As An Athlete, Getting Old

I suppose if it were possible to determine such a number, I would be in the upper 25% of men my age as it relates to physical fitness and health. I can still bowl in the 190s rather consistently, can shoot low 90s and occasionally high 80s in golf. My life has pretty much centered around athletics, specifically baseball and basketball, since I was 9 years old. However, at age 61 I am no longer able to do the things I used to do, partly because of deteriorating skills and partly because of limited opportunities. And I find I'm not going gently into that part of my life.

Part of my current problem is due to the fact that I was a pretty good athlete at one time. Baseball paid for a large part of my education, and I enjoyed quite a bit of success. I was able to play competitive fast pitch softball into my 40s, and had a string of about 4 years where I never took a swing and missed the pitch entirely. Haven't swung at a pitch competitively in almost 20 years, but I doubt I could continue that streak at that point. James Michener, in his work "Sports in America," written in the late 70s, devotes a chapter to the athlete past his prime. Some psychologists have noted a trend that boys who are successful athletes in their early years tend to never grow past adolescence--at least socially. There is a great movie with that theme, "Everybody's All American," starring Dennis Quaid, where he is a football player, Heisman trophy winner, who plays well past his prime because he still revels in the glory years. He and his best friend, played by John Goodman, get together at bars and still talk about their Glory Days. I have friends who still talk about specific high school contests whenever we meet for reunions. I'm kind of dealing with that now, because those outlets are no longer available to me. When it comes to physical activity, the greatest joy in my life is still throwing a baseball. The ending scene of Field of Dreams still gets to me, when Kevin Costner gets to play catch with his Dad. I used to be a pretty good outside shooter with a basketball, yet now if I make 2 out of 10 it's a good day. For a long time I was about to vicariously experience the thrill of athletic competition through coaching, and I enjoyed more than my share of success at that. But that fire eventually went out, and I am faced with replacing those joys for the rest of my life.
Which brings us to the main outlet available to me these days--running/walking. Even when I was a good athlete, I hated those things!! Now I try to get out and walk/jog nearly every day, because my sedentary life has also added to my waistline. I played at under 140 pounds in college, and these days I fight to stay under 190. And in addition to not enjoying running, I don't have the gifts for it. I have friends in church who ran their first 5k today, and finished together as a family in 34 minutes. When I was running regularly about 10 years ago, I don't think I could have broken 30 minutes. And, because I'm so competitive, if I can't be good at something, I don't want to do it--that's the adolescent in me, I think. I truly enjoyed competing at a high level, but I also enjoyed talking about it. And I know it's healthy for me to exercise, but that's not why I do it. I do it in hopes of hearing someone say, "Man, you looking goooooooooood!"
I know there is a "runner's high" that serious runners achieve and can't do without. I don't ever expect to experience that high!! But I probably know what it feels like--kind of like when I hit a 2-run single for a walkoff win against LaVerne in college. Or being the only pitcher in the nation to shut out Grand Canyon College in 1970. Or my girls basketball team overcoming a 10-point deficit in the 4th quarter against Ventura to reach the CIF finals in 1992. See, there's that adolescent glory thing again--the one redeeming factor in this is that if you are among my new friends at FCC that's probably the first you've ever heard of those achievements.
So I'm not so much worried about living in the past as much as I am worried about how to continue to try to fill that void in the future. Coaching high school kids isn't much fun any more--they either don't care enough or they think they know more than I do. I don't think I have the patience to coach the little ones. I don't have high school baseball teams knocking down my door to pitch batting practice to them--and I'd probably have to do it from 40 feet instead of 60.
I don't do tennis, weights, ski on any surface. I suppose it would be easier if I found someone else in the same situation and we could be miserable together!!