You have to play to get better

Hope you all had a nice weekend. The weather here was pleasant enough (super muggy) after a very wet week, so I spent a lot of time outside.

Saturday I enjoyed National IPA Day in my fave place in the world, my backyard.

I subsequently learned that I had jumped the gun and that National IPA Day actually is not any specific date but rather the first Thursday of August. So I’ll consider Saturday a practice run and say, “watch out, Thursday.” 😂😂😂

Yesterday, Sunday, well, that was another story altogether:

Regardless of my official professional status (unemployed, underemployed, pretired, semi-retired, retired), I do need to think ahead to when the status is officially official and without question retired retired.

I want to travel. But that’s obviously not going to be a once-a-week thing. Unless I play and win the lottery. (Which I plan to do today.)

But besides that and this time here, what else will I do?

Which is where a good walk spoiled comes into play.

Golfing is fairly popular in retirement.

And while Kerri is a few years behind me on the woman of leisure track, she loves to golf and plays every chance she gets.

But I don’t love it.

Because I’m not good at it.

Try to keep your head down. Knees bent but not too much. Hinged at the hips but not too much. Tee the ball up high enough but not too high. Unless you’re using an iron then tee it up low. Stand close to the ball but not too close. Easy, relaxed swing with tempo. Let the club do the work. Play the ball off your front foot. Unless you should be playing it off your back foot. Or in the middle. All the while wondering which f-cking club you’re supposed to be doing all this with.

If you’re on a hill or in a bunker, then it’s all different.

And then, when you hit a sh-tty wayward shot, you have to announce it to the whole course and yell “Fore!” really loud.

So fun, right?

Not at all.

This is how golf works. You play. You suck. You play 2 months later. And while it hardly seems possible, you suck even worse that the time before.

It’s the vicious cycle of the game.

So let’s get to my haiku, maiku, since it is Monday after all:

Another Sunday.
Another nine holes of golf.
That’s love for ya. Right?

I knew I had to break the cycle once I came to realize that not liking golf wasn’t the root issue—I was. I like being active. Love being outside. Love walking. Love spending time with Kerri. And I’m coordinated enough that I should be able to figure it out—head, knees, hips, feet, swing, blah blah blah.

So we’ve golfed three times over the last four weeks at the 9-hole course on the other side of town.

And I still suck.

But…not as bad. Yesterday I hit more acceptable shots than horrific ones. And lost only one ball.

So needless to say, I actually can see a not-so-distant future where maybe there are more good shots than bad ones. An occasional par. But it will require regular if not weekly play. Maybe a lesson here and there. A little commitment.

And a lot of patience.

(TBH, Kerri can’t play next Sunday and I was a bit sad about missing a week—I’m not confident enough to go solo just yet. So now we’re gonna try to play Saturday. 😊)

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t ever see myself giving up an entire Summer Saturday and spending it at the course. But I can see myself playing 9 holes once or even twice a week. Maybe even an occasional 18 on a weekday. Or a weekend during the shoulder season.

Bottom line, as I mentioned, is Kerri loves to golf. And eventually we’ll be not working at the same time. So I might as well get to practicing now so when we reach that point, we can have fun, together. And maybe by then I won’t suck so much.

All of that said, admittedly, Imposter Syndrome tags along and sometimes I hear the big sister (Lisa) from Dirty Dancing in my head as I walk toward the first tee: “Quite a little joiner now, aren’t we baby?”

And I am, kind of.

But as “they” say, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. And as my life unfolds, I’m learning that if I don’t join ’em, I might find myself beaten into boredom in retirement…and loneliness.

So for now, I’ll keep practicing.

And I’ll keep spending this time with you, too.

I love it here and I appreciate you showing up for me.

Have a great week.

Love you too.

Apologies if I’m a little nasally in this one. It’s early and my sinuses aren’t awake yet. 🤣🤣🤣

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