LIV for Today

(Congratulations to Wyndham Clark and family. The following is simply satire and my sour grapes as I continue to wait for Rickie to win a major).

Baby is born. Mother and father look at baby, and smile.

“He looks like a Wyndham.”

Said no parents ever.

Who the hell is Wyndham Clark? No disrespect intended, but I wasn’t convinced he existed until Sunday, as he finally made an appearance, teeing off at the U.S. Open with Rickie. I thought perhaps he was like the pacing horse they let race with Seabiscuit, his proximity keeping Seabiscuit sharp and competitive.

I only know a few things about LIV, and even those facts might be wrong. I knew my favorite golfers all of a sudden disappeared, and I had to text my son to ask him why. Supposedly some major golfers Took the Money (30m, I heard?) and Ran to play for the Saudi Arabia golf league. Some, like Rory, didn’t, and stuck with the PGA. Now LIV and PGA have merged, the Big Boys are back in town, and people are mad because they shouldn’t just be allowed back in, just like that. Besides, we shouldn’t just forgive Saudi Arabia for 911 just because they’re financing Dustin Johnson’s yacht.

I say who cares? I missed DJ, and Bryson, and the others. It was no fun without them. With all due respect to Rory, and Jordan, and Justin, but we needed the bad boys back. No party is fun without the bad boys.

But even with the bad boys back, what I saw of the Open this weekend was mostly a Snooze Fest. #1 Scottie walking around looking goofy, Fleetwood making the lowest round in Open history, Bryson missing putts, and DJ looking like he just misses his wife’s ass, which if you don’t know is posted all over Instagram.

Hey, all the power to her. Everyone works with what they have, but how much attention does one human being need?

But I digress.

The antagonist of this piece would have to be the L.A. backdrop, looking dark and ominous, like Gotham City, even with the sun shining. The announcers kept calling the backdrop “beautiful,” as if we could ever forget what condition that city is actually in right now.

If you’re a Rickie Fowler fan like me, you’ve been waiting a long time for Ricky to win a major. I hope it’s today. At the time of this writing, baby Wyndham is -11, with both Rory and Rickie both at -10. I had to go to the driving range to work off my nervousness.

It’s Rickie’s time.

Get Pitted

I’ve wanted to write this post about dating athletes for a long time. No offense intended here, so have fun!

Surfers:

Surfers are absolutely the worst athletes to date. Nothing matters to them except “shredding the gnar.” If the waves are good, they practically become asexual, like slime molds, and sea stars. No matter how gorgeous you look in that bikini, if you are passing a cute surfer on the left and the waves are on the right, you will get nothing but an indifferent (albeit curious) glance. If they are very passionate about surfing, they are often gone. This is because if there are no waves where they are, they will travel to where there ARE waves. They are always covered in sand, and have a high risk for skin cancer later in life.

Benefits? They’re always tan and encourage you to do nothing except sit on the beach, if that’s your life goal. 

Wrestlers:

Depending on his weight class and intensity, and whether he wrestles year-round, you could be stuck with a very hangry man. You cannot bake or cook if he’s around. You can’t go out to eat, you cannot eat in front of him, and you can’t even entertain the notion of food until the end of wrestling season. They’re always trying to cut weight, and you might even catch them doing pushups while wrapped in a trash bag.

Benefits? They can contort their bodies in a variety of ways, which is super fun. They like to put you in gentle half-nelsons, which is cute and sexy. You can feel safe with a wrestler, because they can easily diffuse any physical confrontation. I’ve seen skilled wrestlers take down men thirty pounds heavier with just a snicker, a flick of a wrist and the sweep of a leg. Things ease up when he finally becomes a wrestling coach, and tortures others instead of himself.

Runners:

They are always running, and most likely want you to run with them. This is bad, unless you are also a runner, which means you’re annoying AF as well. These men run on vacation and do 5ks on holidays. They carry energy gels everywhere they go, and when they run marathons, they wear diapers. Runners are very thin, so keep that in mind for pictures.

Benefits? Great cardiovascular systems. I can’t think of anything else. Who wants to run everywhere? I simply don’t see the appeal.

Gym rats:

These guys are always jittery from pre-workout and eating probiotic meals. They are constantly sore from leg day, and always complaining about their traps and lats. They look at themselves more than they look at you, and get secret spray tans. They dream of peanut butter, have kettlebells in the living room, and protein powder in the kitchen. They use strange terminology like “keto” and “AMRAPS,” and tend to use the word “Dude” a lot, which is fine unless they use it to refer to you, which is not sexy.

Benefits? Muscles. And their sport only takes a couple of hours a day, and it’s not televised.

Football players:

They are super fun and always bulking up, so they will always want to take you to get food, which is yay! But they might do dumb things like crush beer cans on their heads or flip cars with the entire defensive end. In the fall you will want to go to pumpkin patches but he will want to watch football all day, and then play a game of touch football at halftime. They are very strong and tough, and no one will mess with you. If they get hit on the head a lot they might already be dumb, or dumb later in life. They will have heated arguments with their buddies over which version of “The Longest Yard” is better. They have a huge friend group, and you will have to compete with them.

Benefits? Your family will love him. Your dad and brothers because he plays a blood sport, and your mom because he is a big, squishy, sweet bear of a man. You can get lost in his hugs, and you always look small next to him in photos.

Golfers:

These athletes are gone anywhere from four to twelve hours at a time. If they work during the week, they will risk not only your ire but life and limb to golf with buddies on the weekends. You must let him, because you can’t win the fight. They will use any long straight object to swing like a club in the yard and living room, and will obsess over their handicaps. As a golfer, let me just say: don’t get involved with a golfer unless you have high self-esteem and your own hobbies. Something you can do all day while he golfs. Because the golf bug never leaves you. Meet him for drinks afterward, or learn to golf yourself.

Benefits: Usually wealthy, accomplished, smart, good-looking, or any combination of those. Will ask you to join him on golf vacations, and will encourage you to get facials and massages so he can golf. Take him up on it, silly.

Skiers:

Skiing is super expensive, so he must have money.

Benefits: See above.

Bikers:

Everyone hates bikers, because they take up the road. You must forgive this societal stigma if you like him. Also, his ass and legs are skinnier than yours. This is almost unforgiveable.

Benefits: When you break up with him, he has transportation home.

Basketball players:

I know nothing about basketball or basketball players except that they’re tall.

Benefits: You will have tall children.

Hikers/Rock Climbers/Mountain Climbers:

The altitude supposedly affects the left hemisphere of the brain. Eventually.

Benefits: Erections form in the right hemisphere of the brain.

Mouvement

I went to get down on the ground to put some laundry in the machine, when suddenly I paused.

I actually paused.

Please note that I don’t necessarily HAVE to get down on the ground to load the washer. It’s just easier, and I can balance the load better at eye level. But this is not the point.

The pause is the point.

You ever get a flash, just a quick flash, of your future? Like you catch yourself going around potholes to save your car tires, or you realize you’re driving too slowly? Or you hear yourself tell your kids “We have food at home”? Or when getting dressed for work, instead of grabbing your classy stilettos, you opt for a comfortable wedge?

That pause was like that. Because a fleeting thought passed through my membrane, something along the lines of:

One day I won’t be able to get down there, because I’d never be able to get back up.

Now, I’m fit. I know, God willing, that those days are far away, and nothing to concern myself with yet. But the distance between my body and the floor gave me reason to pause at how lucky I am to be able to get down there easily, and pop back up.

So let’s enjoy it while we can, fam. Let’s fling ourselves around at the gym, in the pool or the ocean. Let’s ride our bikes through puddles, and then lift up our legs. Let’s get down on the ground with the baby or the dog, feel the joy and release of moving our bodies, and feel grateful that we are able to.

It is truly a gift.

Cardi-UGH

Welcome to my annual bitch session about having to do cardio. Nice to see you.

I did something different for this post and used an actual picture of myself running up the bleacher stairs at the local high school. Somehow, someone I didn’t see sitting there snapped this picture and sent it to me with this caption:

“You look really tall in this picture! Doesn’t even look like you!”

Telling a short girl that she looks tall in a photo is code for “You look skinny.” Hey, I’m 55, I’ll take what I can get. No harm no foul.

Obviously, that isn’t me, I was teasing you. It’s Friday, let’s keep it light, shall we?

I’m not going to drone on and on about how much I hate forced cardio, don’t worry. You know I love hiking and golf and skiing and tennis and all of the fun activities that improve your cardiovascular system, but that I hate having to “walk the bridge,” or “take a run,” or “get on the treadmill,” or “do some jump roping and jumping jacks.”

I guess my disdain for cardio dates back to high school softball. We had to run when we did something stupid.

Yeah, I ran a lot.

So I avoid it, because I guess on some level, I equate it with punishment. But I can always feel it in my core (my physical core, not spiritual) when my wind is low. I walked through the city with my son a few weeks ago, and just that brisk walk, while not making me winded, still made my circulatory system protest somewhat.

Time to get my wind back. Ugh. I did a half hour Monday, 45 minutes on Tuesday, an hour Wednesday, 90 minutes Thursday, you get the idea. I’ve walked the beach, ran a trail, and climbed a bridge. Gotta keep it interesting.

This post has absolutely no point, other than to introduce the word “cardiugh” into the casual American lexicon. Feel free to use it. You don’t even have to reference me.

Co-Operate

Email:

Hi Mary, Bradley from your REI Co-Op! Looks like you’re doing some skiing this season, congratulations! But remember, staying in shape for winter activities is much easier when you have your cardiovascular conditioning! We’d like to invite you to join the local REI running club, and to sponsor our brand. So whattya say? Want to be a better runner this winter?

Response:

No.