Bitten By The Disc Golf Bug

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Bitten By The Disc Golf Bug

It’s going on about 4 weeks now since I’ve been bitten by ‘the bug,’ if you know what I mean. Prior to this I’d thrown a disc here and there. Mostly I love to hike and it happens that most disc golf courses are in the woods. But disc golf is hard, and summer is hot, and I’d rather be swimming or photographing nature. Those days came easy.

I can recall the events clear as day. I was browsing through my news feed, minding my own business, when it came across. A video of a pro disc golfer, demonstrating his backhand form. I realize there are video tutorials for cooking, building things, even twerking. It just never occurred to me to search for disc golf instruction online. It was brilliant. Something about the way he reached back and catapulted the disc forward on a level horizontal plane resonated with my own attempts to do something like it, and it all came crashing together in one ‘aha’ moment. “I get it!”

It turns out I didn’t get it. Or maybe my mind got it but my body didn’t. “What if I try again,” I wondered. I think it went 30 feet further. Didn’t it? I’m not sure. My husband laughed hysterically. Yes, in fact I did think I was going to watch a video and just walk out and throw a disc 300 feet. What!? Maybe tomorrow I’ll do just that. Tomorrow will be different.

I was up before the sun. In a strange twisted turn of events my husband found himself being woken from a dead sleep and dragged to the course, questionably against his will, by the monster he helped create. But tomorrow was in fact, not different. Nor was the next, or the next, but eventually one day was a little different. As I tried everything short of surgically altering the bone structure of my arm and wrist to throw with less hyzer, it occurred to me to change my grip and ‘whoosh’! “Did I just do that?” I did it again, and again. I must be throwing at least 200 feet now!

It hasn’t happened since. Can one literally just ‘forget’ how to throw a disc overnight? Now that I think about it, would I really be happy throwing 200 feet anyway? What about 300? 400? I feel unsettled. Will I ever again be content, or have I stumbled into a permanent state of torment? When does this end?

Maybe tomorrow…

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