Getting Old...

Today I reminded that I am not 14 years old anymore.

OK, I am very well aware of this and have been for some time... But yesterday served as a true kick-in-the-britches kind of reminder.

There was a time in my life (between the ages of 8 and 18) where I was fully capable and used to playing multiple softball games in one day.  I think a personal record is seven or eight.  I could do it then because my body had a little thing called resiliency, and trying to win your way out of losers brackets was just apart of the game.

Yesterday, Ryan and I played in our first slowpitch tournaments for the year and each played four games.  He played with his men's league and I played in my women's league.  The weather was amazing (hello, blue sky and 60 degree temperatures!) and my team had the attitude that this tournament would be one to "get the rust off."

We got the rust off alright, and got whomped in the process.

I felt pretty good during the first game. I hit well, ran the bases without any searing pains, fielded cleanly, and was easily making the throw from shortstop to first base.

As each game went on, those things I was doing well... Kind of, sorta stopped.

My body was aching and getting tighter and tighter.  My hitting stayed decent, but me sprinting became jogging, crisp throws turned into lobs, and I stopped fielding the ball so cleanly*.

*I have big old knots and bruises on both of my inner ankles/shins to prove this.  Thankfully my glove deflected these hits before my shin acted as a barricade.

We both came home and just laid on the couch - not wanting to move.  I almost didn't want to go to bed because I knew what would be waiting for me this morning.

Today, every inch of my body screaming, "WHY?  WHHYYY did you do that?!"  Sitting, standing, and even walking are a challenge, and probably entertaining for passerby's to see.  While grocery shopping after church, Ryan tried to throw a bag of sunflower seeds into the cart and missed.  I bent (OK, I tried to bend) over to pick them up and got stuck.  My quads could not muster the strength to push me back up.

In case you are wondering... The answer is yes.  Ryan stood there laughing at me and refused to help me in my time of need.  Jerk.

Laughing, coughing, and taking deep breaths are all things that I am trying not to do today - simply because they cause pain.  Even my fingers hurt trying to type this.

I must sound like a real wussy, and I am OK with that.

I am just thankful that I have a month until our next tournament and will have some league games under my belt before then.  

Not only can I hone my "skills," but I may need that whole month for my body to recover.

Take Luck,

LP