Joining a Meetup group

This week started somewhat differently.  I felt more uplifted in spirit and zesty even. Perhaps the last busy work week got my engine running on higher gear. And the momentum caught on.

With the start of the new football season, I had the TV for company during my weekend nights. Even since hitting mid-life I was a die-hard English Premier League football fanatic.  Jenny bore up with my mad obsession though she had no interest in the game, complaining only when I got too boisterous cursing when my favourite team, the Mighty Reds turned up not so mighty with a bad run of play.

Over the weekend I had even responded to a local Meetup group to meet and play Volleyball on sand. Meetup is an online social networking portal that facilitates people who are unified with a common interest to actually get together.  This is the second time I had actually responded to a Meetup invitation. A couple months ago I had also agreed to meetup for an open microphone singing session. But I got cold feet.  

Anyway, the game was arranged on Tuesday evening at a condo no more than 10 mins drive from my workplace and the timing was perfect.  I have been yearning to join a volleyball group for some time. I had enjoyed playing this game at a social level from young but it was like more than 10 years ago since I last played so I was unsure of responding to the open invite.  Come Sunday evening, I realised they had only 1 slot left so I decisively RSVPed to claim it.

As expected, the other 10 or 11 players who turned up were a lot younger, by decades even.  Most were Caucasian expats so were a lot taller and stronger.  The volleyball court is a sand pit so we played beach volleyball, another first for me.




Volleyball on Sand Meetup group

So how did the game go for me? Well the good news was that I did not seriously injure myself. I knew all along that at my age, jumping to spike or diving to save a wayward ball would be darn risky. But other than muscle strain I escaped unscathed. Except my pride took some battering. Hence, the bad news was that my volleyball skills were too below par. It really felt a long time since I last played. I was slow and awkward, and performed miserably to the chagrin of my team-mates (we played 4 aside). Playing on sand exacerbated my clumsy movement and I was saved from embarrassment mainly because the other players were too polite to laugh.  In general, they were a civic bunch but after 4 or 5 games I knew I overstayed my welcome. My over-strained sinews were also prompting for an early exit. 

So will I go again next time, next week? That might be pushing my luck to the edge. For now my arms, shoulder and neck ached like hell, telling me that I should face up to the fact that there are things I should not be doing at my age. I could hear Jenny reproaching me, as she had done umpteen times before, “Look at yourself - you think you are still young?”  She always have my welfare at heart.

Yes, age is but a number as often said.  But the body has limits even if the mind is willing. I can still do a myriad of things but for volleyball, better to be a spectator.