I enjoy being a spectator and the excitement of a game. The enjoyment is sometimes tainted, though, by the decent amount of jealousy that I feel while watching, wishing I was on the floor instead of in the stands. I think anyone who has ever been sidelined by injury or other circumstances can attest to the fact that watching a game is way more torturous than any conditioning drill.

I loved making memories with my teammates as we carpooled to tournaments or messed around before practice. I loved living in the big moments where the pressure high but the power you possess to change the game is equivalent to that of a superhero’s. I enjoyed pushing myself as hard as I thought I could, and then a little bit further. I enjoyed the thrill of winning and the lessons learned from losing. I loved almost every moment of my time running around playing every sport on the earth.

I say almost because I'd be lying if I said I never dreaded a practice after a loss or second guessed my love for whatever sport I was playing at the time. I didn't love running suicides or having double days or waking up at the crack of dawn to drive to a field in the middle of nowhere. However, I've come to realize that even though I might not actually play anymore, the lessons I've gotten from every aspect of being an athlete are still paramount in my everyday life.

Sports teach you so much. You learn more than just how to control a ball with a stick, or your foot, or a bat. You learn how to compete, how to preserver, how to remain steadfast in your endeavors when faced with adversity. You learn how to think critically and tactically. You learn how to lead and, even more importantly, how to listen.

These are not lessons lost in everyday life. You have to apply a new skill set to compete in the classroom or in the office. You have to be able to lead and listen to classmates or professors or colleagues. You have to be able to celebrate the highs and learn from the lows in your life. You have be willing and able to compete in every aspect of your life, and be confident in your ability to survive, advance, and strive.

Now a year into college, not playing an organized sport, I know why so many professional athletes quickly return from retirement to compete again. A sport doesn't just become a time consuming part of your life, playing a sport and being an athlete becomes a part of your identity. You eat, sleep, and breathe for the blood, sweat, and tears that it takes to compete. When you've spent years of your life devoted to a sport it is hard to walk away.

But walking away doesn’t need to be permanent. There are myriad ways to keep the athletic side of yourself busy. I love to be competitive (within reason), so I make different things in my life a competition. Racing up stairs or finishing my homework in record time keeps me in touch with my inner competitor. Staying physically active isn’t a given anymore so I have learned to provide myself with opportunities and incentives to keep in good physical shape. Sign up for a half marathon, join a pick up league, or schedule gym time, then treat yourself to a nice new pair of running shoes or a nice dinner. There are ways to remain an athlete even after you’ve “walked away” from organized competition.

For lack of a better analogy, leaving a sport is like leaving a piece of yourself behind. You go through the phases of grieving: denial, bargaining,

depression, and finally come to accept the fact that you will no longer put on your jersey, will no longer lace up your shoes, will no longer play for the name on the front and the number on the back. It's not easy (if it was easy, everyone would do it), and it takes time (sometimes even a year), but I want to assure everyone going through the same struggle, this is not the finish line.