Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Once a Grass Fairy....

Always a Grass Fairy?

In case you didn't know, the Pi is Mexican.

Which means playing soccer is a mandatory thing.

Like going to Catholic School.

I started playing when I was a mere girl, at the age of 8.

I quit at the age of 16 for various reasons:

I hated the HS coach.

I hated running.


I wasn't as awesome as I could've been.

And my dad pissed me off, my parents were getting a divorce, so I figured I'd get back at him by quitting soccer, which he loved, played for most of his life, and coached for many years.

Way to go Pi.

And who did I really end up hurting with that one?

Myself.

Duh.

The summer after I quit playing, I put on a pair of jean shorts that used to fit me perfectly.

They still did, except for one thing.

My ass had gone a little flat.

The shorts bubbled out a little, but there wasn't any ass to support them!


I rethought my decision right then, I don't remember the details, but I didn't start playing again...


Why not work-out?

Organized working out is something I've never done.

I liked gym class, the swimming, step aerobics, all that other crap we did like taebo and sliding.

But I've never done any of that stuff on my own, always had to be a class of some sort, dancing, pilates, yoga and dancing my ass off at the club in college.


3 years, 2 months, and 9 days of working in an office full-time sitting on my ass has started to take its toll.

That's a whole lot of non-exercise.

And the active dancing like crazy clubbing has even subsided a bit...(ok alot)

Then, last week at lunch one of my buffet-loving compatriots mentioned the soccer league he plays in....

Oh we need some ladies, we'd love to have you...


The minimum age for females to join is 14.

For men, it's 25...

Recipe for under-age naughty disaster?

Maybe, but that isn't the case.

So I thought about it and figured, well fuck, I'm only working one night a week at the bowling alley over the summer, if I don't do this, I'm going to end up on the patio of a different bar every night with a margarita.

Then I'll be out of shape and an alcoholic.

::sigh::

Pass.

So I joined the team.

Seeing as I haven't played soccer in 10 years, I didn't have any of the equipment.

I made a list and went shopping last night.

Sports stores are places that I don't find myself in alone.

Thank god it was a weeknight.

I wandered around that place for a good hour collecting soccer stuff.


Whilst trying on shin guards I saw the cones and markers used for practices and whatnot...


All the memories from youth soccer came flooding back.

And I suddenly missed it and became excited for my first game.

I was also dreading it.

Why?

Running and Pi don't get along.

The soreness I swore I would welcome, it means I worked stuff that hasn't been worked in a while, right?

Well I got a bit more than I bargained for.

Running is one thing, balance is another.

It was like my body was moving faster than my feet and I would just get ahead of myself and then topple over


Four times.

I fell four times in my first game.


The first two, I went down on my knees pretty damn hard.
ouchie knees
The third, someone said it looked like I'd been snipered.

Oh yes, they sting, it's quite the sensation, and they're scraped.

My thighs are super sore.

The outsides mostly, the ones you use to actually lift your leg, yeah having a problem with that right now

And standing up/sitting down.

Uugghhhh.

This shit makes me feel old.
(I can hardly wait to put on my heels tomorrow)

I'm not complaining, merely stating facts. I hate that whining shit. I will suffer through this part until it doesn't hurt as badly.

But at least now I'm doing something.

I'm going to get back into shape!

Bubble butt, here I come.

1 comment:

Mike said...

heh, flat ass :P