Let’s talk about athleticism for a moment.
Back in the groovy 70’s, my mom was on her high school’s pep/drill team. She looked pretty hot, if I do say so myself. My dad was a rad football player who eventually entered into his high school’s hall of fame and had enough black belts in karate to kick Steven Seagal’s ass (to my childhood eyes anyway). My brother dabbled in baseball and karate before settling into Muay Thai, which has turned him into a lean, fighting machine (he’s definitely not mean). Hell, even my uncle was a fantastic baseball player and could have become a professional surfer!
Where does this leave me? I guess you could say I’m the runt of the litter, the athletic black sheep of the family. I hated soccer with a passion as a child, so I signed up for softball. I wasn’t any good. I got frustrated easily when I wasn’t able to do everything I wanted to do- even after hours of practice. Swimming was always fun, but I had no grace in the water. I was a cheerleader for a year, which was fun but, again, I was easily frustrated when hours of practice produced no improvement.
In high school I wanted a letterman jacket badly. It was my ideal status symbol; wearing one meant that I had achieved something worthwhile and noticeable. As a struggling perfectionist, I knew I would need to put in a lot of effort, but I didn’t let that deter me. I thought about joining cheer, and then realized I didn’t want to be stereotyped as a typical high school cheerleader. I considered volleyball because of my height, but then realized I had missed the late summer tryouts. I considered it a lost cause until spring, when our P.E. class was forced to try out different track and field sports.
Somehow, I fell into pole vaulting. The coach was hilarious, supportive and not afraid to be blunt. He knew his stuff, knew how hard pole vaulting was, but also reiterated how exhilarating it was when you finally sailed over the bar (after crashing into the standards, falling off the pads, snapping your pole and a host of other hazards). Suddenly, I was part of a team. But I hated team sports! I hated relying on other people, and the idea of dragging others down because of my mistakes was terrifying!
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| This girl is awesome. Thus, she is not me. I hated the short shorts! |
The glorious thing about pole vaulting, however, is that it was both a team sport and independent sport. You might miss the bar every single time and fail miserably that week, but it had no effect on your teammates. Indeed, there were several competitions where I was reduced to tears because I was so upset with myself. But hey, at least I hadn’t made my teammates lose too!
I never became a truly excellent pole-vaulter. I put in a lot of work (my shoulder still occasionally hurts from awkward missteps and botched plantings that swung me into the iron standards) but I guess the athleticism gene skipped me. I still managed to be proficient enough to earn enough points to letter though. By senior year, I was sporting my own cool jacket!
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| In front of I-sensei's lovely house |
This whole athleticism topic comes up because I decided to go skiing over the weekend. I-sensei has a second house in Karuizawa, which I think I’ve mentioned before. This time of year the town is covered in snow, so he decided to make another trek out there with his daughter, O-sensei and her daughter, and S-sensei. Sabina couldn’t come this time, so it was shaping up to a be a truly Japanese experience.
Skiing definitely has an easier learning curve than snowboarding, which I have tried only once. Still, I was really worried that I was going to break my leg or my neck. Come on! How many people do you hear about in the news who die from skiing accidents? Granted they are usually professionals….
Suffice to say, more than my feet made contact with the ground. Probably the most hilarious moment of the afternoon was when I couldn’t stop, ended up bumping into I-sensei, frantically wrapped my arms around him in terror and we flew down the rest of the hill with me attached to his back like a baby monkey. S-sensei nearly fell off her skiis she was laughing so hard.
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| No broken legs! Just aching joints.... |
However, by the end of the afternoon I was starting to get the hang of it. With a few more runs I could probably not look horribly embarrassing, but my body had reached its limit. Every muscle screamed out for me to stop and I had to give in. I like walking. I like walking without constant pain.
Sunday was spent lounging under the kotatsu and roasting next to the wood burning stove. It was snowing lightly; we were drinking coffee and tea and just chatting.
Everything was illuminated in that moment.
Three years ago was probably the lowest point of my life as a whole. If you had told me I would be living and working in Japan in just a few years, I would have thought, “Sure. Whatever.” If you had added that I would be happy and would come to view my coworkers as beautiful, kind members of a strange extended family, I would have called you crazy. The universe has been very kind.
The weekend was incredibly fun and I would love to try skiing again, preferably after being well rested. In the meantime, I will stick with the one semi-athletic thing I can do properly: riding horses.
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| He's always going to be the first love of my life |
