In my quest to get back into shape, I've taken up soccer again. That running thing just didn't pan out. All of my runner friends kept saying "you'll learn to love it" or "I like the meditative aspect of running" or some other crap. Meditative, my ass. Four months of running two to three miles three or four times a week, and I still hate it. But put a ball on the field, and I'll run for an hour. All I think about when I run is "why am I doing this" and "my shins hurt." The only good thing to come out of all of that was that it forced me to buy a new pair of running shoes, which are now the most comfortable pair of kicks I own. And they've even put arches back into my feet.

I appear to have lost a step or two in my old age, though. I can still sprint the length of the field (although I hurt afterward) but I can't change direction as well as I used to. What used to be some of the easier moves and fakes come with a lot of trouble these days. Hopefully some strength training will help bring the muscles back into line, but frankly, I'm doubtful.

In any case, I'm never going to be Freddy Adu, but I'm enjoying the sport. I'm not enjoying the allergies, scrapes, and sore muscles, but I guess that's the price I'm going to have to pay. I have a feeling that in a month I'll be an Advil junkie...