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Category Archives: Sports
I’m no good at being a fangirl. That rabid memorization of metadata – team rosters, stats, trades, rankings – I don’t do well. What I do well is wear whatever jersey you feel I need to wear to bed, as a pseudo-sexual show of appreciation for <insert favorite sports team here>, but otherwise, could care less of the name across the breasticles, as long as the fabric stretches.
My reason for enjoying football is because it reminds me of my childhood. Growing up in the southern region of Germany within minutes of major cities, you couldn’t avoid getting caught up in the hype, the esprit de guerre, the fierce loyalty to team (and country once the World Cup came around). In my region, our team was Bayern Munich. As a teenaged girl, I cheered on their gorgeous, sculpted bodies. Tor! Tor! Tor!
Now I’m attempting a dedication to the Tampa Bay Rowdies! My friend Guy Delaney with the Rowdies got me great seats for last week’s opener, along with a magnetic decal for my truck and two t-shirts to look the part. I faux-hawked my hair, painted bright green and gold on my eyes, then whooped it up at Al Lang Stadium while cheering on gorgeous, sculpted bodies, er, I mean, a dedicated team of professional athletes who proudly call Tampa Bay home!
This is what you get for being a literary arts booster; when you put yourself down as a stand-in, you might actually have to stand in. And just that happened during last night’s Keep St Pete Lit’s Lucha Libro! Part of St Petersburg’s SunLit Festival happening through next Sunday. I ended up as one of the literary luchadores. No mask, but definitely scary hair :D
Lucha Libro works like this – writers are matched off over semi-reliable typewriters, given a word, and then five minutes to compose something around that prompt. The crowd decides of the luchadores who wins the round. Most people were probably expecting this:
But it turned out to be much milder, a wonderful array of diverse styles and interpretations, a fun folly I was glad to join in on.
First Round: GANADORA! Word: Shrouds
Second Round: GANADORA! Word: Seethed
Third Round: PERDEDORA Word: Naked
I spent the last two years of high school with this grueling schedule:
7am – 8am: color guard practice
8am – 4pm: honors courses
4pm – 6pm: marching band practice
7pm – 2am: work at my brother’s store
3am – 6am: homework and maybe sleep
You can imagine how difficult it was for me to have a semblance of a balanced life then!
The nights I was not scheduled for work, I took myself to Red Team Gym, a fitness facility located on Fort Hood. This was my favorite place to pump out the stress of my so-called life.
Red Team was not the family-friendly gym; Red Team was for the serious body sculptors, the gals and guys who, after dismissed from duty, didn’t run straight to the barracks to their game consoles, but instead, to their sweats and back supports.
The gym was my happy place. Women weren’t segregated from men and everyone shared the equipment respectfully. Amongst my kindred I pressed, pushed, and howled through reps until I felt deflated, which meant, I felt good. The entire gymnasium was alive with random shouts and applause of positive affirmations. Gym rats, the lot of us, but we all felt worlds better after a challenging workout.
A year into university, on the first day of Weightlifting class, I simmered in quiet dismay as I absorbed my new free weight comrades: scrawny, nerdish, physically unwell, insecure. All males. No ladies. Not at all what I was used to! Guess SWTSU didn’t have any other warrior women on campus that semester?
Every class day I experienced disappointment. Since the boys wanted to keep it insular, the instructor had to force students to pair with me. The only guy who would throw just a minimal amount of shade my way had a heavy foreign accent and spoke completely indiscernible English. He also suffered from constant workout boners, and his strict adherence to tight pants certainly did not improve our partnering situation!
The scary part was pairing with someone who was so dedicated to his insecurity, he’d overload the bars. I knew deep down in my heart the weight was crippling him, but, as I’d slide my hands under the bar ready to catch, they’d scoff or tell me to back off, while their arms or legs wiggled for mercy!
Most the time, I spent Weightlifting class arms folded, waiting for my turn at the bar or bench, while the fellas chummed it up, curling Gatorade into their faces like dumb bells, using the benches as recliners, the bars as towel holders. I would’ve been completely content to work out on my own, but class rules required pairing. I left every session feeling less accomplished and more frustrated.
I signed up for Weightlifting class naively assuming the camaraderie and support I experienced at Red Team was universal, only to find extremely unmotivated, apprehensive people. That experience brought to light a fitness surety: no matter what weight, no matter what experience level, self-discipline is what begets success in body sculpting. Support comes from equally self-disciplined people.
After making an A in the course, I invested in the campus recreational facility, abandoning the nostalgia of Red Team Gym and focusing on my health, which was and still is the priority.