The Golf Gypsy Roars!

I Am Woman

Murphy offered support but he couldn't hold me up either. 

Between roaring and growling I pushed myself up from my lazy chair, and off my lazy duff, threw down the yoga mat and tried to perform a plank for two minutes, while Murphy watched me from the side. When that failed, I grunted and moved to the hallway where I could use the bands to twist and imitate a golf swing, Murphy stood at my feet. Next, I walked the dog around the block muttering to myself "How could I have let this happen?" "Why did I think I couldn't work out?" "I am not an old crippled lady, I am a older woman who is angry at herself." "It's my job to stay healthy, no excuses." I felt better for it but Murphy seemed worried. 

The evil twin replied, "Yeah, but...remember how much it hurts to turn your hips; You know how you feel the next day after 90-100 swings on the golf course; why don't you go write or read another book like you did yesterday and avoid the pain?"

The evil twin has been with me since childhood. I know her well, but over the adult years I have learned to meet her head on and force her to leave. This winter, the injuries I sustained from the "dog fall" set me back. I rehabbed like a athlete, but it was winter and I still ached. Day after day I chose not to work out, or if I did it was only for a short while, not enough to get stronger. 

Snoopy is so wise...

Spring came and I entered a state tournament at Belmar Country club only to shoot a 100 on the first day. The last time I did that was in the late 90's at Prairie Dunes. I have never withdrawn from a golf tournament because of my game, even though my pride felt bruised. Instead, I sat down for dinner on the patio with golfers. Listening to the woes of other women who had shot scores way above their average, let me breathe and laugh. That evening I laughed on the way home rather than crying. 

Helen Reddy sings I AM WOMAN

The next day I played a respectable game and thought all was well enough. I sat down and told myself to accept that this cranky old body would keep me from playing a solid, consistent, and a respectable game of golf.  

My new Mantra--Accept who I am, Accept that I'm older. But something was missing.

I write words on my golf ball to remind me to stay in the moment. The words may range from sing to smile, shoulders to hips, flex and bend, relax shoulders, one shot, be present, rhythm to timing....

Bob Hope once said, "If you watch a game, it's fun. If you

play at it, it is recreation. If you work at it, it is GOLF."

When my mind wonders to the grocery store list while I am playing golf, I tell myself, "This is where I am. This is what I enjoy." This summer I have been saying, "Accept who I am, adapt to the old body." However, it felt empty. Something was missing in that mantra. 

Walking cleared my head and made Murphy feel better. He can tell when I'm out of sorts. Then I stepped out in the backyard and began swinging my 7 iron using only my left arm and left side to pull me through. Murphy thought I wanted to play, and he began to bark and bounce around me. Not safe, I told him.

He continued to bark at me. That's when I smiled and told myself to go hit golf balls. To really practice. To see if I could strengthen this older stiff body. My father's words pounded in my head, "If you don't practice you can't expect to be a better player." In my case, I wanted to be consistent and not embarrass myself. 

For the first time since last summer I hit range balls with my hybrids and woods. (Practicing my chipping and putting doesn't hurt and it reaps great rewards. Hitting the big clubs hurts my hips.)  Using dad's method of hitting 3-6 balls with my left arm following through and keeping my right arm/side from overpowering the swing, I could feel how weak I had become. I only practiced 20 minutes, but it was the best 20 minutes I could have expected. 

"I was determined to play the game well

or not at all."  Babe Didrikson Zaharis

The realized the word practice was missing in my mantra.  Can you see me smiling?

One super-duper muscle vibrator/relaxer, one squeeze ball for the hands, and the
golfer's second best friend, Voltaren. The Bio-freeze is on the
closet shelf and an extra one in my golf bag.  

New Mantra: Accept who I am. Accept that I am older and I will practice on the driving range only 20 minutes when needed.  

 I think I can. I think I can. I know I can. I will.