Birthday Cake

I was at the gym a few days ago, feeling lazy and unmotivated.  Many of you might ask why I was at the gym in such a condition, but my lack of motivation is why I needed to be there in the first place.  Enough said.  This isn't intended to be a post about weight or  working out, it is a post about CAKE.  I had 20 minutes to kill before my group exercise class and was in no mood to actually work up a sweat on a treadmill or bike.  Remember my earlier comment about motivation?!  I noticed the empty basketball courts and thought I would casually shoot a few hoops before the class.  I hid myself in the south gym where there are no windows.  Perfect strategy for a middle school basketball super star who doesn't want to be haggled by her crazed fans.

That 20 minutes of shooting and dribbling and passing at the wall was more of a work out than I was looking for, but I was reminded of something that made me literally fall on my back on the court and laugh out loud.  I recently celebrated a birthday.  I ate leftover chocolate cupcakes that I had baked for our Thanksgiving dessert.  On my 14th birthday, however, I ate chocolate cake frosted in orange, shaped as a basketball and decorated with the words "Happy Birthday, Shooter."  If, in the 8th grade, I really did live up to that moniker, I have certainly lost all shooting skills over the course of the last 19 years.  In the gym the other day, I didn't make a single shot outside the 3 point line.  I didn't even make a single shot from the free throw line.  I didn't even make a single shot without the help of that white square printed on the backboard.

That is precisely why I threw myself in a heap on that glossy wood floor.  As I lay there panting and sweating and laughing, I couldn't help but be thankful for my dad.  He always took me out on our backyard concrete pad and spent time shooting hoops with me.  Giving me pointers and playing games with me.  Maybe my height is the issue.   I've been 5'3" since junior high.   To this day, he says he's still waiting for that growth spurt he KNEW I was gonna have.

I suppose all that practice didn't pay off on the court, but it payed off in my heart.  The embarrassment of blowing the candles out atop a basketball shaped cake while my teammates and friends stood around me laughing silently has diminished completely.  What is left is an amazing memory of a family who encouraged me in everything I tried.

Moral of the story: take some time to laugh at your own inabilities and give credit to those who stood by your side regardless.

From the Mission Valley YMCA with love and laughter and a little bit of sweat,
Ali