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My excessive energy, extreme narcissism, and intense love of neon-colored spandex is both managed and fueled by my addiction to fitness. I push myself to extremes and I push other people's buttons. Obviously I needed my own blog.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Ladies Who Golf

Back in January I was over my friends' apartment and we were all watching I Love You, Man on tv. For some inexplicable reason, Rashida Jones' character has the cutest golf clothes and yet has no idea how to play. I wanted cute golf clothes, and for these I was willing to learn how to play. Soon the idea for a ladies golf club materialized, and plans were made.

Two and a half months later, we finally got on that. Yesterday T and I navigated the West Side subway and bus system to arrive at Chelsea Piers. We spent the next hour at the driving range. T ended up being pretty good. I, however, couldn't remember a thing from all those junior golf lessons and tournaments my parents signed me up for as a child. I did remember my crush on the cute young golf pro, who was the only reason I agreed to these golf outings.

Golf is a sport that requires patience and form. I don't know what to do when I can't just hit harder, move faster, or flat out check someone to win.

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