Last year, I decided that the girls needed a sport. Now i should warn you, that I’m way too overprotective. I wouldn’t let my kids do gymnastics because I was worried about their knees. I don’t let them walk around the block unless they have my Great Dane in tow. I have to personally interview the parents of any child they want to visit. I admit, I’m a bit ridiculous, but I just love those girls so much, and I want to send them off to college in one piece.
So they needed more exercise, and it had to be fun.
Dancing? Yea right, so I can blow an extra 200 bucks for a costume they will get to use once every time their teacher wants to put on a show. No way. (You ever notice how they like to plan those shows right in the middle of the busiest times of year?)
Maybe I could get them into a team sport like softball or soccer. Not a chance. I’m not giving up every evening for the next decade. Not going to happen. Especially when they have games on Sunday. No way.
So I was thinking golf. Golf is fun, you get to walk around outside. There is plenty of time to blabber about the weather. I like golf. Not to mention there is no injury as long as you don’t get mad enough to start throwing your clubs. Not only that, but it’s a sport you can do all of your life. It seemed like a great choice.
Then I went to see how much it would cost. Ouch. Nope, not going there.
Then we found disc golf.
Holy cow, this is some serious fun.
We got ourselves completely set up for under $100, and the courses around here are fun, public, and FREE.
I really, really like free.
So we go a whole lot, and to be honest, the girls seem to enjoy it, and do ask to go. I however have become a fanatic. It’s a bit silly, but I’ve got my little notepad, and I’m measuring my improvement with spreadsheets and graphs by the week, month and year. I’m totally crazy about it.
It’s just so darn relaxing, and at the same time a real challenge.
However, it all changed one day about six months ago.
I got a hole in one.
It was so beautiful. It was like the world just was turning at the right speed.
I screamed like a little girl at a Justin Bieber concert.
I’m thinking I should go professional.