Sore in strange places

I feel like the weekend, from Friday on, was a frenzy of activity, mostly related to being on the ice... and not just being on the ice, but challenging myself on the ice. I can't say I look back on it with total fondness, to be quite honest. I know it will get better, but I had a hard time falling asleep last night with the weekend running through my head. Mostly the stuff I did that I'm not exactly cheering about. Which is a lot of it. I'm way too hard on myself, but I've always kinda been the sort that, if I can't get up to speed pretty quickly and do something fairly well, then it's not worth the bother. I'm going against a lot of my personal grain in this endeavor (and even moreso with skating out).

Anyway, I obviously didn't have all my kvetching out of my system. Forgive me. I overprocess when my confidence is low. The blog takes the brunt of it (though Mr. Conduct would argue that point).

But to the subject at hand, I woke up with plenty of soreness in strange places today. I fell twice yesterday, but with all my gear on, so I shouldn't be hurting from that. Yet I really don't feel like I did anything that should have made me so sore. Maybe I underestimated what I did yesterday. Or maybe I underestimated the falls. Usually my pride is so wounded, the actual pain of the fall doesn't come to me until much later.

Seriously, if there was a way to just keep one beer in my system all the time or maybe a dash of Xanax on board, I'd let all this angst go and just be the happiest person. Alas, responsible adulthood requires sobriety most of the time. Damn.

Oh, but speaking of beer, this being beer league hockey, there is much beer and bawdy discussion in the parking lot after the game. I didn't have any because I was tired and hungry and still had to drive 25 miles home at 11:30 p.m. but I did try a sip of Amanda The Goalie's Carlsberg Pilsner (meh... too beery for my taste, but pretty easy to drink) and Scott The Canadian Goalie's Dos Equis (with lime, terrific! Where's this shit been all my life? You could almost taste the chips and queso. That's definitely my new mexican food staple. Thanks, eh!)

I suppose if the weekend results in nothing more than sore muscles and a new beer to love, I really don't have much to complain about. :)