More Than Just Another Sport

Most athletes grow up believing sports have an ending.

Maybe it's after high school.

Maybe it's after college.

Maybe it's when work gets busy, kids come along, or your body doesn't recover quite like it used to.

For so many people, sports become something they used to do.

For Mental Health Awareness Month, I want to share something more personal.

I have lost close friends to suicide who I carry with me daily. I have also had my own struggles—moments when I have felt lost, overwhelmed, imperfect, and unsure of who I was supposed to be.

For most of my life, sports were where I found release.

I grew up with a softball glove and a lacrosse stick in my hands. I played attack in college, and I was always ball hungry.

Alina playing college lacrosse.

I loved competing, being part of a team, and having somewhere to put all of my energy.

On the field, everything else became quiet.

Then college ended.

I thought I was ready to be done playing competitive sports. I thought graduating meant it was time to move on, find a job, and begin the next part of my life.

What I did not realize was how much of myself I would lose when I lost my sport.

No one really prepares college athletes for that part.

One day, your schedule revolves around practices, lifts, games, teammates, and constant competition. Then suddenly, it is over. Something people truly don't understand unless they have experienced it. The structure disappears, your teammates who became your family move away, your athletic clothes go in a box and the jeans come out.The world keeps spinning.

The thing that helped you release stress, feel confident, and understand who you were is no longer part of your everyday life.

You are expected to be grateful for the experience and ready for whatever comes next.

I thought I was ready.

I wasn’t.

Then I walked into The Heights looking for a job.

Padel players in the middle of a point.

I wasn't looking for another sport.

I wasn't looking for another passion.

But somewhere between my first few matches and the hundreds that followed, I realized something had changed.

Something in me lit up again.

I felt like a kid in a candy shop. I wanted to learn everything. I wanted to play every point, chase every ball, and stay until my feet failed me. I found myself thinking about matches after they ended and counting down until I could play again (some days getting home at 10pm and playing at 8:30am). Yeah it has consumed me.

I had found competition again—but more importantly, I had found a part of myself that I thought was gone.

Padel became my release.

Celebrating a fun padel point

My mental health is better when I am on the court. I am in a better mood when I go home. When life feels loud, padel gives my mind somewhere to focus. When things are not peaceful, the court helps me find a little peace.

It does not make every hard thing disappear. It is not a cure, and it does not replace asking for help when you need it.

But movement matters. Community matters. Having somewhere to go where people know your name matters. Having something that makes you excited to get out of bed, pushes you to grow, and reminds you that you are still capable of feeling joy matters.

That is what padel has given me.

Padel is for everyone, but I want to speak directly to the former college athletes who may recognize themselves in this story.

If your sport ended and you have not felt completely like yourself since, you are not alone.

You don't need to lose the competitive part of yourself. You don't need to loose your ability to be part of a team. Maybe that chapter ended, but that does not mean your life as an athlete did.

Come find a new chapter.

Friends enjoying padel together.

Come find a new court, a new sport, and a new community.

You might walk through the doors believing you are only coming to try padel.

You may leave having found a piece of yourself again.

In the United States, you can call or text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.

You matter far beyond the points you win, the games you play, or the athlete you used to be.

Today, I'm at The Heights seven days a week.

Yes, I'm the General Manager.

But I'd probably still be here even if I wasn't.

Because somewhere along the way, this stopped being where I work.

It became where I play, where I compete, and where I've met complete strangers and they have became my friends. I have traveled with my members friends.

If you've been curious about padel, don't just read about it.

Experience it.

Find your new release like I did.

START PLAYING PADEL TODAY