Another week, another beating

Stankonia: Part II. Softball is clearly going to be the end of me. I will say that although we did lose both games in our double header this week, at least there was one point in game two that we took the lead. And we had multiple runners on base in both games. These are both MAJOR achievements.

While I would like to just sit back and enjoy these major milestones, unfortunately I can't move. I got assigned the role of pitcher for some reason and while I can't say if the position is correlated to all the injuries, I know that some of them are definitely connected. I:

1. Got hit in the shin with a ball the catcher (Kristin) threw back to me.
2. Got hit in the knee by a ball someone at third threw back at me in the dirt. I have the softball stitching marks in my knee to prove it.
3. Pulled my groin muscle (I think?)
4. Pulled all my butt, thigh and hip muscles -whatever you call them.
5. Slid in to second and cut up my left calf and my upper left thigh/ buttocks.

I know Travis got great enjoyment out of the fact that I couldn't walk after hiking Y mountain. If he saw me know he would never have to find another reason to laugh for the rest of his life. I can't walk. I can't even sleep, because every movement wakes me up in pain. I am completely and utterly broken, and I have no idea why, but I am forced to admit it may have something to do with my age. No matter how well I wear it. And the fact that a 20 year old kid at the game tried to ask me out three times to the new Batman movie (much to Kristin's enjoyment as she watched me squirm) should prove that. Thank you Oil of Olay. And thank you little-boy child for making a woman who could have given birth to you feel OK even as she lay immobilized by her aching, elderly bones.