A couple of years ago, my husband Anthony helped start a local touch rugby league. Playing rugby had always been a favorite activity of his but there surprisingly weren’t any leagues in our neighborhood.
I was proud of Anthony for starting the league. Not only was it a great way for him to stay active, but it was the perfect opportunity for him to make more friends. Plus, while he was playing rugby with his guys on Saturday mornings, I went running with my girlfriends.
My run would often end earlier than Anthony’s game, so I’d jog over to the field to watch the end of his match. It was fun to sit in the grass and talk with the other wives and girlfriends while the guys played.
One Fateful Morning
One Saturday I arrived straight from my run, took a seat in the grass and began watching the end of the game as usual. During the match, one of the guys took a sharp turn and came down hard, injuring his ankle. The team was down a player, and there were no subs to help finish out the tied game.
The guys looked over at us, none of whom were prepared or dressed for any sort of physical activity … except me. With my ponytail pulled tight, my sneakers on and my heart rate already up and going, I was physically ready for sport. Whether I was mentally ready was another question!
As I hesitantly volunteered myself to join Anthony’s team for the last few plays, a million scenarios played out in my mind. I imagined the ball being thrown to me and me running the wrong way. I imagined getting trampled by the defense on the other team. I imagined Anthony telling me I was the worst rugby player he’d ever met.
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A Game of Surprises
Luckily, I didn’t have time to consider more awful outcomes of my 10-minute rugby career. The game started as soon as I arrived at the imaginary start line (I didn’t even know if that was the technical term). The play started, and I ran toward the end zone, looking to dodge the defense and make myself available for a pass. I watched a teammate throw the ball to another team member, who caught the ball and made some progress. After a few minutes, I realized, playing rugby with the guys wasn’t hard at all!
I wish I could end this story with an awesome slow-motion scene where I caught the ball and scored a try (rugby’s version of a touchdown) during the last second of the game, but that honestly wasn’t what happened. What happened is that I was basically an extra body on the field, not exactly contributing to the game. But hey, I wasn’t detracting from it, either.
I was actually quite proud of myself for getting out of my comfort zone.. Plus, at the end of the game, Anthony told me I was the best rugby player he’d ever met. To me, that’s pretty much the same as scoring a try so, in my books, the whole experience was a success!
Have you ever ventured out of your comfort zone? What physical activity or sport do you want to try? Share in the comments below!
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