Monday, September 21, 2009

Where did that muscle come from?

I spent the weekend at a camp in Maryland for a church retreat and had tons of fun not showering, smoking out the mosquitoes, getting sunburned on half my face while taking a nap. No really, all of those things actually were fun. Singing around the campfire, roughing it (as much as this city girl will anyway), playing games and spending time with some great people.

There is a baseball diamond at the camp, so I brought along my glove (I'm left-handed and play infield, so I always have to have my own glove). I was excited to find out a couple other people all totally into baseball and was looking forward to participating in a pick-up game or two. That is, until I found out who I would be playing with:

1. A guy in decent shape who played ball in high school
2. Another guy who coached his company team to a league championship this summer
3. An all-state fast-pitch catcher from Texas who throws like a pro
4. A guy who's being scouted by Denver because of his 93 mph fast-ball

Yeah, way out of my league. Not only am I totally out of shape, but I also (a) haven't played a full game for almost six years, (b) was in a roll-over car accident five years ago that messed up my rotator cuffs, (c) haven't played on a regular team for more than 10 years and (d) wasn't that great to begin with.

So we just tossed around the ball for a couple hours to get back into practice, but mostly I think they were just taking pity on me and didn't want me to embarrass myself by picking up a bat. And now both my arms hurt, my shoulders are stiff, my hand is bruised and I think I pulled a muscle in my thigh.

Conclusion: I make a much better bleacher bum than wannabe player.

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