This 4th, though, it really hit me how much I miss team sports. I like running because I can be alone with my thoughts, but I like football (and other team sports) for the opposite reason. When I played football, I wasn’t thinking about leaving in two months for a home that will undoubtedly seem strange to me. I wasn’t thinking about what a joke my love life is or how heartbroken I am. I didn’t think about anything except throwing blocks for my teammates and finding an opening as receiver. And I was much more fully aware that I was working out. Since I don’t regularly play football, I used muscles I don’t usually use and could really feel it later that evening and the next day and the day after that. But the soreness after a workout is such a satisfying pain because it’s a sign you did something worthwhile.
It was also really satisfying to be part of a team that worked as a team. Everyone on Peace Corps’ team encouraged one another and cheered each other on. No one got cranky or so competitive that winning became more important than team dynamics. I really like my fellow volunteers in that regard. We high fived and chest bumped and hugged and playfully punched shoulders. It was a refreshing demonstration of sportsmanship and what team sports should be about.
Increasingly I become more and more thankful for the way I was raised and sports are a part of that. I’m glad my parents demonstrated a lifelong interest in sports, playing tennis together even to this day as they hit their 70’s. I’m incredibly grateful my dad made sure I learned how to throw and catch a ball, bat left-handed, and shoot baskets. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t show appreciation for all the rough housing my older brothers put me through to toughen me up.