Getting Old

Ultimate was somewhat less than fun. We play on a field that hadn't really been mowed or taken care of in a while. So the grass was long and, more importantly, patchy. And the field has ruts and divets in it.

As a result of this and my choice of sneakers with poor ankle support, I managed to hurt both my ankles within the span of the first 15 minutes of the game. The first one was minor and so I kept playing. The second one was worse, but I still kept playing and managed to pull in a score for our team. In the end though I could feel the bad one start to swell. I knew that it was time to call it quits, go home, get my weight off them, and ice them. So I did.

I bought an ankle brace for the bad one this morning and I'm hobbling around ok. I'm taking advil and eating lots of pineapple (a natural anti-inflamatory). I'll probably take off work early too.

Amy was also feeling emotionally old last night. Next door neighbors have been listening to loud music that goes right through her paper thin walls. More importantly though, people are making a lot of noise right outside her apartment. Talking on phones and the like. Amy was stiffling a strong urge to run out there, yell, and shake her fist in their general direction.

Well at least we're moving into fogeyhood together. I've got the bad ankles old man walk down and she can yell at those meddling kids and their dog. I can't imagine how old I'll feel when I'm actually 30.