As soon as I stopped laughing, my wheels started spinning.
Kickball season is approaching.
I get so excited. I could go on for hours about what I have planned for any given Sunday afternoon during kickball season. In fact, I am not now nor have I ever been “athletic” in any traditional sense whatsoever. Not at all. I will tell you one thing. Kickball. That’s it, really. Kickball. Kickball. Kickball. Kickball and more and more kickball.
I’m not saying that I could play kickball everyday. I’m actually very grateful that my kickball schedule isn’t year round.
In season, my entire life surrounds kickball.
Off season, I organize as many plans as I can with one or more friends who I play kickball with. I don’t really understand how it has happened that a small group of people has had such an impact on me.
I’ve tried to analyze it. I think about this terrific kickball league I am a part of that does all this wonderful good within the community. I think about my best friends – my teammates – and I think about my kids and the excitement they get from just playing in the dugout dirt while my husband and I run around acting like great big kids ourselves.
I get overwhelmed. I feel passion and enjoyment and fulfillment like I’ve never felt before. I’m not entirely sure my feelings are normal.
Kickball is a large part of my life. In fact, when I die, don’t forget to cover kickball in my obituary.