2406

I'm sitting here tonight pondering my soccer career. I started on a team in March after years ( and years ) away from the game. Positions had changed and I would SWEAR the fields are larger and the games are longer ! That first night I met my team for the first time. I didn't know a soul. I'm not really like them. I'm not a " soccer Mom " or a devotee for years. I love the game and long for some worthwhile exercise. Actually, I guess that's why we're all there.

I lasted one and a half games before caving to my torn quad muscle. I would've thought it would be my knees that deceived me somehow, but I was wrong. A torn quad muscle will make you aware of it's distress on a regular basis. Every step, every acceleration of the gas pedal, every stair .

I missed the next four weeks.

Last week I started back up. Great field, fairly warm night, and I got a goal ! I woke up sore, but I had a fairly good week. Last night, another game. Big stadium, nice field ( although a pretty rough part of Seattle ) and a cool night. I blew several scoring opportunities, and may have injured my quad muscle all over again.

I suppose for some folks it would be a " no-brainer " to just quit while Im ahead and join the local Bocce Club instead. But I love it. I love the smell of the evening air. I love the running, the adrenalin, the being a part of a team . Frankly, I love the game. It just doesn't seem to be loving ME at the moment.