Since completing the 100 sports in a year challenge, I have adopted a bit of a cocky swagger. No more do I struggle for small talk when meeting new people, as I have a suitcase full of sporting anecdotes to wheel out, at whim. Oh yes, I am rinsing this as much as possible for social superiority. I take my friends eye rolling as a secret gesture to continue with yet more humorous musings from that time I went to Gaelic Football with a hangover, or when I went stand up paddling and there was a surfing dog next to me…..gnarf, gnarf. Yes, I have truly been puffed up with own achievement.
This puffiness has decreased over time, as three separate instances have knocked my confidence. The first was when I was chatting with a small child. Small children are definitely not my target audience for discussing my achievements, as based on my experience, they don’t give a sh*t. Only when you have a track record of laziness, garnered over a number of years into adulthood, can you appreciate the feat of getting off the sofa twice a week, as I have. Small children and non-lazy people are generally non-plussed by my challenge but non-lazy people tend to hide their indifference better. Anyway, one of the 7 year olds at school who I congratulated for being a Mini SofaDodger (who had tried 15 different sports) turned round and said “It’s only 15, not like a thousand!” Instant deflation….I left little Johnny and his unrealistic life expectations and vowed to follow his story for the rest of his life to see if he achieves anything similar!
Sums it up!
However bruising this encounter was, this was not enough to become a lasting wound. I then went along to a womens' networking meeting and we all introduced ourselves and what we did. I felt smug as I imparted my story, embellishing it on the way and forgetting to mention the frequent indignities I suffered. Everybody gasped a little and clapped. I sat back, basking in the adulation. A few introductions later and one of the ladies introduced herself to the group and after saying about her day job, said “Like Sam, I too did something a bit crazy…..I did 24 things in 24 hours”. She then went on to regale that she had done things like cut all her hair off, jumped out of a plane, sat in a bath full of beans, spent an hour homeless, plus 20 other equally amazing things and raised a shed load for charity to boot!
Her gasps were louder than mine. Even sitting in a pub in the middle of nowhere on Bodmin Moor, I have been trumped! I decided at that point to mix less with people….
I can’t even get the title of Biggest Sports Trier, this goes to Mike Bushell, the BBC sports presenter, who has tried 400 different sports! 400 come on really? I know that I hadn’t got through all the sports on my list; like stoolball, synchronised swimming, tchoukball, tug of war or jujitsu but I could only probably stretch to another 50 sports and fitness classes not 400!
This man is the Godfather!
All of these occurrences have dealt a blow to the ego but only glancing. I am sure I will find some more people, which fit into my age and lifestyle bracket to impress with my stories. I envisage being an old lady in my rocking chair around the fire with my grandchildren sitting quietly around me, lapping up my tales of parkour and American Football, with not an eye roll in sight!
My name is Sam. I am a 35 year old, unfit, gym-phobic, mother of 3, who enjoys indulging in a glass of wine or two. I started the website sofadodger.co.uk this year, which is ironic as I am more a sofadweller than a sofadodger. So I have taken on the challenge of trying 100 different sports and fitness classes in a year. I shall be blogging about, what will be, one of the most interesting and challenging years of my life!