Weakness Leaving the Body

Alright alright, I'm a wimp.

I don't like getting hurt, it's really just that simple. I do an extremely low-impact workout. I blow on my tea before sipping. I collect novelty band-aids because everybody knows a cut heals faster when it's covered by Optimus Prime.

However, after the disaster that was last week's game and my new-found resolution that I'm not a quitter, I decided to really try to be aggressive at this whole volleyball thing. About twenty minutes into the first match and I said, "Wow, this hurts."

"Embrace the pain!" the guys laughed, obviously amused that I was suffering over something kind of pathetic.

Okay, I thought. Embrace the pain. I can do that. I'm not a quitter. RAWR!

I embraced that pain and I went after that ball. Except, you guys, I'm really not that great at depth perception. That's why I do hair: it's all close to me and I don't have to guess trajectories and speeds and spins on the fly. So pretty soon, I got hit in the face by a supersonic volleyball.

HOLD THE PHONE!

Um, I did not sign up for this. I had a little moment in my head that went something like this: Waaaahhhhhhh!!!  I had really thought my days of getting bludgeoned by sports equipment were long over. Not so!

I collected myself and carried on. Despite a sudden headache, I was still embracing pain. I think it was actually my ornery streak coming out and saying, haha everybody expects me to fall apart so I'm NOT just to spite them. That's kind of silly because nobody really expected me to fall apart, but sometimes I just gotta draw strength from wherever I can.

After the last match we ran some "terror drills" which were basically comprised of Isaac reigning big scary serves at me and Miriam so that we could conquer our fear.

"Pretend the volleyball is Aveda!" Mom called from the sidelines.

That's when I got serious, y'all.

Now it's the morning after.

MY ARMS HURT.

Embrace the pain, my foot! This is not okay! :(

My favourite lyric is *instrumental*

Life Lessons: Volleyball Edition

I'm pretty bad at volleyball.

For starters, the whole hand-eye-coordination thing is tough. And being aggressive, ahhh, it's not my strength. I see that volleyball flying toward me and I think, that's going to hit me in the head and I'm going to die. I get awful tunnel vision and I sort of lose my motor function in blind panic.

So, why did I join a volleyball team? Bad decision, Emma. Perhaps you should return to low-impact sports, such as crafting or watching TV.


We had our first game today. For our very first match, we played the setting sun. The combination of sun and sweat in my eyes immediately made me start crying uncontrollably. Not the best start to the game, people. From there I pretty much tumbled downhill. I think I said "Sorry!" approximately twelve million times. It's sort of extra humbling when you're playing with really good people and you're obviously dragging the team down.

My time at school really shook my confidence. Confidence in myself, in other people, and even in God. Going outside of my comfort zone feels especially vulnerable right now. So after the game today, I walked away resolved to quit the team.

But you know what I did  learn at school?

I'M NOT A QUITTER.

By golly, if God can get me through ten months of Aveda, He can get me through a volleyball game!

I realized that early on, I started focusing on how badly I was playing. I began to passively feel sorry for myself instead of actively playing the game. I may be pretty bad at volleyball, but I'm not terrible!

So here's my volleyball resolution: Fake It Til You Make It. I'm going to stay positive, I'm going to go after that volleyball, and I'm going to learn from my mistakes. And I'm not going to quit.

This, including the dance moves.