The Day I Forgot How to Drive

It's February and this weekend was almost in the 70s. Of course we had to play golf. The local courses were booked solid from 8am to 2pm so we tried a course farther afield. We'd played there before many times, but not in the past year or so. It was slow, and the warm weather made me feel sleepy. I felt out of sorts from the first tee. My drive at Hole 1 was okay, but after that I seemed to forget how to swing any of my woods. Add to that the topsy-turvy strangeness of playing an unfamiliar course, and it was a recipe for a frustrating round of dead-left hooks and worm-burners.

Whenever that happens, I focus on other things, like working on my art photography for that coffee-table book I dream of publishing. This photo is called, "Long Shadow Girl with Putter."

At least my irons were working, and I made some pretty decent approach shots.

This one was a shot for birdie... but I missed.

This was a shot for double-bogey... and I made it.

On the 18th hole, my driver started swinging straight again. But I had already stopped keeping score. Thank goodness we're still in the off-season for handicaps. And I can just enjoy chipping it close like this, without it having to mean anything:

How did I fix my driver swing? Well, hubby gently reminded me to take the club back on a straight path, not swing back around my body like a tether ball. It's something I should have remembered from my "list," which I carry around in my purse and refer to whenever I temporarily lose my swing.

My list changes from time to time, but currently, it is comprised of just 6 things:

1) straight back, straight through

2) lead swing with left hip

3) keep eye on ball

4) right hand active

5) use obliques

6) for driver, tilt up head, with slightly open club face 

My list also has 3 additional reminders to do the wrist-hinge exercise before a round (where I take my stance, grip the club and just hing my wrists without taking my arms back), use a little forward press of the grip when hitting irons, and put my weight on the front foot when I am hitting wedges.

So that's my current list. Now all I need to do is remember to look at it.

One Fine Day

It's winter, so I've been keeping an eye on the weather forecast, looking out for a mild day. Last Wednesday was such a day. I hadn't played a full round since late October and I hadn't swung a club since New Year's Day. I was nervous about heading straight out to the course, so in the morning I went to the range and hit a small bucket. I was happy to find that I had no leg pain. It looked like all my strength training and stretching were paying off.

When my tee time came around, I was not surprised to see the course buzzing with activity. I was paired with a beer-drinking solo and a pair of cigar-smoking golf buddies. Luckily, they were all walkers and nice guys. They were avid golfers, too, and the talk focused on bucket list courses played and soon to play. They were impressed I'd played Streamsong and Torrey Pines. They said I absolutely have to make it up to Bethpage.

Most of all, we reveled in the fine weather.
"Isn't this just the most perfect day?" said one of the cigar-smoking duo.
"I know," I said. "I feel like I'm in a dream."

I didn't mention what was really on my mind, that my mom passed away on the day after new year's. And I haven't even begun to process my emotions. In times of stress, golf has been my therapy. It is a chance for me to unwrinkle my brain.

So I focused, with relief, on the game. I played a bright pink ball that day, and the guys marveled at how dependably I seemed to be making all my putts in the 10-to-15 foot range.

"Putting is one of things about golf that seems to get better with age," I told them. "Have you ever played golf with 80-year-olds? They can't drive it as far but they sure can putt."

I told them about an 85-year-old guy I once played with. His name was Eugene. I could tell he was just grateful to be alive and active enough to play golf. He made a birdie on the 18th hole and got so excited he literally jumped up in the air. "I can't wait to get home and call my son to tell him I made a birdie!" he said, as happy as a child.

The men smiled, glad to hear that golf really can be played well into one's golden years.

"I live for golf," said one of the cigar-smokers. He was older, retired, and I could tell something about my Eugene story resonated with him. He was a guy who'd obviously had many accomplishments that, to the world at large, would seem far more important than chasing a tiny ball into a hole. And yet today, that was all that mattered.

We were all quiet for awhile, enjoying the game and the moment while it lasted. Like life, golf is a game that periodically makes you aware of its profound absurdity, as well as the supreme gift it is to play it, all the while knowing it will inevitably come to an end, both joys and sorrows.

Golf Resolutions for 2017

Happy New Year (a few days late)! This will be brief since I only had one resolution last year:

#1: Get fit for golf.  How did I do? Well, my forearm tendinitis is gone, and my gluteal and leg pains have improved but not disappeared. However, I did manage to log 20 or so rounds of golf in 2016, and I held steady with a 17.6 handicap at the end of the season. I managed to break my course record at one of my local haunts with an 88, and I shot an 87 at another local course, tying my personal best there. I even managed to gain some distance off the tee. So, I suppose I was fit enough for some golf in 2016. 

For my new year's resolution, I want to continue the trend and keep it simple:

Resolution #1: Stay fit for golf. While I'm being phased out in physical therapy, I've started up another golf strength training weekly session at the gym, added some Pilates reformer sessions and even signed up for monthly massages. In the off-season, I'm focusing on building up core and upper body strength, while working on rotational flexibility too -- these are all important to the golf swing.

It looks like a cold winter ahead, so I may not post a new update till spring. The pictures in this post are from New Year's Day, when it was unseasonably warm and hubby and I shared a small bucket of balls. Even though I haven't swung a club for 2 months, I managed to get off a decent shot or two. And I didn't hurt myself. A good omen, I think.

A New Course Record

So I finally shot an 88 and broke my course record at Pine Ridge. I've never been able to shoot lower than an 89 there, and yesterday I finally did it.

I was playing with Sergeant Pixie, one of the women from the league I joined. It was supposed to rain, and we went out around 10:30 am, hoping the weather would hold up. The round started out slow. We were stuck behind a foursome of dudes who liked to play fairways other than their own off the tee. After 3 holes, I shot 2 double-bogeys and a par. The waiting was taking the wind out of my sails. On the 4th hole, we were joined by the twosome behind us, and they slowed us down, so the pace seemed more reasonable. From there, I made 2 bogeys, 3 pars and a birdie, for a total of 5 over on the front 9. That's the lowest I'd ever shot on the front at that course, so I wanted to play on.

Sergeant Pixie had to leave, so I continued on with the other two, a pair of retired guys who were betting each other for pride and spare change. The clouds were gathering in the distant sky, but overhead it was blue and sunny. I wondered if it was gonna turn out to be my day. I deserved a good day.

It has been a tough year overall. I recovered from my left forearm tendonitis, thanks to the strengthening and stretching techniques I learned in physical therapy. Until about a month ago, I was still wearing a brace on my elbow when I golfed, but one day I totally forgot to put it on. My forearm didn't hurt after that round, so that's when I discovered I'd recovered and didn't need the brace anymore.

Unfortunately, I'm still suffering with right leg and glute pain, which the docs and physical therapists now think is due to trigger points and/or ischial bursitis. I've had a couple of dry needling sessions, and I don't mean sitting around while someone criticized me sarcastically. Dry needling is when the physical therapist sticks an acupuncture needle into a knot in your muscle, or trigger point, and wiggles it around to cause a twitch response, thereby resolving the trigger point. (And yes, it's as painful as its sounds.) It has helped tremendously but I still have pain if I sit too long or stand still too long, so I may be getting a corticosteroid shot for more pain relief.

Golfing keeps me from sitting and standing too long, and keeping track of a ball over the course of a 6-mile walk is a good distraction from pain. Since I can't sit, Sergeant Pixie was driving the cart with my bag on it, while I walked on the front 9, and afterward, one of the old gents was nice enough to drive me around instead.

My drives were longer than ever, thanks to all the glute exercises, scapular strengthening and pectoral stretches I've been doing from physical therapy. In some ways, physical therapy is just as good as personal training, especially when it's done from the sports medicine angle.

I also went back to using my U wedge for bunker shots. I choke down to the bottom of the grip and just whack at the sand, and the ball pops out every time. One of the old gents said that on these public courses, the sand is usually hard so the bounce on a normal sand wedge sometimes just gets in the way. Anyway, the U helped me a lot since I landed in more than a couple bunkers that day.

My back 9 was not as stellar the front. Although I made a birdie on a par 5 (only the second time I ever did that), I only made one par, and the rest were bogeys, doubles and even a triple. The 18th hole par 5 really did me in. I'd hit an amazing drive and second shot to within 100 yards from the hole. From there, it would be 6 shots (6!) to hole out -- a brain-fart slice to the right, then an overshot wedge over the green, then a chunked wedge onto the green, followed by a miserable 3-putt.

But still, I shot an 88. So it was a good day for me. Ten minutes after I drove away from the golf course, the skies clouded over with grey and the rain poured down. But I was safe and dry in my car, relishing the sub-90 on my scorecard. The golf season ends in a few weeks, and I'm only golfing once a week these days, so I might not be able to do better than 88 till next year. Of course, an 88 would be considered a terrible day for any professional golfer. But for me, it was a very good day. The best in awhile.

A Mighty Wind

It was my first official play day with the women's league I had joined. I had played with a few of the league women here and there a few times but this was the first 18 holes I would play with the group. The forecast called for a 30% chance of rain with gusts of wind as high as 30mph, but I had already canceled on a play day two weeks before due to rain in the forecast and it never actually rained that day. So I was hopeful that this rain forecast wouldn't come true either. 

I planned to walk with my pull-cart, and I brought a better umbrella this time. Feeling optimistic, I also wore white pants and a short-sleeve shirt instead of a long-sleeve one.

"It's not gonna rain, right?" I said to the pro shop cashier.

"Well the radar is clear right now," he said, pointing to the TV screen behind him where they displayed the weather radar. 

"I brought my umbrella, so that means it isn't going to rain," I said.

"Oh, like a talisman?" said the lady behind me.

"Exactly!" I said, gratified to know that I wasn't the only one in modern times who used the word "talisman."

There were 2 threesomes from the ladies league going out. In my group, I walked while the other two shared a cart. I hit a decent first tee shot and bogeyed the first hole. The second hole went the same. It was sunny, and the wind was up but not terribly so. On the third hole, an uphill par 4, we had all made it to the green and marked our balls, when cloud cover seemed to rush through like an ocean wave, bringing with it a sudden, brisk chill in the air. Within seconds, the wind rushed around like a hurricane and we were pelted with tiny, sharp drops of rain. I picked up my mark and ball, and rushed to where my golf cart had fallen over. I didn't even have time to put on my windbreaker which was stuffed in a pocket of my golf bag. In fact, I didn't even have time to put my ball marker back on my hat. I just clenched it tightly in one hand while dragging my cart in the other hand. The clubhouse was in view but I had to cross thee fairways to get there. The two ladies in my group had jumped in their cart and circled back to see if I wanted a ride. 

"No, I'm okay!" I shouted. "Maybe I could just run alongside your cart so I have some shelter." I don't think they heard me because they bolted off almost immediately. "That's right," I thought, "Save yourselves!" It felt like quite a dire situation at the time. I passed a short tree that was cracked in two. Tree branches were falling like rose stems after an ice skating performance. I saw two old men huddled against each other in a golf cart by a large pine tree, but even they decided to head indoors.

Once in the clubhouse, it was like a 60th year high school reunion of a boys school. It was all old man golfers, with the exception of my threesome and a few other non-league ladies. The power was out, so everyone just talked about the weather, watching through the big windows looking over the first hole.

My husband had sent me a text: "Be careful out there. Heavy rains coming."
I texted him back: "I know. They are here. In the clubhouse now."

After about 20 minutes, the skies cleared as suddenly as they had clouded and we set out to play again. We were going to take up from the 4th hole, but I scurried out ahead so I'd have time to place my ball where it was before and putt it out. It was only 5 or so feet from the hole, but I took two putts and then rushed over the the next tee.

With 4 over after 3 holes, I wasn't sure where the day would lead. But things turned out pretty well. We played to variably strong winds and the sounds of firetrucks off in the distance. Later I'd learn there were many weather-related power outages and traffic incidents. But here I was on the golf course, safe from car crashes and the need for electricity.

I went on to make 5 pars and a birdie on a par 4, and in the end I'd shot an 87 for the round, something I hadn't done for several years. I think the shushing of the wind helped serve as white noise to drown out any chatter from the ladies. Playing after a storm somehow made me feel as if I was in a state of grace. I shouldn't really be here, but here I am, so I must play well to deserve it. Ironically, the wind conditions were a blessing at times. Waiting for a certain gust to die down gives one an extra moment to reflect on what one is about to do, swing-wise. Also, there is such a thing as "helping wind," as any golfer knows.

So I survived 18 holes of golf during what some would later call a "tornado." I think I'm ready for Scotland.

A Pleasant Round

So I golfed with Auntie by myself for the first time yesterday. The ladies league I joined were playing too early the day before, so I decided to play with Auntie in the afternoon. Seri isn't leaving for Korea for another week, but she already shipped her golf clubs back home and has to finish packing. At first I was a little nervous about golfing just with Auntie (what would we talk about? should I bring snacks for her like Seri always did?). But the day turned out to be quite pleasant.

Coincidentally, we were playing a course called Mt. Pleasant. I hadn't played a full 18 at this course for a few years, so I was looking forward to the back nine. When I arrived at the clubhouse, I was surprised to see Bea. She seems to be going through some kind of mid-life crisis, judging from the fact that she often golfs with men who aren't her husband these days. But who am I to judge? Her boy-toy of the moment is a young Korean man who could be her son's age. I politely introduced myself, and then I shuffled off, not wanting to be a part of any tawdriness. Turned out, Auntie and I had the tee time after them, but we played leisurely and gave them plenty of space.

Auntie is a very consistent golfer. She is super-slim and petite and has a great short game. She also has a cool-as-a-cucumber demeanor that instantly put me at ease. She drove the cart and let me walk as much I wanted, since it is better for keeping my leg pain at bay. Our conversation was focused on the golf, just the way I like it. Mt. Pleasant has a few blind tee shots and tilted fairways, so I was always asking questions like, "Is this a dogleg left?," "Where should I aim to keep it in the fairway?" and "Is there a bunker behind that green?" Aside from that, it was comments like "Good putt!" and "Great shot!," the usual niceties that let your golfing partners know that you're appreciative of their game.

After the front nine, I had shot 10 over, so I knew it wasn't going to be a spectacular round. The back nine was harder, I think, starting with a par 5 that had rolling fairways as steep as a roller coaster ride. After a double-bogey on that hole, and a triple-bogey on the next hole, a par 3 shielded by bunkers (I really need a bunker lesson), I knew all was hopeless, so I relaxed a little, just trying to enjoy the day and enjoy the sunny skies and the breeze on my face. With the pressure off, I managed to make some pars, and then came hole 17, a long par 3 that brought some unpleasant memories to mind.

It's a downhill 167-yard tee shot over thick brush to a long, narrow green with bunkers on both sides and a drop-off of rough so steep on the right that there is a wooden staircase for golfers to climb back up to the green. The last time I had golfed this hole, as I recall, I hit an errant tee shot to the right and landed just at the base of the wooden staircase, just far enough from it not to impede my swing but not far enough for me to hit a wedge shot over it. I was stymied by those stairs, for sure.

This time, I was determined to land the green. I took a few deep breaths and took aim with my 3-wood. I flexed my knees. I kept my arms nice and long. I did not pick up my head too soon. The result? A stick-straight drive that landed at the edge of the green. Of course, I three-putted from there and made bogey, but still... I was darn proud of myself.

Oh, and I noticed that they removed the old wooden staircase, grassed it over and installed a new set of stairs at the back of the green. So I guess I was not the only one who'd been stymied by those old stairs.

Golfing in Pain in the Rain

Seri: What do you think, should we play?
Me: I think so. The weather says only a 30% chance of rain.

Seri: Really? My forecast says 60% chance between 11 and 4.

Me: I'm using National Weather Service. What are you using?
Seri: Accuweather.

Me: Let's check the radar. I like WBAL TV radar.
Seri: You know, radar is not always accurate, but I'll check mine.

[Silence while we both check our preferred weather radar services.]

Me: You're right, mine is showing green clouds between 11 and 4. [The green clouds are how clouds show up on the radar. They are not actually green.]

Seri: Well, what do you think, should we play?

Long story short, we decided to play. It was a tough, hilly city course but I wanted to walk to get a workout. I only planned to play 9 because my leg was still bothering me, as well as my left shoulder. It was cloudy and a bit chilly, which instantly put a cramp into my leg. 

But still, I played. And I actually played pretty well. I've already documented the beneficial effects that being in pain has on my game. But sometimes I play better in the rain too. It didn't rain the whole time. At first it was just a drizzle. But that fine, constant mist in the air has a tendency to lend a sense of urgency to the game. The skies could open up at any moment, so you better make the most of the time you've got before it does. 

Because the ground is wet as a sponge, any amount the ball would normally roll can be removed from the equation. Throughout the round, I just zapped the yardage with my range finder and took one extra club. There's less break on wet greens, and somehow my ball found the cup much more easily than usual. I even made a birdie on a par 3.

After 8 holes, I had shot only 5 over par. And then the skies opened up. I discovered that my supposedly waterproof windbreaker is merely water-resistant. And that golf umbrella I got for free at a tournament once really lets water in like a sieve. The 9th hole was an uphill par 5, and I was so soaked by the time I reached the tee, I couldn't keep a grip on my club. It took me 4 shots to get on the green but I managed a two-putt to save bogey, even with water dripping off my baseball cap brim and my leg throbbing.

So, I shot 6 over after 9 holes in the end. Now if only I could do that twice in a row on a sunny day, without pain. But I know there are some things I can't control. So I better make the most of the things within my control while I can.