Excuses, excuses...

I am posting today from beautiful Naples, Florida where I am visiting family, getting a head start on my Utah golf game, and soaking up the sun on the famous beaches of Collier County. Because my husband traveled extensively for his company, for years I accompanied him around the globe, staying at fabulous resorts with gorgeous golf courses, but never setting foot on one of them because I refused to golf. “Not enough exercise”, “it takes too much time”, and “too expensive (I’d rather spend the money on shoes)” were just a few of my many excuses when all the while the biggest reason was that I didn’t have a clue how to play golf! I would work out in the hotel gym, then go sit out at the pool feeling smug that golf was for wimps. Although I am the off spring of two devoted golfers and friends with scores of fanatical golf addicts, I never felt the urge to take up the sport until I went to Scotland. The trip, the result of a present given to my father from our family on his 70th birthday, inspired both my husband and myself to “think” about becoming golfers. Dad didn’t want to play Gleneagles, Turnberry, and St. Andrews with strangers so he recruited the guys in the family to join him and us girls made up their gallery. The history, traditions, and ceremony of the game piqued my interest while the competition, challenge, and difficulty of the sport attracted my husband to it. Little did I know that joining a golf club, multiple lessons, a golf bag full of the latest equipment, and a closet full of golf clothes would do little to improve my game in five years. Yes, I’ve gotten better from those first few years where I spent more time in the bushes hunting down my ball than on the fairway up and down. But am I a good golfer? No, not in my mind. And just when I think I am getting the hang of the game, a day comes a long that humbles me and puts me in my place.

Is all this time invested and money spent on golf worth it? Today my 80 year old mother and several of her girlfriends showed me (as they made one par after another beating me by multiple strokes) why my efforts are not in vain. After retiring and moving to Florida at nearly seventy, my Mom learned to play primarily from my Dad. He was a competitor who loved the game, often winning the “gruesome twosome” with my Mom at their home course, the Glades. My Mom continues to play multiple times per week in her ladies league, surrounded by a large, loving golfing community who have been her support system and sometimes life-line in the year since my father passed away. Girlfriends to go to breakfast with after a game, to meet for a glass of wine, to check on you when it rains so hard the power goes out or to just sit and gossip with are all perks of the game. Watching the Master’s tournament today reminded me that for most of us who don’t make our living from golf, our winnings come in the form of camaraderie, lifelong friendships, and someone to commiserate with and/or celebrate with depending on your golf day.
I will miss all my golfing girlfriends this month but I am sure I will come back home with plenty of good stories for us to laugh over!

xxo, P