Yesterday I played my third soccer game in years (I won't say how many). A year after having my daughter I have finally found it acceptable for me to leave her for a few hours with her father/my husband while I attempt to find the skills that I once had. Let me tell you, the second I walk out that door I start thinking about soccer and I try to find some rock song on the radio to "pump me up" for the game. I'm not sure "pump me up" would be the right saying or "wake me up" would be more fitting. Still after a year I find myself exhausted pretty much all hours of the day. As I enter the complex where I am about to play I see field after field after field most of them filled with adults such as myself (although some not nearly as old as I have discovered) trying to run up and down the field for 45 minutes a half without going into cardiac arrest. Most of the people I have seen are in good shape, some younger some older. The rest of us, who just happened to join the team on a whim when one of their girlfriends suggested it, are thinking that if they play every weekend and chase a one year old all week that maybe, just maybe, they will be in shape by the end of the season. So I sit down on the sidelines and put on my shin guards and socks and cleats, checking my bag to make sure I have that handy bottle of icy hot for after the game as the agony sets in the second i get to my car. I run out onto the field, already winded (just kidding, not really) and kick the ball around with a teammate feeling like hey, I can do this. As the game starts I get out onto the field and make my first sprint towards the ball, pulling something, twisting something else and really wondering what I'm doing????? I'm a forty year old mother of a 1 year old child, if I get hurt then what??? So the game progresses, I touch the ball a few times, I take a shot at goal which if anyone saw it they would have thought I was passing it to my teammates on the sidelines (haha) and we win, thankfully, now I can sit down and evaluate myself. I feel ok, a bit sore, yes already, a bit more out of shape but I'm happy I am here and happy I decided it was ok for me to leave my daughter in good hands and take this time for myself. Now I have six days to recover, ice, heat, icy hot, etc. and then do it all over again. I can't help it I love the sport, I always have I always will. Must be that competitive nature in me, but for now I'm in a hurry to get home to my love, my little girl.
Erin- I'm put myself in your shoes and compared it to the first few times I was getting back into hockey months ago. I remember thinking and becoming anxious about what was going to happen and what I was going to do. It's funny because I think what you just described what happens to alot of us who have been out of the game for quite some time. You say that you can't help it that you love the sport and the competitive nature in you. I totally can agree on that with ice hockey. Although I haven't played hockey in about 10-13 years, I still find myself wanting to play. I have always wanted to play and I finally got out there and bought all the gear I needed. The funny thing is that I never played "ice" hockey on a organized team. It was mostly pond hockey and floor hockey. And years later I put some ice skates on and I feel like I have been playing all these years. It's such a awesome feeling.Don't give up the things that you enjoy the most! I'm sure you won't!
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