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Soccer fever

Dear Diary,
(I mean...manly blog of men stuff)
Thursday evening I played my first indoor soccer game in probably 4 years. All said and done, it was a BLAST!! I absolutely loved having the chance to be competitive and turn it on athletically (in a co-ed league, so it wasn't ALL that, but still).
However, when one's own body hasn't played soccer in 4 years, when one hasn't demanded the rigorous stop and go and change of direction that soccer requires, one will soon find out the next day that those muscle groups that one demands the attention of (while they still be there) are not nearly up to snuff with the level of expectation. And then one will realize that climbing the stairs, crouching, and climbing in and out of a car are suddenly delightfully painful activities.
Today, post house build (Help Build Hope at Parkside), my legs are reminding me that I have a looong way to go before I can expect to get any response from them again. Gratefully there are 2 weeks before the next game. What's that? How did the game go? Well....let me tell you.

I remember once upon a time when I played soccer that I could play goalie pretty well.
That was then.
I started the first 10 minutes in the goal box and after their 5th goal and the 2nd recommendation by a fellow teammate to switch positions, I decided it might be good for me to take a slight break from the back of the field and press onward.
Turns out that was a good idea.
My legs allow me to be a much better asset in the open field at stealing passes and creating offensive plays than they are at stopping opposing scoring drives.
All in all, we lost 8-4. I'm responsible for allowing 5 goals (1 bounced off my hands and into the net, one wasn't blockable by even Shaq), and scoring 1 goal. Not bad....? hmmmmm

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