From walking into that slightly dusty smelling gym

Taking off my sweatpants and hoodie,

Setting my navy blue bag down

And taking what feels like forever to put on my knee pads, ankle braces, and shoes

I find my warm up partner,

We stand sideline to sideline

Throwing the ball back and forth,

And back and forth,

Until our arms feel that somewhat tingly sensation of blood rushing to them

My heart begins to pound faster, and faster

My throat becoming dry, my lungs burning,

Until I can taste the soft, cold water reaching every limb of my body

 I repeat this sequence until I am putting my sweatpants back on

The lights on the ceiling shine like gold stars,

Blinding those who dare to look at them,

Making the ball seem like a invisible silhouette,

Impossible to see, but yet still very much there

The floor is cold,

The concrete covered with red and black sport court, 

That is trying to cushion every knee pad and elbow to ever grace it,

But only creates the worst burns and bruises,

Which flourishes into more strength, more grit 

Arms start to become red from the pounding of the ball,

Fingers jammed,

Knees scuffed,

Elbows scraped,

Feet sore,

Strength formed

I love the sound of sneakers squeaking on the floor,

People yelling they have the ball,

Whistles screeching as the next point is awarded,

Parents cheering as their built in favorite team wins

The environment is inviting, yet tough

The court shows no mercy, yet is the most forgiving

The ball stings arms, yet is so soft

The coaches scream, yet they are the nicest people you would ever meet

The sport is draining, yet the most exhilarating 

And that is why I love what I do,

That is why volleyball is my mental release, and my safe space, my second home