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athletically illiterate.

September 28, 2011

This past weekend I was faced with a stark reminder that not everyone can be good at everything. Like for example, I cannot run, jump, catch, or pretend to care about being knocked down for the sake of a frisbee. I have always been and continue to be, completely and utterly, athletically illiterate. I can’t say that I’ve really put forth an effort to get better at my lack of skill. But I can say that I’ve embarrassed myself enough to know that no amount of practice would ever make me enjoy participation in sports beyond that of a spectator.

In fact, I spent most of Saturday standing in big fields, watching teams of people chase various forms of athletic equipment around in seemingly endless circles. I of course was intended to also be chasing said equipment as I was actually designated a team leader of these recreational athletes. But really, what’s the point in pretending? Inevitably I will fall down, twist something and hear the words “walk it off”. I’m so clumsy, it’s miraculous if I don’t injure myself on the way into my office every day. My shoes are tall and the parking lot can be treacherous.

That all being said, I’m never more uncomfortable in life then when a group of people are looking at me to hold my own in a game of anything. Look to me to balance your checkbook. Or clean your toilet. But for everything good and holy in this earth, DO NOT call my name in a game of Red Rover. Just let me stay right on over… here, where it’s calm and I don’t have to run anywhere. I’ll never get up enough speed to break through that chain anyways. Just let me work on my tan and enjoy nature and we’ll both leave here happy.

With all the sloth and athletic apathy in my heart,

your sassy bella

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