9 Holes

I am supposed to go play nine holes today with friends Kristen and Ann at the public golf course, Raccoon Creek. I was extremely excited about this when I got the text invite last night only to wake up this morning petrified. What sounded like a great idea then, has totally stressed me out all day. Why, you ask? Well, Kristen might as well go pro, and Ann practices every day and has her own personal instructor. Intimidating...yes.

My dad put a golf club in my hand practically right after I learned to walk, which was after I learned how to swim. It's fair to say that the basics of golf were programmed into me at a very young age. But then something happened (adolescence?) and I soon became anti-golf as I refused to think of it as a sport. Boy, do I regret that. Had I kept up with it, I'd be just as good as them -- maybe even better now (to my dad's credit, he pushed, pleaded, and prodded with both my sister and I to play until one day he finally gave up and simply told us that we'd end up regretting not keeping up with it -- well, damnit Dad, you were right. Put that on a plaque).

So, last summer I took a golf lesson. This summer, I am in stroke recovery. That's not to say that I can't exercise, but I've had to scale it back significantly due to doctor's orders and the fact that my energy levels are pathetic (I take naps every day; sometimes two). Needless to say, my 4th marathon will have to wait until 2009. I still run with my running partner Janya twice a week (she's so patient with me) and have recently become involved in Front Range Adventure Boot Camp three times a week (I LOVE Robyn!). However, to fill in my running gaps, I've taken up to hitting balls at the range probably three times a week. My shorts may be a bit more snug now, but I can actually hit to the 150 yard sign with my 3 wood (don't laugh, this took a lot of practice for me). However, I haven't so much as looked at a course yet much less set foot on one -- yikes!

Well, today it is. I will meet my friends for a tee time of 5:40 p.m. (it's 4:48 p.m. now) for nine holes. Procrastinating? Maybe. I have thought about canceling by text (the chicken-shit way) numerous times.

I went out and successfully hit a large basket of balls on the range (prepping for my tee time). My head hurts badly. Stroke? Or sunvisor too tight? My back hurts. Stroke? Or boot camp? After all, I did have to stalk like a bear, jump like a frog, and crawl like a crab. I've already taken one nap, and I feel as if I could go back and sleep until tomorrow morning. Stroke? Or the 120-degree weather?

All this could be a master plan to psyche myself out of the golf game. I know that this is the truth. Thank God I can recognize this pattern of behavior and stop it. I will go play golf. I will go and I will have fun. I will go, have fun, and play my best. I am lucky to be able to do this. I will go, have fun, play my best, and not give a darn if I splice every single hit or tear up patches of grass.

This is a silver lining moment. I don't take things for granted anymore like the old Sara might have. The fact that I CAN go play golf and have friends willing to play with me is a gift in itself. So, off I go...not taking this day or opportunity for granted and on the other side of the coin, not taking golf or what people may think of me too seriously. FOUR!!!!!!