Cleats

Dug these out of the deep dark depths of my closet yesterday. Removed layers of dust. Seriously. The last time I wore them was, oh, pre-Maddie, I believe. When I used to be an athlete. When I played in an ultimate frisbee league with Jack.

And then, you know, kids happened. AKA, stop taking care of self.

But that has changed. Jack and I are in an Ultimate League this fall. We've technically had 2 weeks of games but our team had a bye the first week and then last week we were rained out. This weekend I'm out of town {singing the Hallelujah Chorus at the TIPPY-TOP of my lungs right now - not because I'm missing frisbee but because I'll be away from responsibility}...

My goal this year, when I began losing weight, was to once again play on a team with Jack.

I'm nervous. {I'm not 21 anymore, nor can I run like a 21-year-old}

I'm excited. {I was an athlete and I am STILL an athlete. Just a rusty one is all. It'll feel good to get out there and compete. Can't really compete in the carpool or grocery store lines.}

I might just post some pictures in the coming weeks to show my kids that yes, Mama does play sports. Depends on if the pictures make me look skinny. {Vain, I know, but I have standards people.}

And I have to say, we found the perfect field last night to play catch. Huge. Lush grass. Flat. Felt good to just sprint like a crazy woman and actually catch the disk. And a few times Jack yelled, "Wow!! Great catch!" {In other words, it didn't seem that I was gonna catch it, but I somehow did.} That felt good to impress my man.


Here's to leaving those young chicks in the dust next weekend. They might be faster, but I'll be smarter. Or so I'd like to think.

And I'll have 2 little cheerleaders on the sidelines screaming for Mommy. That's gotta feel great. I guess I'll soon find out.