Here We Go Again
I’m going to stress the “to” part of “Gutter to Glory” today. As in #2. As in how I bowled last night… Yeah, it was stinky.
It did its part, but I didn't hold up my end of the bargain...
It wasn’t exactly shaping up to be the best formula for success at the start of the week. Three rough practice sessions produced only incremental improvements and latent frustration behind them. My body just wasn’t listening and I tried to find my way back to the fluid motion that I had for two weeks prior. It just wasn’t in the cards. My muscle memory was intent on mucking my form up and reestablishing its prior dominance. I could feel the pulls and tugs towards my old bad habits. It was quite odd, like a ghost of my former bowling self had strings attached to me and just wanted to see me fail (that or it was McGutters using some sort of magical invisibility cloak). On top of that, the oil during Wednesdays practice would have rivaled a middle eastern country’s exports… copious! I couldn’t get my ball to hook if I had attached it to a rope and pulled it.
Now, to be fair, I bowled above my average and putting perspective on it makes it seem a lot better. Failure and disgust now come in the form of a statistically average performance. That’s legitimate progress. Didn’t make me feel good while I whiffed on a ten pin or missed my target by four boards, but hey… can’t win ‘em all. Even against yourself. Which begs the question, if you’re going up against yourself and you lose, who wins?
I’m not going to get into too many gory details because reading numbers is really only exciting to the CPAs in the audience. Sorry, today’s post is going to be editorial. As you can already see.
Over-exaggerated display of sadness...
Anyway, I bowled games of 144, 166, and 165. Or as I like to call them Car Wreck, Disaster, and Failure. The scores say less about what happened than the look I sported on my face most of the time (nothing like what’s on the right, but the feeling was similar if you add some more anger and frustration). Sadness and dejection. Even when I did get a strike, it was on the wrong side covered in luck. I seriously think I threw four good balls all night (hit my target, good revs, in the pocket) and when I did the pins went BAM! I tried changing my ball, where I lined up, and would have switched out my underwear if that would have ensured some consistency. Basically, I was all over the place last night. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
There’s always a silver lining, though:
- I didn’t break any bones.
- I didn’t break anyone else’s bones.
- I wasn’t arrested.
- No one was watching.
- Failure is a higher number.
Joking aside, I can deal with what happened. 475 isn’t starvation or global warming. I can learn a lot from what did and didn’t happen and now I am even hungrier to get better. Because the floor keeps rising so that must mean the ceiling will too. That, or I’ll be crushed to death…
Stay out of the gutters!