Last night, I played in a pick-up game of soccer. First real physical activity since my last surgery in November. I only lasted about 20 minutes before I had to stop - clearly, I am really out of condition. I was panting for breath and my head was throbbing - at one point, I thought I was going to pass right out. But I put my head under a cold tap and drank over a litre of water, and I felt a little better.
I was mostly worried about how it would be, playing with a bag. I used to play soccer like it was a contact sport, and I was afraid that I would fall down flat on my face, the bag would burst and there would be poop everywhere. My husband tried to reassure me, but I kept playing the poop-everywhere scenario over and over again in my mind.
So we're at the game, and I'm going for the ball, and wouldn't you know it, I fell down flat on my face. Hard. Scraped up my knees and elbows. I got up and felt around my stomach with a bit of trepidation - but hey! Everything was still intact! Nothing burst! Hallelujah!
Does this mean that hockey is next?
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1 comment:
You Go Girl! I guarantee you that not many folks would attempt to even play soccer after going through half of what you went through! You Rock!
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