So the grand Ultimate experiment, busted foot and all, did not go off greatly on Tuesday. 97 degrees, for one thing, which meant my shirt was completely drenched before warmups had really even gotten going. On the plus side, that meant everything got stretched out pretty quickly, I felt nice and limber; on the minus side, missing my running schedule for the entire summer and the heat combined for a severely out-of-shape experience. So I played, and my foot held up for about 8 or 9 points, then started hurting a little, then a lot, probably maxing out at 6 on the trad 1-10 scale. This put me hobbling around the field while out of shape and overweight - I'd give myself max of about 65 percent of my normal spry self. Which meant that I just wasn't getting to discs as quickly as I'm accustomed, and on a couple of occasions guys took off deep on me and my heel would not allow for a quick fireoff - so I got burned badly. My throws were reasonable; actually, a few excellently placed hucks to Jay and Quan and a couple to Lisa which she unfortunately could not catch up to. As you can imagine, the whole thing was hella frustrating.
But that really wasn't the half of it - during the hour plus ride home, my foot stiffened up more or less to its maximum possible stiffness, so that even just lifting it slightly off the floor of the car put the strain of gravity on it, causing a very slight plantarflexion that more or less ripped the attachment out of the bone. Or that's what it felt like, anyways, gunshot stop pain that makes you stop everything on a dime. Not that I've ever been shot, but - yeah, it was that post ACL-surgery waking up as the pain meds are wearing off kinda pain, pretty high. I try not to be wussish, but I had just run around on the thing through that pain, so yeah - this was worse. Thoughts of retirement worse. It eventually chilled out once I got home and moving around, and actually was not terrible the next day - but, hmmm, that seems to be where things stand right now. SO, apparently I can play craptastic Ultimate where I can't guard anyone and then drive home in borderline screaming pain. Huzzah!
(This is the part where you all cry for me and send flowers).
(Seriously, 1-800-GET WELL. You should 1-800 get on that).
To pull us back into the realm of good perspective, remind myself that this is just Ultimate and not, you know, my source of livelihood, read about the Caucasian Wide Receivers Association of America. Ricky Proehl, especially you're Tecmo Super Bowl version, you are still my dog.
As long as I'm throwing links up into the mix to distract myself from the pain, check out the transcendent ridiculousness that is a music video by Muse. I mean, really check it, that's some pretty dope stuff, yah yah.
So, getting back to it - where does this Ultimate thing stand? It may be time to hang 'em up, at least for this season that never was. It's extraordinarily disappointing, but the crappy level at which I'm able to play is not worth the pain, long drives and gas prices. I may throw myself out there one more time, but focusing on getting the heel in reasonable repair may be the way to go at this point.
Pulling this into less of a self-pitying session and more of a this is what's up - it remains good having the Beck back. She's in anesthesia these days with The Wolf, so they are working hard an occasionally staying up all night for their troubles. So that's cool.
I spent the bulk of the week trying not to melt - record temperatures the past few, highlighted by heat index factors of 118 or so on Wednesday which, it turns out, the greater Boston are can not handle in the slightest. The dogs and I took refuge in the study with fans or the bedroom with a window AC unit. We all survived; they passed the time with frosty paws, and I passed it... drumroll...
Writing! Yeah, started a novel this week. It is so mind bogglingly terrible it defies explanation. The whole experience has been disheartening; I think I just find myself geared to short stories and bloggy type attention spans, so I write these scenes that are supposed to lay down characters and intentions and some of the big bang things in a novel, I look up and they're 3 pages long in Word in 12 point font. Damn. So, it's gonna be a long process, as I need to reorient my brain around the thing. Once I get something that I'm reasonably happy about I'll post it for general perusal, but it's been four days and nothing that I would call good has come of it, so don't hold your breath.
That's about it - Nut-trafficking this weekend, all day Sunday and into Monday, so I'll be sure to not report that monstrous pile of boredom. Until not then...
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