Rowan Sanan (he/him/his), Low Entropy Volunteer Writer
Anyone who has known me for a while knows that I don’t partake in sports much anymore, but I still love them. I always watch American football with my mother, and I participated enthusiastically in school sports (despite not always being as good as my classmates).
One of the first sports that I remember really enjoying in elementary school was volleyball. It taught me a lot about teamwork—many parts all working like a well-oiled machine, constant communication and camaraderie. Wanting everyone to succeed to fulfil a common goal created a sense of belonging. Plus, I still felt independent and individual, since players had different roles and positions on the court.
It was one of the first sports that I enjoyed practicing for, as well. The exercises were both engaging and challenging, and they helped me learn consistency in my movements with the ball, as well as different strategies for how to approach the game.
Another sport I did from a young age was archery. It taught me about strategy—being able to aim and make a better judgement on where I aimed next based on where the previous arrow flew. But the thing I loved most about archery was not the strategy needed, or how cool I felt holding a weapon. What I loved most was how relaxing it was. I could really take my time without any external pressure. I didn’t have to compete with anyone but myself if I didn’t want to. It was just me, my bow, an arrow and my target. The noise of the world couldn’t bother me at the archery range. Archery became something I was really good at, and it gave me a huge confidence boost.
After a while, I stopped going to the range as much. I can’t really recall why, but I keep thinking about it and considering whether or not I should visit a range sometime. Maybe writing this will be the push I need to go try it out again and see how rusty I’ll be after so many years.
Volleyball and archery aren’t my absolute favourite sports, though. That spot goes to fencing. I don’t remember exactly how I started the sport, but I remember really liking the idea of sword fighting, so when I learned about fencing, I was excited to try it. I got padded out in protective layers and gear and started with the basics—stretches, footwork, terminology and more. My coach was so unbelievably kind and patient with all of us, and did a fantastic job teaching me despite my active mind and excess of energy.
Fencing taught me even more about strategy. How to watch your opponent and guess their next move before they make it. How to be a good judge of distance so you know exactly how many steps to take before you can lunge and hit your target. How to flick your wrist just right so that your blade deters your opponent’s, giving you the chance to strike. It was like a puzzle, except I could make the pieces and fit them together myself. I remember using my height to my advantage—I was much shorter than my opponents, so they had a harder time targeting me if I moved fast.
It was also a very intense activity. It was a full-body workout and would exhaust me for a whole day afterward—but I have very fond memories of going to get Vietnamese food and frozen yogurt with my father afterwards. I think that positive association makes fencing even more nostalgic for me. Similarly to archery, I stopped fencing when I moved away from the fencing studio. I tried to go to another fencing gym, but I didn’t like it as much and chose not to continue going there. It’s been a long time and I’ve outgrown all my old gear, so I’m not sure if or when I’ll ever get back to fencing.
Fencing also gave me a really good idea of how to deal with competition, and subsequently how to cope with losing. I was never the best fencer in that studio, but I’ve always had an intense competitive nature. Losing was difficult for me at first, especially since fencing isn’t always played as a team sport and losing a bout felt like it was entirely my own fault. Being able to celebrate my wins, but also cope with my losses was really helpful for me to come to terms with the fact that I wasn’t always going to be able to win, and that was okay. I was able to take my losses and turn them into something productive, learning how to change my strategies and adapt, creating consistency and steady improvement. In hindsight, fencing pushed me just as hard mentally as it did physically.
That’s what I love so much about sports. They challenge people to improve themselves physically, but the ways that they can challenge the mind and one’s emotional maturity is truly incredible. Team sports are always special for the togetherness and teamwork they foster, but I think individual sports are just as valuable for the mind and the soul.
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Rowan is a university student who loves to write books and poetry, read all kinds of books and spend time with his family and pets.
