My school requires its students to play a sport each season. I never questioned the policy until sophomore year. I play field hockey for a club team, and so my fall sports choice was easy. I also enjoy running so I chose track and field for the spring. But what was I going to play in the winter? My options were swimming, basketball, climbing, and squash. After 2 years as a member of the middle school C team, I wasn’t thrilled about continuing my basketball career. I was about as excited for basketball as I was for a Sunday afternoon weeding with my dad. The next choice, swimming, did not seem appealing either. Maybe it was the fact that I never learned to dive or do flips off the diving board, but I was not a fan of the pool. Climbing was also out because I hate heights. My lack of enthusiasm and skill for other sports left me to play squash.

What is squash? My thought exactly as I boarded the bus on my first day of tryouts. Here is what I knew. Squash was somewhere between tennis and racquetball. There were 4 walls, and you could hit the ball off any of them. I’m not particularly gifted at racket sports, but I wasn’t too worried. In my mind, squash was for retirees. What sixteen year old plays squash?

To my surprise, many of the girls did. They struck the ball with power, aimed with precision, and moved with purpose. I, on the other hand, could barely return a shot. It is hard to win a point if you never hit the ball. I spent the whole first week losing. However, also to my surprise, I loved it.

Squash became my favorite part of the day. I looked forward to the moment when I could dawn my dorky goggles and grandpaesque rubber soled shoes. I felt free and unbothered on the court. When I played, it was just me and my opponent in a tiny box. Unlike the stress of homework, family responsibilities, and relationships, squash was a contained issue. There was a concrete goal and an obvious solution. The sport was about strategy. Hit the ball low and hard off the front wall. If your opponent is in the front right corner, aim high to land the ball in the back left corner. After your shot, move to the center of the court and take control.

The first month was dedicated to serving. A serve has 2 requirements: the ball must hit the front wall above the red line and land in the red square on your opponent’s side of the court. Despite swinging harder and using my legs more, I never managed to land the ball in the red square. Slowly, my serve improved. I went from 0% accuracy to 40% to 70%. For playing 2 hours a day 5 days a week, I was still bad.

Normally, I must be good at something to enjoy it. If I’m struggling, I develop a meticulous schedule and practice regime. Whether it is studying for a math test or earning money for Morgan Wallen tickets, I have found that strict adherence to a plan leads to success. I find satisfaction in the things I do because of improvement.

However, with squash, my improvement was slow. Glancing at a trendline of my progress, one would have to squint to see the slight upward trajectory. But I wasn’t playing to be good, I was playing because I had to. This truth unburdened me from the pressure to perform. I found happiness in doing victory dances after earning a point. In laughing when I saw the reflection of my goggles and high ponytail in the glass. In the collective groan of my teammates if our coach assigned us court sprints. I was allowed to enjoy squash simply because I found it fun.