answering comments

"Are you managing to get to the gym at all?"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA uh no.  I haven't been to the gym since....oh....April? ish? And by April I think I mean March?  It's really quite sad, considering I'm still paying for it.  Maybe now that we're in our off-season, I'll try and go.

And by "try" I mean I probably won't go at all. Sigh.

So we had our last bout of the season, and I was in a really crappy mood for most of it because out of a full, sixty minute game, I was only in SIX jams.  (It would've been eight, but one I had to sit out because my equivalent in the previous jam was in the penalty box, and one was a total communication fuck-up and someone else went in in my place.)  Of course, I played like total crap in those six jams*, so it was probably for the best that I wasn't in more often.

Grr.  This season has just been so damn frustrating, due to all the circumstances beyond my control.  Next year's gotta be better, right?  RIGHT?

*edited to add: I played like total crap in 5 1/2 of those jams.  By the end I finally got my groove back(ish) and was able to keep knocking the other jammer out of bounds repeatedly.

Last bout of the season tomorrow

:(

Last night was our last official practice of the year (after this we'll be practicing once a week, on Mondays, but there's no mandatory attendance).  The last half hour of the night, the guys who work at the rink turned on the disco lights and played old school music and we just had Dance Party USA, which was fun.

trying to get back into the swing o'things

so last night's practice is the first one in a long time where I didn't feel like a complete failure.  (Notice I said complete.  I still have a lot of ground to make up.)

Sunday was my first Anton Apolo OhHELLno practice since....July?  something like that.  It was excruciating.  My legs were wobbly wobbly Jell-O until yesterday.

sigh....

So I lost another week of practice due to a combination of being sick and my father-in-law dying.  (Seriously, WTF is going on this year?)

I finally went to a practice last night and it was screamingly obvious that any sort of, oh, speed, endurance, skill I might have had at one point is just gone.  Poof, vanished.  I was not (and still am not) a happy camper.  So now it's crash-course time in getting back into something resembling shape.  Whee.

Oh and yeah, today's my birthday.  I'm 37.  Guh, that is fuckin' old.

ugh

I didn't go to practice yesterday because my father has a cold, and I got it when he came over to watch Maverick, and I didn't want to be Typhoid Mary and infect everyone.  Hopefully this will not fuck up my attendance requirements too much.

so!

the bout went well, our team won, I only fucked up once, maybe twice.  yay!

so our last bout of the season is a special round-robin thingy where we are dividing the league into three equal teams.  Tonight was our first night of scrimmaging in our new teams, and as I played, getting way more minor penalties than I should have for false starts and illegal procedures, I realized - this is the first time I've scrimmaged since, oh....July?

Yeah.  Our bench manager said I looked "floppy" out there, and I agreed with her - I felt floppy.  Weird and all over the place and stuff like that.

I did, however, get in an awesome hit on the other team's jammer (who happens to be Coach Superstar, who's coming back into the realm of skating after giving birth to her daughter).  So that was kinda nice.

so (I title many entries this way)

There's a bout on Saturday.  Our A team versus Boston's B team.  I get to NSO this time around! (Usually I am working bout production, which means I sit in the box office and listen to the cheers and not see anything.)  I'm working the penalty whiteboard, which should be interesting. Hopefully I will not run into any of the referees.  Hopefully I won't fuck anything up too badly.