Another horrible day. I pulled myself together by the afternoon, sat in my car, and drove up the hill for our soccer match with the boys. When I arrived there, an hour before the start, every single muscle in my body was in a cramp like concrete. I was trembling with fear. I was all alone on the field. I started walking up and down the pitch, thinking about my fears and if I could handle what would wait for me here.
Then all of a sudden I felt like I was brave for being here despite my condition and my anxiety. I am a real fighter. I am defying everything. I felt pride for being there. I had a clear conscience because I had done everything I could in the last months. I can walk and stand before God with a straight spine no matter what happens. Yes, I feel terrible. Yes, my anxiety is killing me. Yes, I am afraid of everything. But what more can I do than asking for help and showing up here despite everything?
I started warming up and experienced the forgotten miracle again. Minute by minute, my muscles started easing, like frozen toes when getting back to to the warmth of home after long hours in the snow. My breathing became steadier, less heavy and shallow. As my body was changing and calming, it dragged my thoughts and feelings along. After about forty minutes of running, stretching, and playing with the ball, I could welcome my arriving teammates with genuine joy and happiness. We played a wonderful match together.
I always underestimate the power and joy sport can bring to our body and mind.