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The longer I neglect my journal, the harder it is to resume writing. My brain creates a situational writer's block: I haven't written; therefore, I can't write. Duh.
When we last saw our heroine, she had six stitches in her chin from falling off her skates and whacking her face on the ice. I'm happy to report that the cut has healed beautifully and freed me to pursue other injuries. In that spirit, I sprained my right wrist last week, reaffirming that ice doesn't give much when you land on it. I need to get past my habit of breaking falls with my hands, rather than with my eminently more suitable ass.
On the cheery side, I've started to get my backward crossovers (WMV video link). Started is perhaps the operative word here. They're not pretty, but I'm happy anyway. I spent about an hour on Saturday working on crossovers, then came home and wrapped both ankles in ice packs. What a drag it is getting old.
The Bruins and the New Jersey Devils had a preseason scrimmage yesterday at Tsongas Arena in Lowell, about forty-five minutes north of Boston. It was a split-squad game with lots of little-known players, but major hockey in a minor hockey arena is fun by definition. My friend Seatmate and I arrived early enough to watch the teams warm up. New Bruin Mark Mowers (now wearing #18) impressed the heck out of me with his hustle and his mad skating skillz. I hope he's impressed the Bruins honchos enough to get some ice time once the big names come back.
No baseball tonight; the Sox have the day off. Yes, I'm still watching. We're not going to the playoffs, but it'll be a long winter without baseball, so I'll watch it while I can. And then? Hockey season.
When we last saw our heroine, she had six stitches in her chin from falling off her skates and whacking her face on the ice. I'm happy to report that the cut has healed beautifully and freed me to pursue other injuries. In that spirit, I sprained my right wrist last week, reaffirming that ice doesn't give much when you land on it. I need to get past my habit of breaking falls with my hands, rather than with my eminently more suitable ass.
On the cheery side, I've started to get my backward crossovers (WMV video link). Started is perhaps the operative word here. They're not pretty, but I'm happy anyway. I spent about an hour on Saturday working on crossovers, then came home and wrapped both ankles in ice packs. What a drag it is getting old.
The Bruins and the New Jersey Devils had a preseason scrimmage yesterday at Tsongas Arena in Lowell, about forty-five minutes north of Boston. It was a split-squad game with lots of little-known players, but major hockey in a minor hockey arena is fun by definition. My friend Seatmate and I arrived early enough to watch the teams warm up. New Bruin Mark Mowers (now wearing #18) impressed the heck out of me with his hustle and his mad skating skillz. I hope he's impressed the Bruins honchos enough to get some ice time once the big names come back.
No baseball tonight; the Sox have the day off. Yes, I'm still watching. We're not going to the playoffs, but it'll be a long winter without baseball, so I'll watch it while I can. And then? Hockey season.
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