First Day at the Beach

Last Thursday marked my first day at the beach. It was about 65 degrees and cloudy and not a bit of wind, which turned out to be the perfect playing conditions ever. There was no sun to blind me, no wind to blow my serves every which way, and just cool enough that long volleys didn't end in me gasping for air about to pass out with heat exhaustion.

Also the guys who came out to play were great too, I wasn't the worst one there, which stroked my ego just a bit. And we were all pleasant and tolerant enough of each others mistakes while still exemplifying the desire to play hard enough that each of us got our volleyball fix by the time the sun set. We played straight for about 2 and half hours, three on three, barely any breaks between games. I felt.....very satisfied. I spiked some well, serves some great and bumped some awesome. I also made a lot of mistakes, which always motivates me to play more so that I can learn to make less.

I know what the summer has in store for me, too. Rainy days and windy days, stormy days and lightning over the water and drops that cool me down and wash my sweat away. Hot hot hot days and awesome sunset skies that go purple and pink and paint the clouds all manner of beautiful. Burnt skin and hot feet bottoms. Dehrydated bodies and sandy asses, which subsequently lead to sandy bags and sandy beds....Sore arms and stubbed fingers, cute boys and competitive girls. Ball hogs and players who think they are better than they are, sore losers and worse, players who think they are better than me because I am not thin, or because I am not a boy, or because I am not white. I can also look forward to late night nourishment on the patios in the hood, and reminiscing about the night and the past with friends, new and old, young and old, and from all walks of life.

It should be a good summer, including all the things I love about Chicago and all the things that keep me humble and remind me to be thankful.