I have never been a particularly lucky golfer, and my game could best be described as mediocre even on a good day.

But I never expected that doing something really good for myself would hurt my golf game.

It's very strange, but since I returned from Texas and since I have continued to lose weight (104 pounds as of today), my golf swing has gone all to hell. I don't know if it's because my arms are thinner ... or because I don't have to swing across a big gut ... or what, but I have played pretty badly for the last few months. I had reached a point in my game where I almost always broke 100, and where I had a fighting chance to break 90, but since returning from Texas, three of the five rounds I've played have ended with scores in three digits.

It's really frustrating to have that kind of setback, and what it has done has made me enjoy golf a lot less at a time when I'm getting ready to move into a home in a golf-course community. How's that for irony?

[caption id="attachment_636" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="The 8th green, or maybe the 9th"]<a href="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/DSC_0269.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-636" title="DSC_0269" src="http://mikerappaport.net/onevoice/wp-content/uploads/2010/09/DSC_0269-300x199.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="199" /></a>[/caption]

I originally thought that once we moved to Georgia, I would play golf three or four times a week. But now that I've gotten so much into walking for my health, and since I have such big plans as far as gardening, I find myself thinking that getting out onto the course once or twice a week will be plenty.

It's funny, though. No matter how badly things are going, there is usually one good moment -- one good shot -- that leaves a golfer eager to get back out there. For me it came on the 17th hole at Empire Lakes, a tough par three that goes about 190 yards with a big sand trap right in front of the green.

I hit a good first shot and was just off the green, but in deep rough. My second shot was mediocre, and it left me on the green about 30 feet from the hole.

My putt -- the one I hoped just to get close -- was a little too fast and probably a little off line as well. But about two-thirds of the way along, it hit a pebble someone had left on the green. The ball popped into the air briefly and kept going, but its speed had slowed a little and its trajectory had changed as well.

It rolled directly at the hole and dropped in for a par.

I had to laugh. Things like that just <em>don't</em> happen to me.

I guess I won't give up on the game yet.