I miss sweat. Not ladylike perspiration, the sweat that comes from a fabulous long run that, in warm weather, dries on my skin like a salty rime, or that, in bitter cold, forms little crystals of ice on my cap or jacket. The sweat that flushes out toxins -- some of which I replace after the run with a delicious and nutritious Corona Light. Sweat that ran into my eyes and ears, stinging one and tickling the other.
It's basketball season, my favorite spectator sport. No, I did not play (unless forced to in gym), in fact, I regarded basketball with disdain. (Those who can, play; those who were usually picked last and cannot, disdain.) Players running back and forth, trading points--what was THAT all about? Worse yet, they were sweaty. Disgusting! But then I started running and realized there was value and purpose in sweat, I daresay even a beauty.
Along with my new appreciation of sweat came the first hints of an interest in basketball, particularly Maryland Terrapins basketball. I admit, I was influenced by some special friends who are alums, it helped that the team was enjoying a good season. Little by little, my understanding of the game grew and I was hooked. The once despised sweat was now a testament to the athleticism and energy of the players.
College hoops dunked me (heh heh) into a Washington Wizards' basket when two Terps landed on the Wizards' court. I'm now a lost cause, preferring college ball to the pros, but loving it all.
Where was I going with all this? Oh, right. Sweat. During the Wizards' game against Dallas last night, one of the Mavs shook his head in a way that reminded me of how I shook my head when sweat ran into my ear...tickling it.
*Who knows the origin of the catchy title?
13 hours ago