I got a lot done today, my last day of freedom before starting the summer job tomorrow. Slept in, went for a run, worked on the lawn furniture rehab project, finished up a rocket, put up a rabbit fence around one of the garden beds, had a late lunch with Catherine on campus. The most significant thing I did today, though, was play hockey. This was the first day of summer hockey, and I decided to give it a try.

I had totally forgotten how much crap it takes to play the game. No wonder my feet always hurt, my hockey bag adds 100 lbs. to my body weight. It took forever to get everything put together this evening (I didn't even know where my hockey bag was--how do you misplace a bag the size of a coffin, I'd like to know). Wrist brace, ankle brace, knee brace (at least, I picked it up once, it didn't actually make it into my bag). Neck protector, pelvic protector, mouth guard (which I even washed). Hockey tights, sports bra, regular socks, hockey socks, snug-fitting t-shirt. Knee pads, chest protector, elbow pads, gloves, helmet. Dark jersey, light jersey. The glasses I wear so I don't break my good ones. White tape for my feet and wrist, clear tape for my socks, black tape for my stick. Towel for wiping down my skates. Miscellaneous personal hygiene items (for afterward, there is no hygiene in hockey). Oh, an a stick, which I almost forgot.

Well, the whole thing was pretty surreal. For one thing, Pan Am had trouble finishing up the ice on the American Rink, so they had two sessions scheduled and only one rink available for use. We ended up sharing the Olympic Rink with the men's pickup hockey session, which definitely wasn't ideal. Of all male athletes, hockey players are probably the worst. I know I have a lot of frustration built up in the back of my head, it's been a long week, but I think I let a lot of it out when I finally yelled at a guy on the opposite team, "Do you think you could just stop being such an asshole?" Unfortunately, I don't think he heard me, and one of the guys on my team thought I was yelling at him, but since I was generally annoyed with all of them, I didn't bother to correct his misimpression.

But the really weird part was the locker room. I looked around and realized that most of the women there had either been kicked off or left the Sirens because of disagreements with the team. Gosh, when did I become a rebel? I've always been the good kid, played by the rules. And suddenly I find myself skating with the untouchables. I tried to keep my head down and only spoke when spoken to--in other words, acted more like myself, and less like JR--but I couldn't help hearing some of the team gossip. It sounds like the whole act went up in flames before the end of the season, and I'm glad I missed the drama. I have enough mini-crises in my life, I don't need to go looking for anymore.

Anyway, my hip flexor feels as if I'd just spent seven days at hockey camp, so I have to do something about that. Other than that, being on the ice was okay. No injuries, no major incidents, just regular old hockey.