Backstory: My sister has played for several years on her church softball team. Because there wasn't really enough interest to put together a co-ed team, she just played with the men's team. The kids and I would often bike over to the field and watch—it looked kind of fun. Then in the middle of last season, the league decided they wouldn't allow women on the men's teams, and she was booted out. Tragic! Unfair! So her teammates decided to convert to a co-ed team for the next season. She asked me if I'd like to play to help make sure there would be enough women, and even though I go to a different church (which might even have its own co-ed softball team, actually), I said I would.
Fast-forward to today: Dex (He Who Knows How to Text) just found a message on the phone saying there would be "another" practice tomorrow and, by the way, our first game is Monday. Ohhhhh, no. I am so busy that I've been out of this chair basically only for yoga and to visit my hospitalized grandmother. Not to mention I haven't played softball in nearly 30 years (I am 42, for reference) and fully expect to throw like a girl and be afraid of the ball.
Oh, well: Getting out of my chair is good for me, and I'll just keep repeating my new mantra: "This is not about your softball ability. It's about having fun, supporting your sister, and lacking a penis."