After a pregnancy-induced 18 month hiatus from softball, I returned to the field of battle last night. (And no, I wasn't pregnant for 18 months (though it did feel that way at times); that time also includes the off seasons.) I expected for my timing to be off a bit, my swings to be, um, girly and my throws to lack their usual zip. This happened after Noelle was born so I was okay with it. But! I returned 30 pounds lighter, I've been walking and building stamina and cardiovascular excellence, it surely wouldn't take that long to regain top form.
What I neglected to factor into all of this is that I am now 36 years old. Now, this is not old by any stretch of the imagination. HOWEVER, in the arena of competitive sports (though seriously? Are there any non-competitive ones?) this is the equivalent to Brett Favre retiring now and then coming back to football in 10 years. Which may very well indeed happen but I digress. I'm strong! I'm tough! I'm a catcher! *pounds chest* *then winces in pain because HAI BOOBS*.
First, the good news. We won both games. The first game was a total come-from-behind-at-the-bottom-of-the-seventh-inning victory. We were down 7. That? Is impressive. The even better news: I did not make a complete fool of myself batting. In fact, I only had 1 swinging strike. AND went 4-4 with 2 walks. Or maybe 5-5. Something like that. So not too shabby. Running and squatting? ENTIRELY different story.
Now when I experience sore muscles (as usual at the beginning of the season), the soreness doesn't show up until 2 days after the activity. I knew that I was in trouble last night when my shoulder started aching during warm-ups and my quads hurting the FIRST INNING OF THEFIRST GAME. I played through the discomfort. Why? I'm tough, I'm stubborn and there were no other females to sub in. My other choices would have been second base (never played it before in my life. Ain't about to start now) and outfield which is never a good idea because even with my glasses/contacts I have about zero depth perception. Which would explain my penchant for walking into walls, corners, anything really. My legs alternately felt like jello and lead. Jello when trying to stand up from the crouch and like lead when I had to run. In my mind I was sprinting but thank god no one was videotaping it since I have NO desire to see how slow my lame-ass ran last night.
Did I mention we play double headers? Oh yes! We do. And I did. I know that I was wobbling walking back to the car at the end of the game. Also: grateful that I wasn't not driving the Wrangler as the constant shifting would have reduced me to tears very quickly. I had to physically PICK UP my leg with my hands to be able to release the emergency brake as there was no way I was able to lift my leg high enough (3 inches. Max.) to step on the pedal to release it. Not without some help. Scratch that: a lot of help.
It was fun and felt good to get out there and start playing again but man am I paying for it today. And tomorrow. Quite possible through the weekend. But I know that it won't be this bad next week. And will be better the week after that.
What I could really use right now is nice, hot soaking bath and a 3 hour nap. Neither one of which I will get but it's nice to dream.