Exactly Never

"Exactly never" is the amount of times I would have predicted a few months ago that I'd ever want to learn mountain biking. We know what's happened with that...I'm hooked. It's also the number of times a week ago, that I'd have predicted that I'd play soccer again-- or want to. As a matter of fact, I was having a glass of wine with my cousin, Liz, on Friday evening and she asked if I ever play soccer anymore...and I replied adamantly--as I have for several years now since college-- that "I'm retired." Enter the usual reason that "Exactly never" has translated into "That would be so much fun!" for the last few months, HH. At the time I was hanging out with Liz, HH (a veteran of 5th grade soccer, almost "exactly never" status as if she'd care anyway) was in typical "upgrade" mode at an "invitation only" opening night party for players in the FOB soccer tournament. By the end of the evening, she, of course had been recruited for a team and was scheduled to play 2 games the next day. On Saturday morning, I gave her my cleats, socks, and 22 year old college shin guards with some "go get 'em" wishes...and I went out for a long run. I ran, well slogged, 10 miles down on Lake Washington Blvd. and returned to the Shoebox to shower and head out to watch (that's WATCH) FOB.

Despite the fact that I was wearing jeans + chacos, and had just eaten a huge egg & cheese bagel on the way to the field, all I had to do was see the grass fields... and HH running around out there with a bunch of other cute girls... and it was all over--- I was twitching to kick the ball and completely jealous that she'd gotten hooked up with a team without me. When she caught my eye from where she was playing and yelled, "You should be out here!" a pit crew on the sidelines kicked into gear and before I knew it, I was wearing shorts, a jersey, and cleats and chasing the ball around...and I even scored a goal with my left foot and thought, "Maybe I still have it!" Note to self: a 10 mile warm up for coming out of several years of soccer retirement is not recommended. Intermittent Jello shots and beers, however, make the whole thing better (this event is, as Stacia pointed out, a "soccer" tournament. Clearly, the emphasis here is placed on more fun and debauchery-related activities than soccer to say the least---makes Pride weekend look kind of like nursery school). I only played half a game on Saturday due to a family event in town (dangit, I missed HH's first goal!), but it was enough to determine how and where I'd be sore by the end of the weekend...I was hurting already.

Enter day 2. Unlike the other teams, most of our teammates didn't go out on Saturday night (honestly, I stretched and tried to work on some small knots in my IT bands) and we proudly dubbed ourselves, "Team Stay at Home." This helped us start the games on Sunday with a little more energy than our hungover-yet-PBR-toting opponents. (We're talking players and referees drinking beer and the DJ thumping tunes on the field by 9:30 a.m...why was college soccer never like this??). We won both games on Sunday (was I the only one keeping score? They seemed to notice I was a little more competitive than a few of the other players, oops...) and, I must say, there was a pretty impressive goal scored when I passed the ball to HH and she executed a perfect shot. Way fun. By the end of the 2nd game, however, I think most of us had caught up to the rest of the teams in beverage consumption and the soccer part of the "soccer" tournament had pretty much been scrapped on all 3 fields. At this point, I did NOT care about that fact and it was an effort to even walk anymore. I think we ended up in 3rd place in our division, but thankfully the final "competition" was not exactly a soccer game...By 4:00, things had deteriorated (or do I mean improved?) into quite the exhibition of costumes and behavior unsuitable to document on a blog or Facebook... and I needed a nap and some food to recover for the real party at Cowgirls later that night. I would love to post a more detailed description and some photos of the weekend, but, well...let's just say that might not be a good idea. I will say that the short summary of Sunday night's closing party included HH skillfully riding the mechanical bull at the bar with several hundred cheering fans and leave it at that. We were completely levelled on Monday and I am still a little sore 4 (!) days later. This morning, after a painful shuffling 5-mile run, I got a new prescription for physical therapy where I will try to have my hamstring re-constructed starting tomorrow...