Humility, admixted with fear (and just a little excitement) or,
Edit, circa 2030 hours. Turns out the correction was an error and we are, in fact, starting on June 5th, as originally advertised. Which is just as well, considering how my gluteous maximi (or whatever those bum muscles are called) are feeling just at the moment.
Maybe Young Geoffrey ain't, quite, anymore
Have I mentioned that I've signed up with a rec league to play soccer this summer ("football" to the lesser folk non-North Americans among you Gentle Readers)?
Of course I haven't; my experiment at being a tell-all, personal blogger sort of came to a halt during my prolonged emotional slide during my final months in Toronto.
Well, I don't promise a return to the days of narcissistic self-examination, nor of reports on the counting of my chest hairs or sex life, but I do kind of miss the random, more or less, stream-of-conscious postings that once characterized a big part of my online activities.
So, maybe, this is a return to that world, at least in part.
I digress.
Yes, I've signed up for soccer. Thought it was going to start in early June and was determined to start doing a little bit of running to prepare for it.
Tuesday, I went out and, yes, ran a little. A very little.
Holy shit, dudes! I might be - I rather suspect I am - in better shape than most western men my age, but regular walking, occasional cycling and a couple of hundred reps a day on some kind exercise machine (did I mention that Raven and I found an exercise machine that someone had tossed last fall? Oh wait, of course I hadn't - anyway, we did, I dragged it home, I've actually been making use of it) do not an athlete make.
Gentle Readers, Tuesday's run - which was in fact an admixture of jogging, running and, er, well, walking left me in know doubt that I needed to work hard over the next three or so weeks if I was to acquit myself without utter humiliation on the football pitch.
Flash-forward to yesterday (that's right, Wednesday) and I get an email saying the season starts, er, on Sunday.
Colour me scared shitless.
Went for another, longer, jog/run/walk this morning and, this morning, still look forward with at least a bit of dread to Sunday's opening game.
But what the hell. I also look forward to it with a lot of anticipation. If I don't drop dead on the field, I'll tell you all about it.
Also, I'm really going to try to find something political or media-related that isn't a bucketful of negativity. I'm getting a little tired of my own, carping, ways.
This entry was originally posted at http://ed-rex.dreamwidth.org/220030.html. Comment there using OpenID, or here as per normal.
Maybe Young Geoffrey ain't, quite, anymore
Have I mentioned that I've signed up with a rec league to play soccer this summer ("football" to the lesser folk non-North Americans among you Gentle Readers)?
Of course I haven't; my experiment at being a tell-all, personal blogger sort of came to a halt during my prolonged emotional slide during my final months in Toronto.
Well, I don't promise a return to the days of narcissistic self-examination, nor of reports on the counting of my chest hairs or sex life, but I do kind of miss the random, more or less, stream-of-conscious postings that once characterized a big part of my online activities.
So, maybe, this is a return to that world, at least in part.
I digress.
Yes, I've signed up for soccer. Thought it was going to start in early June and was determined to start doing a little bit of running to prepare for it.
Tuesday, I went out and, yes, ran a little. A very little.
Holy shit, dudes! I might be - I rather suspect I am - in better shape than most western men my age, but regular walking, occasional cycling and a couple of hundred reps a day on some kind exercise machine (did I mention that Raven and I found an exercise machine that someone had tossed last fall? Oh wait, of course I hadn't - anyway, we did, I dragged it home, I've actually been making use of it) do not an athlete make.
Gentle Readers, Tuesday's run - which was in fact an admixture of jogging, running and, er, well, walking left me in know doubt that I needed to work hard over the next three or so weeks if I was to acquit myself without utter humiliation on the football pitch.
Flash-forward to yesterday (that's right, Wednesday) and I get an email saying the season starts, er, on Sunday.
Colour me scared shitless.
Went for another, longer, jog/run/walk this morning and, this morning, still look forward with at least a bit of dread to Sunday's opening game.
But what the hell. I also look forward to it with a lot of anticipation. If I don't drop dead on the field, I'll tell you all about it.
Also, I'm really going to try to find something political or media-related that isn't a bucketful of negativity. I'm getting a little tired of my own, carping, ways.
This entry was originally posted at http://ed-rex.dreamwidth.org/220030.html. Comment there using OpenID, or here as per normal.