Lunch time football- not for the faint-hearted

I almost had a heart attack! The culprit? Football.

No, I wasn’t watching the game. I was playing football during my lunch break. A few guys at work play every Thursday and they were kind enough to extend an invite to me. UnFortunately, I have been looking for a way to increase my heart rate that didn’t include extreme sports to keep fitter. So I said ‘Yes’.

Source: Aha! Jokes, http://www.AhaJokes.com/

I ran around the pitch following what I hoped was the ball and kicked it (mostly missing and kicking air) in the direction that I prayed was the goal. My chest felt like it was going to explode. I must have blacked out but I vaguely remember reaching for my water bottle and thinking that this was the end of my life. Apparently, it was a 45-minute game but I can swear we were running like mice for days. The captain caught me looking at my wrist watch one time and shot me a dagger-look. I gave a final sigh of relief at the end of the game when the 9-4 score (we lost) was announced. I was later told that I scored a goal. I truly cannot remember that happening but who am I to refuse a pat on my very sore back? In any event, I have been particularly  happy since the game, thanks to the release of those desperately needed “happy” hormones that are now running free. It must be a rather high dose because I am thinking that I will play Thursday lunch time football again soon…..  After my breathless display of talent, surely, I should get another invite :). When I come to my senses, I’ll make a sensible  decision to stick with swimming and perhaps to the occasional treadmill…

Invasion of Extreme sports (I am the Resistance)

There are two types of people in this world: People that do extreme sports and people who don’t. I’m of the latter breed.

I first knew I hadn’t been bitten by the extreme-sports-vampire the day I was on a roller coaster ride at a Disney theme park. It was the most bizarre experience I’d ever had. I kept wanting to jump out in a bid to save myself. Fortunately, my brain consulted with the fear flowing through my veins and reluctantly came to a resolution that it was better to stay put.

My plan to stay alive for as long as possible seems to be going down the drain since my dear husband (DH) and admirable son decided to learn how to ski. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve been completely against it. I told my DH that life is dangerous enough and he should really be trying to stay around long enough to see our kids have kids. He laughed but I was very serious. I was most infuriated that my son had been infected with this thrill bug. With all my kicking and screaming, my boys have started to ski anyway.

This skiing madness has been going on for almost 2 months now and it’s only last week that I went to watch my son do his thing. He specifically requested that I watch his moves. In addition to the pressure of watching my 5-year old “fall” down a tall slope of artificial snow, there’s the not-so-subtle comments that my DH has been making about going on a family ski holiday. I’ve been ignoring him. Then the other day, he bought me ski gear, the gloves, jacket, the lot. He said it’s because they were on sale. Hmm. I have to admit that he paints a great picture of a family holiday where we’re all skiing, having something in common to enjoy. I guess it beats the shopping the boys have to endure at my hands on most holidays. And it beats the theme parks I endure.

Internally, my defenses have crumbled. After watching my son’s cool moves, I kinda started thinking about how awesome it’ll be to actually be able to ski. That will be sooo cool. Who knows, I can migrate to mountain climbing in a few years!

I’m still maintaining to my DH that I will NOT learn how to ski. It’s pay back for the time he refused to learn to play SCRABBLE.

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