Turning Forty

As is often the case in our household, the conversation eventually turned to sports. “Who are you playing this week Jack?” I asked my son.

“The Eagles," was his reply.

“Actually, you know what? I am thinking about playing next year myself," I announced.

“Hey, what’s so funny you guy's?” I appealed in response to the fits of laughter emanating from the dinner table.

“Darling, you have never played a game of Soccer in your life; don’t you think that it might be a bit late in the day?” Mrs. Darling giggled.“

"I will have you remember that I once played Rugby," I replied proudly.

“That was many winters ago, and what about your bad back?” she quizzed.

“That’s it, it's official, I AM going to spend the next six months getting myself into shape so that I am ready for next season," I declared.

The heckling I suffered at the hands of my family was the final ingredient required to inspire me to become twenty five years old again. The following morning as I was leaving for work, I reminded the chef of my new dietry requirements. “Don’t forget honey, I need my dinner boiled from now on”.
“You will eat what you are served," was the short reply. Good help is so hard to find these days.

I decided that I would kick a Soccer ball around the local field each night before dinner. I don’t keep a journal.However if I did, my initial training exploits would read something like this:-

Day 1
5:38 PM – Decided to be sensible and warm up those muscles that had been unemployed for so long.

5:47 PM – Limped back to the car after over-stretching my right thigh.

5:56 PM – Arrived home, applied an ice pack whilst being heckled by family members, and had two beers before my boiled chicken and vegetable dinner.

Day 2
Still limping – no workout today.

Day 3
5:35 PM – Decided to ease back on the warming up exercises, and start off with a slow jog instead. I didn’t realize just how slow I was traveling until a brown dog (pedigree unknown) commenced a relationship with my left leg.

5:51 PM – Returned to the car after a coughing fit. Is it possible to survive with only one lung?

Day 4
5:31 PM – There was a lot of people at the field today. I was keen to impress so I started my workout trying to kick the ball as far as possible.

5:44 PM – (Refer to Day 1; 5:47 PM-5.56 PM) – Except delete chicken and insert pork.

Day 5
Still limping – no workout today.

Day 6
6:04 PM - GREAT workout today, lasted thirty minutes. I really pushed myself hard and got a good sweat up – feeling GOOD!

Day 7
6:45 AM – No longer feeling good! I am walking like someone who just criticized Harley Davidson motor cycles at a Hells Angels party. I doubt whether even that brown dog would find me attractive at the moment. How is it possible for the hairs on your legs to be sore?

The reason for my sudden aches and pains was obvious. My limbs and their influential muscle friends had conspired against me and formed a coalition of the willing whilst I slept. You see, they were never comfortable with the new arrangement. They wanted to return to the good old days when they were blissfully unemployed.

After briefly considering amputation as a retaliatory measure, I received a message from the C.E.O. of the organization; (A.K.A. – brain). I was reminded by the C.E.O. that we were still in complete control of ALL departments, and that as employees, the limbs would simply have to toe the line or else. (I guess that’s why it is the C.E.O.)

A couple of month’s have since passed, and I am pleased to announce that I am still exercising, and getting fitter by the week. I do believe however, that I am now doing it for the right reasons. My protesting limbs taught me a valuable lesson; you only get to be twenty five once. It is time for me to accept that whilst I may still think like a twenty five year old, I am in reality about to turn forty. I still intend to give the over thirty five Soccer competition a real good shake though.