Hi, it’s Mary, and welcome back to Being Mary.
So… let’s talk about the new wild craze that seems to be sweeping the nation — pickleball.
And yes, I know. Even the name sounds a little ridiculous. I mean, I didn’t exactly wake up one day thinking, “At 69, what my life is really missing is something called pickleball.” And yet… here we are.
When we were kids, play wasn’t something we scheduled. It was just who we were.
We ran around outside until the streetlights came on, scraped our knees, laughed until our sides hurt, and negotiated very seriously for “just five more minutes” before going inside.
Somewhere along the way — between raising families, paying bills, working, caregiving, grieving, and trying to keep all the balls in the air — play quietly slipped out the back door.
And the saddest part? We didn’t even notice it was gone.
After my husband died, and after moving to a new town, I found myself needing to do something that sounds simple… but really isn’t — I needed to make new friends.
And let me tell you, making friends at 69 is not quite the same as it was in kindergarten. Nobody hands you a juice box and says, “Go sit beside her, you’ll get along.”
My daughter showed me an ad that pickleball lessons were being offered at our local arena over the summer.
I stared at it for a bit. Then stared some more.
And eventually — very bravely, I might add — I pulled myself right out of my comfort zone, grabbed a paddle, and showed up not knowing a single soul.
And something amazing happened that very first night.
Everyone I met was kind. Helpful. Encouraging.
No eye rolls. No judgment. Just a lot of “You’ve got this” and “We were all beginners once.”
And there were others there too — people who, just like me, had walked in alone, nervous, trying something brand new. There was comfort in that. A quiet sense of we’re in this together.
I’m not sure how to fully explain how I felt when I got home that night.
There was this rush — an endorphin high I honestly hadn’t felt in a very, very long time.
Now… let’s also talk about how completely exhausted I was.
Every muscle reminded me the next morning that I had, in fact, moved my body.
But you know what? It felt good. The kind of tired that makes you smile.
What I’ve realized is that pickleball hits something much deeper than just movement.
Yes, it gets us active. Yes, it challenges us.
But it also gives us connection, laughter, and those silly little moments that make you forget — just for a while — that you’re a grown adult with responsibilities and a to-do list waiting at home.
Every good rally gives you a little dopamine hit.
Every shared laugh lifts your mood.
But most of all, it fills something we don’t talk about enough — that very basic human need for belonging.
Pickleball gives us a place to feel seen and welcome.
Strangers become partners. Partners become friends.
And before you know it, your circle is growing instead of shrinking.
Honestly? It feels like adult recess — only now we’re allowed to finish with a coffee… or a margarita. No permission slips required.
What amazes me most is the mix of people this sport brings together.
Young, old. Retired, working. Every background, every personality, every age.
No uniforms. No pecking order.
Just paddles, laughter, and the occasional “Wait… what’s the score?” or “Who served that again?” moment.
It’s one of the few spaces left where connection matters more than comparison.
And I think that’s why we get hooked — not just on the game, but on the culture around it.
Games turn into conversations. Conversations turn into friendships.
And suddenly you’ve got people in your phone named “Pickleball Kelly” or “Pickleball Brenda.”
And if you’re smiling right now, it’s because you know exactly what I mean.
Pickleball reminds us how good it feels to simply play.
To show up without pressure.
To laugh until your cheeks hurt.
To remember that joy doesn’t live in our inbox or on TikTok — it lives in these small, shared moments on a court with people who slowly start to feel like family.
Now, I’m not saying everyone needs to rush out and join pickleball.
It’s not for everyone — and that’s okay.
What I am saying is this: get out there.
Join something that brings you joy.
Try something new.
Meet new people.
Invite fresh conversations and relationships into your life — no matter your age, your stage, or how nervous you feel walking in the door.
And if you know someone who could use a little encouragement to put themselves out there and find some fun again, please share this episode with them. You never know who might be needing that nudge.
Until next time on Being Mary —
keep walking, keep laughing, keep lobbing and dinking…
and most of all, keep being that wonderful you. 💛
