Couch potatoes? Why it's not so bad not to do sports
Life has a weakness for irony. For example, my two left legs, a miserable connective tissue, gave me the worst ball feeling in the nation (no, that's not what our World Cup squad has, but me) and? because that suits me so well? an environment filled with athletes. And I wonder: HÄÄÄ ???? Why does my boss have to be a triathlete, my best friend a volleyball wonder and my husband a trained personal coach? I just do not understand.
I want to be athletic. IMMEDIATELY!
At the latest when I met my husband, it was clear to me: this embarrassment of being the most unsportsmanlike person of all time must come to an end. A matter of will, I was sure. Once we were easily jogged a few miles to the train station to get the train. Okay, we only got a few meters. I was so exhausted and at the same time so ashamed that in my misery I pretended that I had fallen over and sprained my foot. The low point of my relationship, I know, I know. But on that day, my motivation was at the peak of my life. I wanted to be athletic. Immediately. And so I signed up the next day at the gym.
Fitness, zumba, surfing, volleyball
Let me keep it short: My active membership was limited to two motivated weeks. Then I ended up as a map oak. I tried zumba, surfing, volleyball, tennis, climbing, aerobics, swimming and kickboxing. Always with the "that-is-it-now" feeling in the minute before. But then I did not join the footsteps, swallowing gallons of salt water and slamming the surfboard's tree fifty times, watching balls as they whizzed past me and opponents in the face as they untethered me without effort. Yes, I know, no master has fallen from the sky yet. But what if you just can not enjoy the master? For example, the feeling after surfing could have been easier. I would just have drenched myself in front of a street lamp and had to make my head fire against it fifty times. So why the hell should I spend money on this feeling?
Finally a sports scientist who has a clue
Then I came across an interview in the Süddeutsche Zeitung. In that says sports scientist Hans Bloss the most beautiful sentence I've ever read, namely: "Yes, we can actually do without sports in life." Sport, he says, is for the privileged. Ever since I'm a mother, I know what he means. Much more important than pumping, throwing a ball and dropping the mast on his head is just enough movement in his opinion. To leave the elevator on the left, to take short walks and to carry out everyday movements mindfully and energetically help to lead a healthy life. He goes even further. In many cases competitive sport is even counterproductive for one's own fitness and health. Mr Bloss, I would like to tell you here and today: I love you!
And my husband still likes me
So I gave it up. I will never do sports. At least not as other people would define it. I'll just continue to romp with the kids in the garden, at least the first few meters to the train run (of course, only until I kink) and usually take the stairs instead of the elevator. More is just not in it and does not have to.
Incidentally, when I announced the death of my "Sports Gun" project, my husband only smiled mildly. "I know that long ago," he said calmly. "And does not it annoy you?" I asked back. "I mean, we will never get the train!" He just shrugged and sighed, "Then I'll carry you, so at least I'll be your hero." So note it down, Mr. Bloss: Not doing any sports can be really good for relationships!
