 2004 at 08:36 AM         | |

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