I used to play basketball all the time. During years surrounding high-school and college, you could often find me either playing or ready to play at a moment’s notice.
As time went on, my life habits changed. I chose to deprioritize time in the gym in favor of other activities. Fast forward to today and it’s been well over a decade since I stepped onto the court.
This week, I returned to that familiar wooden floor for some solo practice. It felt fantastic. Sounds, smells, and sensations from the leather sphere in my hands brought a huge smile to my face.
To be clear…it also felt mechanical and awkward.
I started slow, staying near the basket, focusing equally on both sides of my body. Any time my form started to falter, I would move back in until it felt correct, gradually expanding my shot circle throughout the session.
Thud, thud, thud.
Line up a shot.
Ignore onlookers.
Focus on form.
Coil and release.
Follow through.
Do it again.
My body knew what to do, my mind could see the possibilities. I was rusty. But I love it. Now it was time to put in the work.
It was funny to attempt “familiar” shots – areas of the floor that used to be my favorites – because everything felt different now. I managed to laugh more than winced as shots went astray, reminding myself aloud to not be rushed or cocky.
The goal was not to hit shots. The goal was practice. Becoming reacquainted with the joy of trying, failing, and seeing progress.
Spending time on the basketball court was not unlike writing this article. The mechanics feel a bit dry and brittle as I get back into the habit of writing more regularly.
Tap, tap, tap.
Line up the outline.
Ignore onlookers.
Focus on story.
Move and wait.
Think ahead.
Do it again.
My fingers know what to do, my mind can see the full page. I feel rusty. But I love it. Now is the time to put in the work.
When spending time in the mode of practice, everything feels possible. The goal is not analytics, praise, or future endeavors.
Victory is ensuring today’s growth, not hitting tomorrow’s goal.
Every time a shot is missed, every time a sentence needs to be rephrased, grit and patience are interwoven. We can choose to construct a garment of that material and wear it each day, but it does decay with time. It requires upkeep. It fits differently as we change with age. It will look different in a week than the rosy glow we see right now.
And that’s all just fine. This is practice.