The first three steps I take each morning are odd, uncomfortable little things. First figuring which hurts the least between the ankle and the heel, then adjusting accordingly. It wasn't meant to be this way.
I play a lot of softball and I think folks should split their reaction based on that statement. It's not nearly as lame and lazy as half of you think and not as fun and resoundingly athletic as the other half does. Softball has done wonders towards tearing me, a very good athlete all told, down in a matter of around five years. Last week I sacrificed my elbow, feeling it bend just enough the wrong way to know it would be a painful part of my life for a long time. Making matters worse was that the umpire falsely called the man I was tagging safe when he was in fact as out as Jodie Foster ought to be. So, I got slammed and my team didn't even give a fuck that my favorite limb was throbbing like a 12 year old's satchel on the eve of the bikini season.
You know the big "suiting up" sequences people love so much in movies? I have one too now. Take the pill, rip open the Icy/Hot package, pull it up to the elbow, rub ointment on the ankle, rotate the shoulder [rotator cuff: R.I.P. 1995] until it stops popping, squeeze into compression shorts, and then slowly grind into gear.
I do it for only one reason, continuity. I love softball. I now love golf more and soon I'll transition more fully to that sport, but I'm starting to have to say goodbye to things I love as I embrace the mid-30's and I wonder if it's not all that different from selling out as a human being and becoming something I hate.
NN
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