Not So Fast

I returned to the court today, much more Festus than Willis Reed. I dragged my sore leg around to a 1-2, to finish the year at 38-46. The sore leg was all consuming and demanded my complete focus, although I wasn't distracted enough to make, rather than miss, lay-ups. I was unable to defend, or move at all really.

Although when I stopped playing, and apologized to all for my horseshit play, the reaction was something like, "looked like your regular game."

A couple of positive notes, however:

1. There is always next year, which starts, in this case, tomorrow (although I won't try to play again until next week, at the earliest).

2. I am much better off than Arun Sandhukha.

No More Excuses

Time to get back on the court. My leg is much better, and I've had a number of quality indoor rowing session. Last night I tested it (my sore right leg) with a full body kettlebell session. Full body includes squats and lunges, and the leg feels good this morning. It is, after all, a leg injury, not a ripped scrotum, like this poor bastard, or a busted testicle.


Time to get after it! Just need a little testicular fortitude.

Keeping the Doctor Away

10K a day keeps the doctor away. Maybe. With my leg on the mend I've turned to my old friend the Concept II rowing machine for non-weight bearing exercise. I've "rowed" 10K each of the past two days, 2 X 5K yesterday, and a straight 10K today.

This regime will keep me fit. The problem is that I've started to think about competing: grueling 2K races that require nasty interval training. I need to talk myself out of this idea before I talk myself into it.

A Setback

Minor, I hope: during the game Saturday (2-1, now 37-44) the side of my knee collided with the knee-cap of a geezer moving at full speed. Instant debilitating pain. It still hurts and limits my mobility (it is Monday morning). The good news is that I was able to row this morning so I can maintain fitness until I can get back on the court. I'll try a kettlebell workout tomorrow, and I haven't completely written off this coming Saturday's game, although I'll need a lot of improvement (like being able to walk normally) before I'll attempt it. I thought I was much better by yesterday evening but upon furthher review I now think my temporary feeling of wellbeing was related to the 6-pack of Torpedo Extra IPA I drank while watching the football game.

I am feeling much better than Kim Jong Il, who passed during the night. The fashion world will suffer but there should be no impact to basketball.

Improving Fitness

A shortage of geezers yesterday (Thursday) morning resulted in me jumping in the fullcourt game. After two trips up the court I was stunned by just how long the court is. I started daydreaming about golf, the sport 56 year old fat dudes are supposed to be playing (check out the photo of pro golfer John Daly working out). It went okay, though, after the initial shock. I was 2-1, and I was somewhere in the middle of the pack in terms of my ability to contribute to my team.

I'm going to pencil in the Thursday morning fullcourt run as a regular weekly event. It will help improve my overall fitness level, and it is fun. I assume that my body will adjust to the additional running (versus the halfcourt game) if I make it a regular thing. My feet should recover just in time for the Saturday morning game, and the rest of my body is fine.

I'm on a 12 day in a row workout streak, with this morning's full body kettlebell workout (with push-ups and pull-ups) in the bank. I need to keep it going. Next day off is Christmas day!

I'm enjoying the workout variety: basketball; kettlebell; and the rowing machine are all in the mix.

Desperate Measures

In an effort to satisfy my body and my soul, in my pursuit of basketball mediocrity, I got my Canadian beer fix by reaching for, then quaffing, the end of the world (La Fin du Monde), if my bad french comprehension is correct.

And to fix my constantly ailing feet, a recent meal included chicken feet. Upon reflection, sore feet aren't such a bad thing, given the remedy.

The Canadian beer, by contrast, was delicious. A Belgian style tripel that is bitter and sweet, spicy and just right.

And best of all, the world was still here when I woke up this morning.

Jonesing

Canadian beer, eh. Tomorrow night (I'm on my monday hiatus). Or at least before the end of the world.