It makes me realize just how much I still haven't conquered the feeling of horrible frustration at my perception of my body and my actual body being out of sync --- but of course this is completely common when practicing physical tasks, no matter how ridiculous they are intrinsically. I remember learning to play the piano when I was really young and just hating my fingers being slower than I wanted them to be, straining to push them to be where I wanted them to be, when I wanted them to be there, and they just wouldn't cooperate much of the time. Now, as regards piano specifically (and typing, too) it's not so bad anymore: I feel at home with my fingers, somehow; I can send thoughts out through them, musical or otherwise, and though they still sometimes don't cooperate perfectly, I feel like I've come to accept it.
But gross kinesthetics are another story. I remember playing racquetball last year with norm, and it was only the bare realization that I am actually supposed to act like an adult that kept me from, like, throwing temper tantrums on the court. It's like a kind of pain to have such a sharp image of where my arm is supposed to be, how fast it's supposed to be moving in which direction, how hard the ball is supposed to bounce off the racquet, which direction it's supposed to fly off, and abruptly have the whole perfect, fluid image shattered by the reality of a completely fucked up shot.