Given my lackluster attention to physical fitness lately, I’ve surprised myself with a few of the feats I've pulled off recently – the 45-mile bike ride, the five-mile run. But I think my most unexpected accomplishment may have come this morning, when I managed to hoist my ass out of bed.
Why?
Sunday, I pitched 11 innings in a marathon three-hour softball game. Given my history of shoulder problems, I didn't think that was physically possible anymore, but apparently it is. I gave up 18 runs, but fortunately the Sandman gave up 23. In our combined defense, a very low percentage of the 41 runs scored were earned.
Anyway, I returned home from that exhausted and limping. It probably wasn't the best way to rest up for Monday, but what the hell. I had a great time.
Yesterday, the alarm sounded at 5 a.m., and my day ended at 12:03 a.m. The 19 hours and three minutes in between were, quite frankly, mayhem. My dad and a few friends showed up throughout the day and their first words were almost always the same: "This is insane."
My main mission was to help keep a crowd of thousands out of the way of six people. Easier said than done. In doing so, I walked 13,691 yards, which translates to 41,073 feet, or 7.7 miles. My feet are well aware of how far this was, particularly since it was over hilly, uneven terrain. Despite the fact that they were iced immediately at the conclusion of the day, my feet are no longer speaking to me.
That said, it wasn't an awful day. In fact, it was at times quite exciting. To have a front-row seat as someone tries to make history is pretty cool. Most of the major newspapers in the country sent writers and even they seemed jazzed, which is unusual for my typically cynical media friends. For a good portion of the day, I thought she might actually do it. Ultimately, she fell short, but that doesn't detract from the excitement. Years from now, I'll look back and be really glad I was there.
Sadly, by the time I got home, I was too exhausted to enjoy a big wine fiesta. I settled for a huge bowl of Apple Jacks. Nothing like a big bowl of cinnamon-toasted goodness to end a long day.
Why?
Sunday, I pitched 11 innings in a marathon three-hour softball game. Given my history of shoulder problems, I didn't think that was physically possible anymore, but apparently it is. I gave up 18 runs, but fortunately the Sandman gave up 23. In our combined defense, a very low percentage of the 41 runs scored were earned.
Anyway, I returned home from that exhausted and limping. It probably wasn't the best way to rest up for Monday, but what the hell. I had a great time.
Yesterday, the alarm sounded at 5 a.m., and my day ended at 12:03 a.m. The 19 hours and three minutes in between were, quite frankly, mayhem. My dad and a few friends showed up throughout the day and their first words were almost always the same: "This is insane."
My main mission was to help keep a crowd of thousands out of the way of six people. Easier said than done. In doing so, I walked 13,691 yards, which translates to 41,073 feet, or 7.7 miles. My feet are well aware of how far this was, particularly since it was over hilly, uneven terrain. Despite the fact that they were iced immediately at the conclusion of the day, my feet are no longer speaking to me.
That said, it wasn't an awful day. In fact, it was at times quite exciting. To have a front-row seat as someone tries to make history is pretty cool. Most of the major newspapers in the country sent writers and even they seemed jazzed, which is unusual for my typically cynical media friends. For a good portion of the day, I thought she might actually do it. Ultimately, she fell short, but that doesn't detract from the excitement. Years from now, I'll look back and be really glad I was there.
Sadly, by the time I got home, I was too exhausted to enjoy a big wine fiesta. I settled for a huge bowl of Apple Jacks. Nothing like a big bowl of cinnamon-toasted goodness to end a long day.
posted by jersey girl @ 5:46 PM
4 Comments:
At 6/06/2006 11:52 PM,
Todd Cohen said…
Here's a quote that I'm sure you're not thrilled to read...
``Most definitely," she said. ``I'm not gonna quit after this. I don't see the point in that."
You're destroying the legs of a chick in her mid 30s! There's a point for ya!
Whore.
(OK...maybe that's a tad harsh)
At 6/07/2006 2:43 AM,
SJPSandman said…
1. Local Shill: Todd tried calling you Sunday, but I guess you slept in.
General rule: If it isn't actually raining, game on. We have ways of getting the field in playing shape, make that read, "Sam has a Home Depot that sells sand near his hut"
If you have doubts about the game, call me.
With Mark Lava and friends back from their Israel jaunt, plus the addition of a couple of more regulars I've recruited, we should be good for a game most weeks the rest of the summer.
2. Michelle Wei wears combat boots.
3. As for my pitching line, Jersey Girl, yeah, I don't think you out-dueled me, I think your defense booted less balls than mine did... so to speak.
Oh, and I will take your ass deep next time we face off.
At 6/07/2006 9:40 PM,
Bich said…
Ah, Sandman. Now ass and deep in the same line is much riper than ass and mother. Don't ya think?
PS: Defending your pitching performance with an ERA like yours better involve the phrase Jason Grimsley.
At 6/08/2006 2:19 AM,
Joependleton said…
Apple jacks underrated.
Post a Comment
<< Home