Once upon a time, I gave no thought to exercise and fitness. It's still not on my list of favourite things to do (sitting on the couch after the kids have gone to bed enjoying a late night coffee with the hubby is at the top of that list). However, as a responsible parent, my kids shouldn't only listen to me praise the wonderful benefits of an active lifestyle, but see me enjoying it as well. I think it's time I start practicing what I preach. So. Eeek! I joined a women's soccer league. Yes, that's right. I JOINED A WOMEN'S SOCCER LEAGUE. After all, I do watch the damn sport - I sit on the sidelines and cheer my daughter on during the summer months. I take in the occasional TFC game down at BMO Field. I sort of - kind of know what "offside" means. I can do this. I can play. Sign me up. What was I thinking? I haven't even gotten out on a field and so much as touched a soccer ball since my elementary school days. I don't know if I should kick or throw the ball in? Should I head butt it or high kick it? Even though I'm playing defense, can I score the game winning goal? So many questions, so many aspirations! No flippin answers. Not one. Zip. Ziltch. I arrive at the game feeling defeated. I can't play. I can watch. I can't play. I trudge on. I get on the field. I feel overwhelmed. The game is in play. I'm confused. My head is spinning. The ball is here - at an opponents feet. I try to kick it away. I succeed. Ha Ha. I did it. I TOUCHED the ball. I'm feeling a little more confident. I'm smiling. I'm having fun. Oh oh. Here it is again. It's in the air. I volley it away from me. Whistle blows. Penalty kick. What the #$@&*! I didn't mean to. It just kinda happened. We didn't win, but we didn't lose either. Baby steps... I'm nowhere near the MVP title, but it doesn't matter. I had a great time. I got out there and I played and in my heart, I succeeded.