With age, the body aches.
My ankles aren’t what they used to be, they’re fragile now.
That’s why I stopped playing soccer, even though I’ve done it since I was a little kid.
Today I played again.
Waiting for the ball. Getting the ball. Fighting for the ball. Running for the ball. Shooting the ball. Passing the ball. Losing the ball. Winning the ball. Scoring a goal. Seeing an opponent score a goal.
I’m not sure if I’ll be able to keep playing, but I want to.
I already get enough physical activity: tennis three or four times a week, the gym three times.
Both are far kinder to my joints.
Tennis comes close to the satisfaction soccer gives me, but it’s not quite the same.
Intellectually, I know I should keep avoiding it. Emotionally, I want to play.