Sip and Strum

In the last 48 hours, I've had two quintessential Decade of She

experiences: playing in a soccer game and my first guitar lesson.  I never imagined doing either of these activities at this point in my life, and quite frankly, I'm not sure my body did either.  In fact, there are certain parts of my body that are quite pissed off at me right now.  I've been trying to reason with these parts, but they will have none of it.  The only thing we seem to agree on is Advil.

Now the soccer is not really new.  I started playing soccer last year for no other reason than no other reason.  Follow me?  It just sounded like fun.  And unlike last year, I'm now actually making contact with the ball (versus kicking the air around it) and I've lost the urge to pick it up when it's in front of me.  World Cup, here I come.   

On Sunday, our team of SHEs played another team of SHEs in what was a friendly, yet competitive game.  We all burned 300-400 calories, we bonded with our fellow amateur soccer players, and everyone had a blast with the exception of one itty bitty incident...one player leveled another player resulting in the stricken player hobbling off the field.  And of course, because irony doesn't miss an opportunity, I'm the one that leveled the other player.  

This is ironic for several reasons.  First off, I have dedicated most of my life to the study and communication of nutrition because I feel strongly about helping others live longer, healthier lives.  Causing someone to fall during a friendly game of mom's really pathetic soccer is just a TAD inconsistent with my life M.O.  Second, and this is why I'm getting an ulcer, I sent an e-mail to the other team from my high horse before the game, urging them to keep it friendly and fair in order to minimize injuries on the field!  And then there's one foul during the game and I caused it!  

I've replayed "the incident" in my head several times...I did not stumble or fall and don't even remember feeling the impact...which leads me to believe that this whole thing was caused by someone up above (or down below), seizing the opportunity for irony, and through some sort of cosmic soccer spirit, willing that poor mom to crumble on the grass leaving me standing there looking like a big, tall A$$hole.  That, or it's because I don't really know how to play soccer.  One of those two things for sure. 

This is why I'm now throwing myself into a completely different, no-physical contact hobbie....the "Sip and Strum"....aka, playing guitar while sipping wine.  I'm already quite skilled in the sipping part, so should be no problem to pick up the other half.  Last night at my first lesson, I was channeling my inner Madonna...who I believe also picked up the guitar later in her life.  Heck, I'm just like her minus the pseudo-British accent, talent, money, and adopted African baby.  And much like Madge, I didn't mame, injure, or impress anyone with my guitar playing.  

Based on last night, if I sip and strum every day, I should be ready to tour by 2030...tentative band name...Soccer Bitch.