Game Five

I played volleyball my entire life. Hence the name of this blog – the postpartum depression of a collegiate athlete. Originally, I wanted to write a book, that being the title. It summed up perfectly how I felt when I started writing on here. Depressed. Being an athlete my whole life was part of my identity and suddenly it was taken away. Not my whole identity, but a big part of it. It was part of who I was. And then, it was gone. I was not longer a setter. I no longer went to practice. Like any other break up, it takes time to discover yourself again. You fill the hole you feel in your life with other things. You start to feel complete again. But I realized that there were some indispensable things you learn as an athlete. So here's my first sports/life analogy. Hopefully there will be more...we'll see.

Live Life Like Every Second is Game Five.

So here's a quick volleyball lesson...College volleyball plays a best of 5 set format. The first four sets are played to 25 points. The fifth and final deciding set is only played to 15 points. All games must be won by two points. All games are played using rally scoring. That means that every time someone makes a mistake (i.e. hits it into the net, misses a serve, hits the ball out, etc.) the other team gets a point. So you can see how important that 5 set really is. It's fast. No room for error, but also no room to be timid. You just get out there and leave it all on the floor.

That's how we should live life...like it's the fifth set in the biggest match of our life. Well because it is.

It's your life. Do you need another excuse to put yourself out there. A bigger reason? A better excuse? You shouldn't.

Regret not

Just don't. Do what you need to do when you need to it. Don't regret not being strong enough to stand up for yourself. Don't regret not speaking up. Don't regret not following your heart. Don't regret not following through on your instincts. Don't regret not telling someone exactly how you feel. Just don't. Because trust me, you will wake up tomorrow and regret not doing it. Regret Not! Just don't.

Kick a pigeon

The pigeons in downtown St. Louis keep getting worse. First, just a couple would loiter around, pecking and cooing. Fine. I can handle a couple of pigeons.

Slowly, the word got out. St. Louis is a mighty fine place to peck and coo, they told each other. Now they are everywhere.

If someone had drop kicked a couple of those early pigeons, other pigeons around the country would have heeded the warning and stayed away from St. Louis.

I guess that's why they say hind site is 20/20.