Whoops — Day 13; 241.6 lbs

I didn’t write anything yesterday because I didn’t go to the gym. Because…
*Heart Emojis* — Day 14; 239.6 lbs

I started playing hockey again!
I played from when I was 12 until probably 20 almost daily. It was the only sport I was any good at, and modesty aside, I was good. I studied it. Learned the secrets. Learned positioning, footwork and getting inside an opponents head.
It was that last thing that caused me to stop. I didn’t always like who I was on skates. I was tough, but kind of a punk. Hard nosed. Persistent. Temperamental. Because I wasn’t the strongest or fastest, I had to be a pest.
I started playing again in my late 20's. I just wanted to skate with my friends. I didn’t want to be a dick. But as the supposed lower level beer leagues I was playing started to get overrun by people who needed taught respect, I started to get angrier and angrier.
I took 6 years off. Didn’t really even skate. I found out there was a men’s pickup game on Sundays, so I went just to see where I was in my training.
Despite my increasing fitness, I sucked. I couldn’t keep my wind. My feet failed me a bunch. My stick work was trash. I scored an own goal.
I couldn’t stop smiling.
On the floor/ice, I have a swagger and a confidence I don’t carry all of the time. The anger wasn’t there, but the joy was. I missed teaching new guys. I missed having teammates. I missed the sound and I even missed the smell. The next day, as my bag seeped out of my trunk and into the interior of my car, I no longer missed the smell.
It was great. I’m really happy right now. I think I need hockey to feel complete. I needed it when I was at my lowest as a teen and I need it again, even if I just get hints of what I used to be. Love is love no matter how hard or rough it gets and I feel like I’d been depriving myself of one of my true loves.
It’s nice to have that feeling again.

