No Longer Trespassing?

So Hubby and I had a very interesting experience this morning. We checked out the another world. The World of Fit people. We did this by venturing into a Sports Authority.

It's not like I've never been in a sports store. I buy things at one occasionally--like my favorite expensive socks--Thorlos. And in the past, I've sometimes needed a single something or other that lead me in and directly to the item.

And sometimes at Christmas I've been known to venture in for baseball shirts for my brother-in-law, or a bat for my nephew, or a football for my grandson.

But today, today was different. It was a new day.

We went in and stopped first at the golf clubs. Amazingly lightweight, these new clubs. I told Hubby, sure I'd consider hitting a few buckets of balls with him this spring. . .

An employee sped by us, calling out, "Finding everything you need?" I asked where swimming things were and Hubby caught me by surprise by saying, "And we're just looking around at some other stuff."

We moved on to swimming gear. I picked up a kickboard and a new pair of goggles since my were leaking. These are what I came in for.

But nearby were basketballs. . . sometimes Trainer Ray takes us into the basketball court at the gym for part of our workout. Usually we walk around it, occasionally jog, do some freeweights in there. He & Hubby sometimes shoot baskets. I joined in for the first time last week. Yesterday, he had us throw the basketball at the wall, have it bounce and then catch it. Pretty basic, huh?

OK, so at the risk of you finding out that, yes, I have been under some kind of recreational rock, this little exercise was exciting and motivational for me. I threw the ball at the wall, it came back and bounced, but I had to step back to catch it. Or step left. Or step right. Or step back two times. I looked over at Hubby and the woman working out with us to see how they were doing. Their balls were hitting the wall and coming down perfectly with one bounce so it basically tossed itself directly back into their hands. Hmmmmmm

So I make an adjustment, a kind of unconscious adjustment. And now my ball is coming right back to me too. It made me feel in control. In telling Hubby this later (yes, he is wonderful to listen to these banal self-aggrandizing monologues), I realized that I just threw the ball a little lower on the wall and with a little less force. Recognizing what I had done made me feel powerful.

When we started walking, I held onto my ball and dribbled and walked. . .

Today in Sports Authority. I picked up several balls and experimented with dribbling. Like unruly kids, Hubby & I dribbled and then tossed balls to each other, sometimes bouncing sometimes not. We picked up a standard indoor/outdoor basketball. . . there are courts in our neighborhood, we could play horse, try shooting some baskets.  I am not to throw the ball against the house, Hubby tells me. But, hey, there is the driveway. . .

We moved on to look at rackets for racketball. . . there are courts in the gym. Hubby says it could be fun. But then he decided one tnew hing at a time would be a good idea. So I didn't suggest to him that we also buy mitts and a softball; you know I've never caught a ball in a glove. . . but one thing at a time, let's get the basketball separated from its packaging. . . let it see the sunlight. . . meet the pavement. . .

We're still aliens, but I think we're on our way to not be visitors in this new land any longer. . .