[this was last summer when we played with the youth group]
My sister and I weren't very good. We started with only knowing the basics. Nobody really wanted us on their team; they didn't complain, but we didn't add much to the game. It's been almost a year since we started play, throwing a frisbee around and running and catching. We've gotten better. Slowly our little group has expanded. There are normally about sixteen of us who play now. Normally my sister and I are the only girls. They boys look out for us, always making sure that we're okay if we fall or if they fun into us. They've slowly learned that my sister and I can play the game. We're not just there to hang out or look cute on the sidelines. We play.And we've adopted the boys. We fondly call them 'our boys' and bake them cupcakes on their birthdays. We mother them, much to their annoyance at times. We make sure that they have water and sunblock and have granola bars at the midway point of our games. They know we do it because they're our friends and we love them. I suspect they also tolerate it because they know the cupcakes will stop if they don't. ;)
I love the feeling of being sweaty, weird as that is, it's true. I like the feeling of pushing my body to it's limits over and over again. When you play a game with very competitive guys, that's how it is constantly. You're always running, sweat dripping down your face and legs and your arms sticky with it. There's something about it that makes you feel alive, and that's what I love. That feeling when your body's humming with energy and adrenaline and your senses are heightened. But the thing I love most is when you yell out, "Ultimate!" and your arm flings forward, releasing the frisbee and the game begins again.
