By Jay Hiller, June 12, 2023
Photo by Valeriia Miller on Unsplash
The story of my first kickball game, might be the story of why for a long time, I thought of myself as someone who didn’t like to exercise. My family lived in Bogotá, Colombia for most of my first 4 years of elementary school. P.E. in the private school I attended was a lady with a British accent, a pixie haircut and cat-eye sunglasses teaching us calisthenics. I remember liking one of her exercises, happy cat, angry cat, a version of cat/cow, one of my favorite yoga poses. When I was at home, for safety reasons I couldn’t go in the front yard and find other kids to play with, so I spent a lot of time in my room reading comic books. On Sundays I took horseback riding lessons.
In the middle of third grade my family moved to Peekskill, NY and I began attending a public school there. I had absolutely no idea what kickball was when my class went outside and I was confused. I remember thinking that the game was unfair because there weren’t enough bases for everyone to stand on one. I don’t think I knew the phrase this is bullshit at that stage of my life, but that was what I was thinking. It was also the beginning of me discovering that my eye-hand coordination is pretty shaky and me hating P.E.
So what?
I was thinking about this part of my life and how unexpected it would have been to everyone who knew me that I would become as active as I am now. Teaching yoga and fitness is a real source of joy in my life as are my own workouts. I didn’t see that potential in myself for a long time. It makes me wonder not only what am I missing in myself now, but what am I failing to see in other people.
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