One year ago, I stupidly decided to take up golf. I mean, I really hate like it. Because, you know, hitting balls into the water, sand traps, trees and everything except the hole is really so freaking bad for my mental health a nice way to get away from the stresses of life.
Always intrigued by the game (and admiring of those who play it), I resisted trying the sport for decades because I knew I would suck it would take a lot of time and a fair amount of cash, as well as requiring high levels of patience to fend off the frustration.
But my adult sons have been getting into it over the last few years, so I figured, what better way to spend some time with them than by sharing in the sheer madness majesty of swinging a dozen different kinds of clubs with super-specific precision to try to get a tiny ball into a tiny hole 300 or 400 yards away?
Over the last year, I’ve taken a few lessons, learned a lot and become mildly better at missing houses. And I tell you, there’s no feeling like connecting on a Fireball shot that goes long and straight.
Recently, I wrote about the experience for a national medical publication, looking into the research about how hobbies (especially new ones) can have many health benefits. It’s called the spillover effect, which essentially means that one healthy behavior can domino into more healthy behaviors. While it’s hard to know for sure what’s at play, I have noticed that since I started losing dozens of golf balls playing golf, I walk more (even when not on the course), eat a little better, drink a little less and have some incentive to get stronger and more powerful to avoid looking like I’m putt-putting from the tee add some more juice to my drives.
I’ve learned to manage my frustration and embrace the joy of learning, and it’s one of the few times that I find myself not constantly checking my phone for messages I need to tend to. I had a goal of trying to break 100 in 2024, and I’ve got no chance still got a long way to go.
But I have learned some valuable lessons from the game.
You can have plenty of bad shots, plenty of bad rounds and plenty of misses when you’re trying to not look like a complete jackass get better. But does it even matter if you’re waterfalling sweat for four hours outside, hanging with friends or family?
I may never break 100, but that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop f-bombing every time I worm-ball it down the fairway trying.
About Ted Spiker
Ted Spiker (@ProfSpiker) is the chair of the University of Florida Department of Journalism, as well as a health and fitness writer. He is the author of “Down Size,” a book about the science and soul of weight loss and dieting.
