Realizing you're old

So while in Peru, I have an objective to try everything and seize all opportunities. Naturally trying out for the University's Division I basketball team fell into that category. Now, I realize it's been 10 years since I played organized basketball, and that I'm kinda getting up there in age to have hoop dreams of winning a national championship; never-the-less I had an objective, a rule of life to follow. So last Tuesday, I stepped out onto the court in my running shoes, shorts and a tank top, desperately hoping that I wouldn't break and ankle or make an ass of myself in some other gringa way. As far as physical fitness goes, I felt confident (maybe a little too much according to my hip flexors) in my abilities to keep up; after all I'm a marathon runner and personall trainer!

Practice began with a series of passing drills with weighted medicine balls. We had to dribble and pass, just the basics if you will. I was by far stronger than any of the girls there which was evident since no one could catch my passes. After that we spent the next hour and 20 minutes doing fast break drills. Let me explain this in a little more detail; we sprinted up and down the court for the next hour and 20 minutes making lay ups as we reached the opposite end while the coach yelled at us to move faster. Now it wasn't so much the sprinting that I minded, or the ludicracy of doing pointless "race to the other end of the court" drills that had nothing to do with the real game of basketball, rather it was the yelling I couldn't tolerate. He only yelled at me when I would run to the wrong side of the opposite end of the court (he changed the drill up a bit... ya know to simulate the game), but still it inferiated me! After an hour and a half of the three hour practice I told him I had to leave to study (which really was true). As I rode the hour bus ride back home, I tried to understand why his yelling pissed me off so much?! I mean I was in the Navy for 6 years, it's not like it's been that long since I was treated like a child. But that was it; I could not stand being talked to as if I were inferior to him. As if I were not his equal. After a conversation with Chris, it did occur to me that I probably also had an issue because he was an idiot and knew nothing about basketball. As Chris asked "if it were coach K, I'm sure you wouldn't have minded the yelling?" Which of course was true. Yet still, I felt disrespected. So that's when it dawned on me that I'm old. Too old to sprint up and down the court while some morron yells at me, and all for what? To waste the precious time I have here, when there are far more important things I should be doing?
At last, once again I have retired from organized basketball. It was a fun and exciting thought that I could play Division I ball at the age of 26, but as I discovered I'm just a little too old for these games.
...I can say, I made the team though; and only after an hour and a half of sprinting - guess my body's not too old!