Can an Older Female Athlete Learn New Tricks? (Cornhole #2)
Spoiler: Don't Be Like Mariah
Happy new year to all!
After two weeks off, I’m eager to reconnect with you.
Seems a lot has happened, including some changes to this weekly column — such as the new logo, above — since I announced in Part One that I signed up to compete in cornhole (women’s division, ages 65-69) at the National Senior Games this summer in Iowa.
So far, I’ve received Willie’s and my shipment of eight special cornhole bags “for serious competitors, aspiring pros, and high-stakes cornhole tournaments”; watched eight instructional videos and two tournament videos; posted those to my Cornhole YouTube playlist; began cornhole-related weightlifting; practiced twice on my condo rooftop in frigid weather; joined a local league that begins next month; noticed that I’m carrying myself more like I used when my name was announced before basketball games; and fretted.
These stories – I expect a periodic series leading up to the Games in August – are not just about cornhole, though cornhole probably fascinates you. (How could it not?) They will offer what Aesop might have called morals of my stories, such as:
Women can grow older and stronger at the same time;
There’s a competitive sweet spot between playing for fun and playing your heart out; plus, if I ever figure this one out:
There’s a way to love, honor and celebrate your actual body rather than the body you remember, imagine, or covet.
But uh-oh. Challenges are arising already.
Everything I’ve been assuming would help me – I’m a natural athlete with excellent hand-eye coordination and oodles of athletic experience – might not help me. I might be doomed.
The Boards Are Heavy
One set of two wooden cornhole boards weighs 51 pounds. That’s more than the enormous bags of dog food that used to seem heavy even when I was much younger (and had dogs). Because our downstairs condo neighbors might not enjoy hearing repetitive bean-bag whumps, I need to haul the boards up to the roof. I also must carry eight bean bags (another eight pounds) for myself and any friend or stranger I can persuade to play. With this math in mind, I purchased unofficial, lightweight, metal boards (30 pounds), only to discover that they are too bouncy. The bags don’t stop as in the instructional videos; they ricochet off in all directions. Worse, the boards themselves scamper away, as if in self-protection, when hit at the wrong angle. (Which has happened “a few” times.) I might have to invest in wooden boards after all.
Cornhole Boards Are Placed Far Apart
During real tournaments (like the upcoming one in Iowa, not the backyard, tailgate type), the two boards must be placed 27 feet from each other (leading edge). How far is 27 feet? Five feet farther than the three-point line in basketball.
I can throw a bean bag that far, I confirmed while practicing with my friend Colleen on the roof (windchill: 20 degrees) but in my opinion, the distance should be set closer for older women, the way competitors at the National Senior Games (NSG) play half-court basketball. Women of all ages already play with smaller basketballs and lower volleyball nets than men do, for good reasons. NSG rules only move the boards marginally closer in both female and male categories when you reach age 70 (25 feet). At 80 and in the non-ambulatory (wheelchair) category, you throw it only 23 feet.
Am I making excuses already? No, just freaking out a wee bit. I was expecting more like the free-throw-line distance: 15 feet. Perhaps I should have read the rules.
At least we 65-69-year-old women will all be in the same boat — unless men try to play “as women,” which National Senior Games rules1 allow, unfortunately — a topic I frequently address. If that happens, you’ll be the first to know.
Early Indication I Might Not Ace This Thing
I taught Colleen, 58, everything I learned from videos, including how to flick your wrist at the end of the throw so the bag spins flat like a frisbee, lands on the board, skims toward the hole, then drops in. (If you’ve aimed right. A big if).
She listened politely then beat me 21-1, even though her bags did not spin like beautiful frisbees, as mine did. We had a blast, which is whole point, but everything I’ve been assuming would help me succeed – I’m a natural athlete with excellent hand-eye coordination and oodles of athletic experience – might not help me. I might be doomed.
I Have Arthritis, Too
I’ve explained how I ended up in this national cornhole tournament: joint pain led me to drop out of every competitive sport over the years (basketball, volleyball, lacrosse, field hockey, tennis, golf, water polo, rowing, and swimming). Cornhole seemed like one sport I could play.
Somehow I did not expect my arthritic hands to be problematic — until I hauled my “light” boards to the roof and threw a bunch of bags 27 feet. My right (throwing) hand and wrist started shouting, angry and indignant.
Lyn Talks Me Down from the Ledge
I called my physical therapist, Lyn.
“Oh no, we can’t have this,” she says authoritatively. “You can’t be injured before you’ve even started.”
Everyone should have a Lyn. Lyn rescued me two years ago when my knee-replacement recovery ride careened into a ditch. We became friends.
“How long did you practice cornhole each time?” she asks.
“Um, an hour and forty minutes,” I admit. Cornhole is fun. It’s hard to stop, even though I’ve known since about age 30 that any new sport plunged into unthinkingly, the way I tend to plunge into new things, strains the body.
Lyn asks how I’m throwing, and I tell her what I’ve learned from videos. “Supinating” the hand should not involve the wrist, she explains, but rather the elbow and “scapular stabilizers, specifically the serratus.” Who knew? Lyn. She knows everything. Lyn diagnosed my hypermobility and scoliosis before anyone else noticed.
Lyn talks me off the ledge. (Of the board. Twelve inches off the ground.) She also agrees to play doubles with me in the local tournament.
Moral of the Story: Don’t Be Like Mariah
She who does new things like Mariah (wholeheartedly but improperly, without the patience and wisdom to proceed slowly and carefully), should seriously consider approaching her own new endeavors some other way.
Other Updates to Stronger Women
1) New #Aging Up & #Save Women’s Sports Sections
These stories are beginning to develop some patterns, so I reorganized the Stronger Women home page to make it easier for you to find the two main topics (so far) and send friends there. See the ribbon for all stories about 1) #Aging Up and 2) #Save Women’s Sports.
2) In the Banner Version of the Logo, Our Leaping, Flying, Joyful Athlete Scores a Teammate
Thoughts? I love hearing from you.
Thanks to Bertha, Bruce, Colleen, , , Helen, Jane, Judy W., , Linda, Lyn, Mary, Nancy, Peter, Spot, Wendy, Willie, and everyone on this journey with me.
Other Stronger Women stories you might enjoy:
In Which This Athlete Signs Up for the National Senior Games in Guess What Sport? Athletes need to compete.
Recovery: A Love Story: Swimming Through Rough Waters with a Lifelong Friend
A lifeguard saw us as two old, frail women. We knew better.
Dear Reader: On Strength and Vulnerability: When combined, these qualities can become a north star guiding us through life.
The National Senior Games policy is rated UNFAIR by the Women’s Sports Policy Working Group.
Kudos to you MBN! Not just “learning” the game but going to the Senior Championships. You may have changed the sport, but not the mindset. 💪
Sounds like a coach maybe in order?
I have a set of boards (wooden) I’d be happy to give to you.