Only an athlete will understand that rush that comes over your body right before you step on to the field/court. You become so anxious as you wait for that whistle to blow. You start to get nervous, yet determined all at the same time. Then the whistle blows. Your body begins going through the motions that are much too familiar, the ones you've been repeating over and over for days, weeks, months, years. You don't even need to think about what you're doing anymore-- it's all instinct from here on out.

All athletes are familiar with the series of events I just discussed. However, not all of them are familiar with what happens when you don't feel that rush as you step on the field/court and when the game you used to live for and breathe for becomes an old love that you look back on from time to time.

When I first realized I no longer loved playing sports I was pissed off. I was mad at the people I felt were responsible for making me lose interest in the one thing that brought me piece of mind. I was mad at myself for allowing something so dear to my heart slip away right before my eyes. I was mad that all of the hard work and hours that I put into playing this sport felt like it was for nothing.

Then I was sad.

I was sad that I didn't get that rush anymore when I stepped on the court. I was sad that when that whistle blew, I was annoyed because I didn't want to be here anymore. I was sad because this game, the one that became my first true love, was becoming something that brought me more pain as each day passed. I wanted so badly to be able to feel that love for the game again, but it just wasn't there anymore. If it's possible, then I think I used up all the love I had for it.

It was a huge shock too many people that I wanted to quit the sport that I spent half my life playing and that I was really good at playing. People would come up to me and say, "Why did you quit? You were so good." My response always was: does being good at something make you obligated to engage in it if you are completely unhappy with doing so? No.

My family was not happy with my decision because so much time and money had gone into me becoming a better athlete for this sport, and quitting seemed like it was all for nothing. But it wasn't. It's not like I was spending the time and money to get to a certain end point. There was no finish line I was racing towards. I was not trying to be a college athlete or the best player on my team or to break some record at my high school. I was trying to explore that athletic side of me and engage in an activity with friends that was fun and competitive at the same time... and I did that. I made so many memories and almost all of my best friends because of this sport. I may have quit the sport, but those memories still exist and so do those friendships. I won't lie though, I had thought that the point of playing this sport for so many years was so I could play my senior year and be a captain and such, but it wasn't. The point was just to be happy and have fun while doing something I was so passionate about. Sports allowed me to do that, and I am so thankful for that opportunity.

I had a great first love- basketball, but I've come to realize that it won't be my only love.

So, to the athletes that realize that you don't get that familiar rush as you step onto that court or that field, that you are annoyed at being here, that you aren't having fun, you aren't happy and you don't love this game that you dedicated so much of yourself to, here is what I have to say to you: it's okay. You can call it quits. You're not quitting because it is hard, you're quitting because it isn't fun anymore. There's such a difference in those two reasons. Running on that field or court doesn't make you happy, it doesn't give you a rush of excitement. Maybe the game feels more like a job or a duty, then a game. When you start to forget why you began playing this sport in the first place, when you can't remember what you felt for this game as a child, then it’s okay to put down your sticks, to hang up your jerseys and to blow the whistle to end the game. I think sometimes people feel obligated to do things for other people, but remember, you don't have to play for the parent that spent so much time teaching you the game, for your best friend who you've run down the court with for years, for your teammates who rely on your contribution to the game or for your coach who dedicated extra time to helping you improve on your skills. You don't play for anyone. You play for you. You play because you get that rush when you step on that field... and when that rush starts to go away and it becomes stressful to be in that environment, then you can say goodbye to the game that you once loved with all of your being. It's okay. Greater loves will exist in your lifetime.