they say it’s like riding a bike…
… once you learn how, you never forget.
i wouldn't know; i don't know how to ride a bicycle. sounds ridiculous, but true story nonetheless.
***
in the few times that i've played basketball since arriving in canada, i've struggled with finding my shooting form. now that statement might lead you to believe that i consider myself to be a "shooter", but the truth is that driving to the rim amongst a sea of tall caucasians is simply rejection waiting to happen. i therefore prefer to retain whatever basketball dignity i have left by shooting from a distance and hoping that my defender doesn't have enough of a vertical to swat my pathetic attempt away. moving on...
the sense of not remembering the right mechanics isn't new to me - even when i played regularly back in the philippines, it was almost as if i had to rediscover my form every time i launched a basketball from my hands (which is why i tried to arrive earlier than other people) - but the longer layoffs in between my trips to the court made the unfamiliarity all the more pronounced. at some point i eventually get into a rhythm and hit a few shots in a row, finally settling on a "correct form" to use that basketball purists would undoubtedly rank higher than marty conlon and yet much lower than ray allen. such relief is fleeting however, as i know i'm doomed to forget that form the next time i play.
my attendance in the weight room is much more regular, which fortunately makes getting reacquainted with how much weight to lift not as drawn-out a process. but the adjustment period is still there; whenever i'm away from the gym for too long (in my book, that means at least three days) i start to struggle to lift weights that i had already adapted to a few days prior. and so every so often i must endure the walk of shame in the weight room: the moment when you try a rep or two, get up huffing, puffing and a completely different shade of red, and then change the plates you've put on the bar to something lighter. ten pounds might not sound like much to the casual observer but to the consummate gym rat (for some reason "meathead" sounds so much more demeaning), ten pounds can be the difference between life or death, between being a man and being a wuss.
but more than these physical activities, the thing that worries me the most is not writing anything for too long.
***
i still don't consider myself to be a writer - more like an aspiring wordsmith, really - and it's always humbling for me to hear that other people think that i have a gift for it. it's praise that i don't take lightly, and i'm often too critical with myself when i reread the things that i do write. but if you put a gun to my head and asked me to hang my hat on something, i'd probably say writing. after all, there's too much of a possibility of my screwing up in the areas of mixed martial arts, professional wrestling, comic books or movie titles.
now don't get me wrong, i still have plenty of opportunities to write - whether it involves emails, process documents as part of my summer internship, group papers or final essays for school. but i look at those things as tests of literacy, not as indicators of an ability to write. they're written mostly to ensure that i still have some semblance of grammar and haven't turned out like a character in an old stephen king story: he created miracle water that cured any form of illness but eventually removed the ability to think (and write) coherently, leaving his last few journal entries as a mishmash of letters strewn together.
i'm talking about writing for writing's sake, and thajksnbuigb rqewugbk ajknbejk koe.
... just kidding.
***
i've got some posts in my head that i can't wait to put out, where i talk about finding peace in my weekends spent with my relatives, my amalgamated cultural background that fits perfectly here in toronto, my slowly increasing appreciation for my mba program (not so much the program per se, but just being able to avoid looking for work for another year), and my assessment of the person i am now that i've spent one year in canada.
i don't have all of the right words for each post yet - it's all just a jumble of catchy titles and personal reflections in my head at the moment - and the truth is i have no idea when i'll actually be able to post these entries.
but i know that i will, eventually.
once i finally do, i hope that the words will flow out of me naturally, the same way they have for so long, the same way they did here.