Crash..Bang...Into The Wall of Shame

As you all know, my volleyball team has been on a bit of a losing streak. One of the things I've been trying to promote is team chemistry because the lack of it is such a factor in our losses. Another thing is that losing doesn't seem to bother them...(Preview: they saw what someone who doesn't like to lose looks like after a loss.)

Sidebar: Last night we played 3 of 5 games instead of 2 of 3, and we finally won 2 games. Unfortunately, it was not enough to pull out the match win, but it was a step in a more positive direction for us. End of sidebar:

So, following last night's game, practice this morning included some running. The girls were scheduled to run 11 windsprints. They ran 6. The atmosphere had been a good one up to this point, so for some reason I told them they could pick who they thought was fastest and race me. If I won, they ran the rest; if they won, they didn't have to run anymore today. (Apparently I'm still pretty cocky about being a sprinter.) So, four of them decided they had nothing to lose and wanted to race me. Everyone started chanting; people from the hallway stuck their heads in to watch...it was a big deal...and it never crossed my mind that I would lose.

We line up, and I pick to run beside the fastest girl, (in reality I was only running against one instead of four, but the other three thought they would be in it). They say go, we start running...Brooklyn is a step ahead of me; "what's up?" I think. We get to the end and turn to come back, "I have to turn before she does," I thought As I turned, I tripped and FELL! How EMBARASSING! So, they ALL beat me. "Yuck!"

Those who know me, know I don't like to lose...it wasn't over. Yes, I was fair and they won the bet; earning not having to run. But of course I had to prove to myself that I can win, so Brooklyn and I line up to just run down, not back. This is my second mistake. We start, and again, I'm one step behind. The finish line is quickly approaching with Brooklyn still one step ahead. The only thing that I can think of to explain what happened next is that my gut, soul, and athlete in me hates to lose so much, that I instinctively lunged....

...and threw my body over the finish line. I still don't get it because I didn't tell my brain to dive, but apparently my brain told my body to do it without letting me in on the secret until it was too late.

Let me try to describe what it felt like. (Someone on the team could tell you what it looked like.) I hit on my knees, then stomach, then slid like a base runner sliding into home plate. I didn't think I was going to stop, but wait, lucky me! There was a brick wall waiting for my head to smash into it. I stopped. Hard. And somehow ended up crumpled in the corner of the wall and a beam. I'm just glad I didn't hit the beam. As I lay there on the floor, the first thing I thought was, "Oh dear; I've fallen twice and lost all credibility with these girls."

The first thing I heard was, "you fell again!?" So, now my pride and my body is hurt. Of course I didn't let the girls know I was hurting. They kept asking, "are you sure you're okay? That looked bad." NO, I didn't go for a third time.

I told them I was tough and didn't like to lose, that's all....(and apparently something good came out of it; it seemed to help them pull together a little. Even if it's because they were all laughing at me, I guess I'll sacrifice for the team.)

...and now I'm at home with a limp because my knee really, really hurts! But don't tell them.

Kenny told me that where I went wrong was not in challenging them to a race; he said that I didn't get them tired enough before challenging them to a race.

My dad told me that I'm old and have had a baby so my extra weight has been readjusted. (At least Kenny didn't say that!)