I don't talk about it much, but I'm a pretty decent piano player.
Often at times, people who play instruments are shortchanged, but I've come to appreciate and respect those who claim mastery of an instrument...something which I doubt I will ever truly be able to achieve.
In actuality, playing an instrument requires just as much precision, speed, and all-important practice as any sport. It's almost like martial arts on a smaller scale.
Almost all of the senses are involved in piano: seeing the music on the page and accurately reading it, touching the keys in the correct sequence, hearing each note and piecing together the full sound. Each aspect is vital to the success of the whole.
At first, I was extremely reluctant to learn piano. My parents practically had to drag me to the lessons and force me to practice during the week. I hated sitting in front of that black and white monster everyday. It was intimidating, and of course, comparing myself to the grand masters didn't help my case. I looked upon Bach with spite...to a degree, I still do.
But in time, I grew more comfortable with the piano. Even to the point where I actually liked it.
Playing an instrument has provided me with an outlet of sorts, an entirely new and unique way to express my feelings. Piano has become, more or less, an extention of myself. The road my have been long and difficult, but honestly, I'm grateful for it.