Sure enough, the night before my game, I felt the scratchy throat forming, and by the next morning, I was full blown sick. Total bummer. It wasn’t the bedridden sort of malaise, but I just didn’t feel my invincible self, especially when it comes to playing hockey. I toyed with the idea of skipping the game and just resting, but then I’d have to wait another week before I got to play again, and that would have been too much of a bummer. So I went for it.
It wasn’t so bad. Once I got on the ice, you’re just ready to rock and roll, so you don’t notice a little pain and suffering. I’ve experienced this before with injuries. Sure, my stamina wasn’t what it usually is, which isn’t much to begin with, but I survived. I even scored a goal, if you can believe that.
Before I became a father, I used to wallow in self pity whenever I got so much as a head cold. Now that I’m a father, I’ve gotten much better, out of necessity, at sucking it up and just dealing with it. Sure, I’ll whine a little, but old habits die hard. When you’re a parent, you just don’t have the luxury of self absorption, the kind I see in some of my friends who don’t have kids.
Then again, with greater challenge comes greater reward, right?
Until the next time, thanks for reading, and thanks to TacoCruz for the pic.