Infinite levels of crapola
Three weeks before Sectionals, so part of me should be infinitely careful woth my physical well being. Three (two?) sectionals in a row with injuries, and you'd think I'd be more cautious with my muscles and joints.
But no.
Second drill, having felt very good through the warmups, and the first drill, second run, where we were practicing the give and go, the going on the mark after a throw, which I athink I'm actually good at, and *zing* pulled right quad.
At least it wasn't the left leg, as every other injury aeems to be. It's still an injury, though.
I'm frustrated. I cried.
I'm tired of sucking at this game. I'm tired of working my ass off and being injured. I'm tired of every telling me everything I'm doing wrong. I'm tired of not being quick, or skilled, or useful.
I'm tired of playing an entire game without once touching the disc.
I should have retired two years ago when the sport broke my heart. I wish I'd had the strength and wisdom then to leave, instead of torturing myself with self-doubt and self-frustration.
At least now Kris agrees this will be our last year at elite. I wonder if we'll keep playing at some other level.