Softball last night was a marked improvement on last Tuesday. But also a lot more injurious. If that’s the word. Lots of people pulling things.
I’m definitely at the age where things… pull. And I’m not alone. We had, er, three people (not counting myself) hurt last night, out of nine; all muscle pulls. All different ones, too. And everyone knew their muscle names! I was like “I think I pulled that big front-of-leg one and that other inseam one” while my colleagues were all “I have overextended my latissulumaurlar dorslectimi!”
So last night was stretching, foam rolling, and liberal amounts of heating cream applied by my wonderful spouse. This morning I got a stiff 10k in, and while I’m feeling it, I think running it out (and stretching after) will hopefully do me some good.
But I’ve learned some valuable lessons. The first is “let the ball fall into the glove.” The others mainly have to do with warming up; the pulls (for me) were all from sprinting off home plate. If there were a version of softball where you hit the ball and then run a measured 5k, I think I’d be fine. But my muscles clearly aren’t used to moving real fast, real quick.
I’m pulling things, but not pulling drinks.
That was a forced pun, sorry. But it’s true — and I don’t think there’s really much of a drinking vibe among the group in general, which is a relief. A couple people might have gone out for a beer afterwards, but there’s no feeling of exclusion as a non-drinker. Which I wasn’t, like, super worried about but it’s still there, you know? Nobody likes being the odd person out.
Definitely feeling my age today, though. And my lack of softball competence, but I’ve come to an understanding with it. Tally ho!