Athletic Aspirations

11:33 pm, April 6, 1997

A very bright high school senior named Marti stayed with me two nights ago. She was here for the President’s Scholarship weekend. Since she would be with me and all, I decided to email her a few times over the course of the week preceding the scholarship weekend. Friday arrived and I met Marti. Pretty, slim, and very polite. Over ice cream sundaes at Junior’s she asked me what I had thought she would look like. The question surprised me, as I hadn’t really thought about it at all. Sure, I had pictured myself meeting her, but I hadn’t actually sat down and thought about specifically what she would look like.

She mentioned that she and her mother had discussed what they thought a “Sarah” would look and act like. She told me three of their conclusions — I would have dark brown hair, be athletic, and rather tall. Then she said that they were wrong on two accounts. The brown hair and the height. Marti saw me as athletic.

I suppose I do look like a tomboy in many ways. I wear tennis shoes instead of clogs, jeans instead of dark brown dress pants, and avoid dressing up at most costs. I can see how an outsider looking at me could come to the conclusion that I am athletic. But I don’t feel like an athlete. When Marti asked what sports I played, I could only reply that I used to play soccer, and that I watch a lot of sports on TV. I cannot think of any answer that would be more pathetic. I want to be able to put together a better answer to the question “are you athletic?” I don’t like being pathetic.

(I think a couple commenters were confused. Note the date at the top — I wrote this in 1997 while a sophomore at Georgia Tech, and found it while digging through my hard drive last night. I was definitely not athletic then. Ten years later, I know that I am athletic, and I like that. I don’t feel pathetic anymore.)