It was one of those nights.
Every pass sent my way was errant, every shot I took was blocked. I ran my ass off and we won 3-1, but it wasn’t my night.
I’m in the midst of a goal drought. Usually, I score the bulk of the goals for our team with many able assists from my friends Allison and Jen. But not this evening, and not the last couple of games.
But I did run fluidly and without problems, which was welcome- I’d been having some numbness in my calves, on the lateral side. It scared the bejeezus out of me, but the problem was an easy fix. My lower back/hips were out of alignment. A couple of adjustments later, and the weirdness stopped. So if anything, my major victory tonight was running pain-free and speedily.
I found out later that the other team -who, if compared against my team, would have a higher average age- said of me:
“There’s no way she’s over 30, she’s too fast.”
My stalwart teammate Sarah, known for her quick wit, replied:
“Oh no, she’s definitely over 30.”
“How old is she?” one of them asked.
“47.”
Of course, this was delivered with an impeccable deadpan and was apparently believed. Bayou scoffed at that, but I figure perhaps their eyesight wasn’t too great and hell, I could be botoxing for all they know.
47. Hmmf. I hope I move that well when I am.
