For those of you who may not have had the privilege of playing this game, I'll explain the rules. Two teams line up facing each other some distance apart. One team calls someone from the other team to "come right over" (see the above title for exact wording). The team joins hands and tries to prevent that person from breaking through their line as the person comes across the divide running full force.
I had some trepidation about this whole venture. If you have been reading my past blogs you know that I have been struggling to remember how to play. And I have been wanting to remedy that deficit in my life. In the past, I was never one to excel in brutal force type games. I was much more the timid, shyer short of kid. And though I'm not shy anymore, I never, ever acquired the physicality or desire for competitive sports. I remember playing Red Rover and other such games way back in the day because, that's just what we did. But as I recall, I never felt terribly competent or comfortable. Yet, there is something to be said about feeling included in the collective group activity, what ever it maybe. And I think there is something about the physical component as well. Play in itself seems to indicate some kind of movement of the body. I'm just realizing as I write this, that the loss of and discomfort of play go hand in hand with the sheer discomfort of simply being in my body. An "Ah Ha" moment just then. So what to do about it? Play, and be in the discomfort until it gradually ebbs away. Or at least that's been my successful technique in healing other ouches in my life.
So there I stood last night, hand in hand with a line of people - shall I mention, most of which were much younger and more nimble? We were laughing and enjoying the comradery and I was breathing and trying not to be afraid. And who should they call first? (again, refer to the title) Holy Cow, how do I get myself into these situations? But I am determined to do this thing and to it's fullest, so off I trot. I am strategically accessing the weakest link in the chain as I build up speed. A little piece of my brain is reserved for a constant prayer of, "Ok, please don't let me trip right now". I could see their determined faces, but I wanted this! I didn't just want to play, I wanted to play well. I hit the line and after a bit of resistance, I broke through! Why does that feel so fucking good? Maybe there's a bit of brute strength and competition in me after all.
