The Falling Star... Athlete

I don't know what it was about the age of 25, but that is when my body decided to throw in the towel. It was also a turning point in my life -- the point I went from an athlete to a former athlete in my own mind.
I don't know when you officially become a former athlete, or if you ever really do. For me, though, it came when my body could no longer handle the physical demands of a sport that had been second nature. Softball-- when you hear the word, I'm sure vivid descriptions pop into your mind, maybe not all so politically correct. To me, it was a sport that I fell in love with, and ultimately a sport that paid for college. I mean, that was the goal all along, right? Summer after summer of practice and tournaments so that you could get recruited to play college ball. But what do you do with all of those skills and all of that time that was previously consumed by your sport of choice? I thought it was going to be easy. Hang up the cleats and move on to something else. For me, that something else turned out to be its own kind of crazy, news radio. However, a few short months after my college graduation, I started yearning for the field and the physical demand of my sport. So naturally I turned to slow pitch softball... a place where former, would be, and still aspiring to be athletes go to die on the turf of replica big league parks in Hometown, USA.
For a couple of years that is all I really needed -- to be a part of team and thrive on the competitve spirit that lives inside of me. That is until my second major knee injury. You're probably asking yourself right now.. how in the hell does somebody blow out their knee playing slow pitch softball? You don't. You do it trying to play basketball for an alumni game at a school you haven't been back to in a good 8 years or so. The knee injury, though, was a rude awakening. Stuck on my couch, relying solely on my soon-t0-be husband for everything from a glass of water to a helping hand to the bathroom. It was hard to take, and it was a hard recovery.
My way of dealing with a difficult recovery was to push myself to the limit... the only thing I ever knew when it came to sports and injuries. That meant pushing myself in physical therapy, hitting the gym three months out, and, of course, returning to the field as soon as I could jog to first base. It wasn't the same, though. I couldn't run as fast, I couldn't slide into second... I just wasn't the same. But, what was my life going to be like without sports... more importantly, without softball? It had been there since I was 12.
About a month after my 25th birthday and about three months after my surgery, I was offered a coaching job at a local high school. I would be in charge of the pitchers and catchers (only the best position on the field) and the offense of my former high school's softball team. At first, it was difficult, adjusting to an atmosphere where you have no control. It is simply your job to teach them the skills and put the ball in their hands. By the end of the season, I had found my new passion. This last year I moved from the high school level to the college level and coached under one of my former summerball coaches. The girls seemed to soak up what I had to say and you could see it translate on the field. Coaching is definitely one of the most rewarding experiences of my life so far.
Coaching, though, made me realize that it was time to hang up my own cleats. Instead of pushing my body to the limit, it was time to hand over the torch and teach somebody else how to leave it all on the field. It was a diffucult transition, my fall from the top if you will. But it was time to give up that idea of being a great athlete forever.