Sports (294#)

Hola amigos. I know it's been a long time since I rapped at ya, but I fell into a vast plate of fried chicken.

Actually, I've been hearing something strange from people lately.

"You don't need to lose any more weight."

I've gotten that from mom. She's just really excited that I've lost so much weight. I think I was probably my parents biggest worry, no pun intended, and I can understand why--it must be awful to contemplate burying one's own child, and I was certainly heavy enough for long enough to make that seem like a likelihood for a worrying parent. Plus I was wearing slimmifying black at the time.

I've gotten that from a friend of mine. Weird story, we communicate nearly exclusively through instant messaging, and the other day I was getting ready to leave for Vega$ and I was trying to decide if this new shirt I got (XXL. I can shop at normal stores and don't have to wear shit with "George Foreman" on it anymore. I'll have plenty more to say about that, trust me.) fit me. So I sent her a picture of me in it, and she said she'd guess I was 180 or something from it--and that the shirt fit. I'll see if I can figure out how to post a picture of it, and you can tell me what you think.

It's brown with pineapples.

Then, while in Vegas, Persia said I didn't need to lose any more weight while we were in post-lap-dance cuddle, or whatever the hell that is. And while I'm intuitively sure she's full of it--I mean, come on, either I'm the most special mother fucker that ever entered Sapphire, or she's making something up--I have to say, it was fun to hear.

I've also heard it from my racketball partners off and on since I resumed playing the sport in 2006, which brings me to the topic of this post.

I've played racketball for about 15 years, in very on-and-off fashion towards the end of that time--I'd play regularly for weeks or months on end, and then take a year or two off. I started playing with my mom, but that didn't last long--she wasn't very good. (Sorry, mom.) I graduated to dad when I was in junior high, and he always kicked my ass, but I gradually learned, and was beating him every so often by high school. Most of my friends throughout high school were into racketball to some degree or another, and I played with them a lot too. I'd probably played regularly about two years since 2000, and I'm certainly not rusty at present.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm pretty good at racketball. I probably would have been a C level tournament player when I was up there in weight. I would have gotten abused by passing shots and such, but I've got a solid backhand, you can't lob me, and my ball control is good enough that a C player wouldn't be able to coast.

But of course my stamina was mediocre at best, and the only reason it was that good was because I was lazy as hell on the court. I'd let close shots go more often than not, because I had to conserve my energy for the sure things, or so I'll rationalize. I'd catch myself actually thinking about whether going for a shot was worth it before reacting, considering how hard I'd have to work, and I kind of despised myself for thinking that way. Sure, it actually *was* hard work getting around the court, but I didn't like thinking like that because I thought if I really wanted to get around easier, I'd lose weight. That kind of thinking makes a man feel pretty ineffective.

Now I'm a bolt of greased lightning out there. That little hesitation of consideration never happens. I take a couple of plays off per game, but that's something I can work on not being so lazy about. I'm never tired enough that it's a physical neccessity. I'm quite hard to get a passing shot by, and I can go frontcourt to backcourt and back easily and expeditiously. About a dozen times a game, I'll make a play that I never would have made just three months ago. The racketball I remember playing in late 2004 and early 2005 makes me think of that underwater shootout scene, with all the cartoonish slow-mo implied, in Top Secret!

Since I've started playing racketball again, I think I've rediscovered what makes a sport fun. For the first time since my junior year of high school, I'm both reasonably effective on the racketball court and my limitations stem from my skill level, not a pathetic state of physical fitness. I can't tell you how happy it makes me to lose a point--if I have to lose a point--because I was out of position or fell victim to a kill shot Sudsy Monchick himself couldn't return, not because I'm a mastadon.

Thanks, mom and Persia and the rest of you, for your kind words on how I'm looking these days. But I think I've still got a little ways to go. When people who aren't trying to get my money or make me feel good or both are saying I don't need to lose any more, that's something I might listen to.

I was 294# this evening.