Women's Sports Information Articles

Sport Is Life

Check out your Sport!

Exclusive Articles Written by WSI's Own Editors

What to look for in a basketball shoe

How to pick a running shoe without breaking the bank.

Do you stretch before a game?

Choosing Hiking Boots

My Half Dome Story

How to choose a tent

Fast Pitch Vs. Slow,What You Need to Know

Is There (Athletic) Life After 40?

Is There Life After 40?
One Women's Personal View
On the eve of my 40^th birthday last year, a friend asked if I thought I was better or worse for turning 40. I gave it careful thought. On the one hand, I was intellectually better off. I was smarter, wiser, more mature. I was, I thought to myself, very comfortable in my own skin. Gone were the days of teenage angst trying to conform and please others, and being in my 20's where I wondered just where I fit in. Approaching 40, I liked myself, therefore, I had no need to think I needed to "fit in" anywhere. I was my own good company.

Over the years, work and family gave me the feeling that others depended on me, so it was nice to give of myself and not be so self-absorbed. The impatience and hot headedness of my youth seemed an unnecessary energy. I was resolved to stay calm and patient.

I also WAS smarter. I studied art in college because I liked to "make art", and that seemed like a logical conclusion. It was when I got to art school that I realized just how little I really know about "art". Now, after nearly 20 years of study, self exploration, and teaching, I feet like I know a lot about appreciating art by others and how to teach others to be creative.

Yes, I definitely like who I am now. But all mental and intellectual thinking aside, I turned my attention to my athletic life. Turning 40 was a blessing for all things mental and intellectual, but, to use a term the kids use, it sucked for all things physical.

Athletics have always been a big part of my life. I grew up with three older brothers, and followed them everywhere. They were always physically active, and that is how most boys in the neighborhood were, too. Their friends were my peer group and the ones I learned from. The community I grew up in related to each other by playing sports.

I have always said sports saved my life. Being physically active taught me strong life skills such as learning teamwork, setting and sticking to goals, and self-motivation. Playing sports helped me to relieve my stress of school and home life. It also had the added advantage of keeping my physically fit. In my teen years, I heard what the popular kids said about "fat chicks" and coupled with my desperate teen need to conform, or at least not stand out in anyway to draw "their" negative attention, I was glad I had a good, athletic body. That pride would help me to stay trim, even to my 40's.

Sports also gave me structure. I always had practice after school and homework after that. That was my job. Many teens in my small town, out of boredom and alienation, turned to drugs and alcohol, and dealt with the whole subset of problems associated with that. If I didn't have some sort of practice or game to go to the next day, I am sure I would have fallen into that pattern of destructive behavior, too.

When I was in my mid 20's, I met a fellow student who was only 2 or 3 years older than me. He was already overweight and on his way to becoming obese. Needless to say, he did not exercise. He confessed to me that he used to love playing sports, baseball, basketball, running around, just like me. My body language, maybe I glanced down to the gut hanging over his belt, maybe it was my dubious response, must have given me away, as I found that hard to believe. Yes, he tried again to assure me, he used to love being active. Then, he said, one day, his enthusiasm for sports just dwindled, until it slowly does. He had no motivation anymore. He had no desire to exercise or be active at all. And it will happen to me someday, he guaranteed. It was chilling to me. I thought I will never, ever get that way. I will never lose my enthusiasm for sports, I informed him. I'm going to run marathons when I am 80, I silently vowed. (yes, I did vow that. I was very geeky back then, too)

Well, guess what? As predictable as some bad TV sitcom, when I got older and reached my 30's, I did start to feel myself slow down. I used to jog on a track. Slow, plodding laps designed only to make me stay in shape. I hated it and quickly loss my enthusiasm for it. Exercise to stay in shape and stop weight gain was hard, cold, and no fun. Like many, it was easy to lose interest. I thought about my vow to run into my 80's. I was ready to give it up 50 years earlier than anticipated.

But in my mid thirties, I rediscovered organized sports. A friend invited me to a women only basketball league. It was a lot of running. It was a lot of sweating. It was steals, floor burns, and giving it your all. Flushed and exhausted, I loved it. I loved playing on a team again. It was fun, recreationally and socially.

But in my mid to late 30's, if I ran hard that night, I was very sore and stiff the next day. And if I did not do some sort of exercise when I was that sore, I would hurt even worse the day after that! I couldn't just jump into the fray. My muscles were not as supple as before, and I needed to stretch and warm up gently to avoid such pain the next day.

Injuries began to pile up. I kept jamming my fingers, and they seemed to take double the time to heal (in fact, right now, 3 of the 5 on my right hands are swollen to varying degrees). Then I sprained my ankle badly. I stepped on someone's foot, and my foot rolled 90 degrees from where it should have landed. Stretched ligaments and swelling, but nothing broken. Not so bad. It took me almost 8 months to get back to normal. The healing power of youth was all gone, misspent on scrapped knees as a child and all those all-nighters I did in college without caffeine. Once, I pulled a groin muscle severely. It took me over a year to have the pain go away. I kept re-injuring it every time I did anything physical. That was a hard injury to come back from.

I started playing other sports and found my arm strength was gone! Footballs floated high in the air instead of zipping along. It was hard to bend at the knees for ground balls in softball. And where did my jumping ability go? While not overly tall, my vertical leap could be measured in feet. Blocking used to be my specialty in high school volleyball. Now, I can barely get my finger tips over the net. And worse, I could feel myself become afraid of the ball, any ball. I was starting to lose my fearlessness. What if I got hurt again? That was scary in it's own right.

Then a few years ago, I decided once a week wasn't enough exercise for me. I tried running again, but I was too slow to do any cardio good, and the pounding hurt my knees. It would be easy to give up. But instead, I started to work out on an elliptical runner, where the machine mimics a running stride but your feet stay in contact with the runners, which has less impact on my knees. I could listen to music or just have half an hour to myself to "think" without having to pay attention to the terrain. It helped me stay trim, and more importantly, stay in shape for basketball, because I didn't want to let my teammates down. After a year of that, I added free weights for my arms. I felt strength coming back. By feeling physically strong, some of the old fearlessness came back. I welcomed it and made up my mind mentally that if I step on the court, I will give it my all, and not to worry if I MIGHT get injured. And this new-found joy of helping my team made me want to go all out again.

For me, discovering team sports was a way to stay motivated to stay in shape. Competitiveness, not the wining, mind you, but competing to see what my body could do, keeps me mentally sharp and physically fit. Yes, my body has slowed down since my 20's, but accepting it and working within my limits is still satisfying. I still need to take extra precautions, such as stretching, exercising every day, listening to my body and resting when hurt. Being on a team motivates me to try hard athletically, and stay in shape, more so then if I was just exercising on my own. I might not run marathons when I am 80 (heck, I don't even run marathons now!), but I think sports will help me to stay young.