It's been too long since I've posted. I'm "behind" now. No use catching up. The Weekend Warrior has been at it again!
Definition of the Weekend Warrior;
"The middle-aged athlete that thinks she can go out and play as hard as she used to. The unconditioned athlete that thinks she can go out just every once in a while and push it to the limit."
It was one week before our departure from Jordan, two days before Kirk's return to Jordan from the US, and the last Saturday in Amman for the students to play football.
I had no intention of playing this time. I had nearly learned my lesson the week before. I had been mistaken for a hefty linesman and was thrown to the ground. These are some tough boys. I was going this time only because I wanted to play with Locke and talk to Tasha. What could I do though, when Tasha needed a sub? I would just go in for one series. I lined up as a receiver and went long. Surprisingly my defender was nowhere in sight. Either I had totally outmaneuvered him, or he didn't think I was worth the effort and was taking a personal time-out. Quarter-back Tom (better than Steve Young) saw that I was open and threw deep into the end zone. Perfect pass. Perfect timing. Right into my outstretched arms. One second I was catching the ball, seriously, had my hands on the pigskin, and the next thing I knew I was flat on my back. How embarrassing. No one was around to blame it on. No one pushed me or got in the way. No pass interference, I just fell. Hard. Trying to avoid the spotlight I hurriedly got up but knew my tailbone was not okay.
I'll spare you the rest of the sordid details. But it's too late to spare Tasha those. She's not only the mother of Locke, my grandson away from grandsons, she's the Program Nurse. Even more than the program nurse, she's my friend and confidant. She kept me as sane as I am on those long days Kirk was back home. She was by my side the next four days visiting ERs, supporting me as I refused admission, left the hospital with me "AMA" (against medical advice), and journeyed with me to labs, radiologists, urologists, and a rheumatologist, (and him only 'cuz he's a friend of a friend). After test results came back, I was given the go ahead to travel. We packed the next morning and hobbled to the border.
Back in January I tore my calf muscle. Actually, the term is a rupture of gastrocnemius and soleus muscles.
Both muscles in my calf tore pretty bad while I was playing tennis.
I’d like to say I was jumping over the net or leaping to save an impossible hit. But I was really just minding my own business when out of nowhere it felt like someone with a bat came and knocked me upside the back of my leg. I tripped and turned to see who it was, and no one was there.
I couldn’t put weight on it, at all….
I was in a boot cast for 6 weeks, the first four were non weight bearing. Miserable and depressing.
This injury is dubbed “Tennis Leg”. Here it is again...
"It’s most often seen in the “middle aged” athlete. The Weekend Warrior. The older athlete that thinks she can go out and play as hard as she used to. The unconditioned athlete that thinks she can go out just every once in a while and push it to the limit."
When I think about the weekend warrior, it scares me. If I compare my physical muscles, my strength and condition, with those that are spiritual, how do I measure up?
I wondered about my spiritual strength. Am I a weekend warrior? Thinking I will have the strength and endurance when I don’t put the effort into the daily conditioning?
It didn’t matter how hard I tried that day to stand on my leg, I couldn’t. It wasn’t possible. I think, “oh I’m just gonna buck up here. Sheer willpower can keep me on my leg”…but there was no way. If our spiritual muscles are that weak, we won’t be able to stand up to the battles we have to face everyday.
I’m learning, slowly, that you can’t run faster than you have strength.
These past two weeks have been amazing. We have traveled from Jordan to Israel. We've climbed Masada (well, we rode a tram up the mountain), had lunch in Jericho, and went to bed in a convent in Nazareth.
We went to Akko, saw new Excavations and walked through a prison.
We visited Haifa where the Bahai Promenande Gardens are, and went to the beach.
We have sung amazingly beautiful hymns in churches all over Nazareth and Galilee. We hiked Banyas to a waterfall, ate lunch in a Druze restaurant and saw the Golan Heights. Ceasaria, Megiddo, and ate falafils at a Kibbutz.
We watched the Jewish Sabbath arrive as the sun set at the Western Wall.
We've seen the roads in the Old City that show the Via Dolorosa, we've walked those streets. Garden of Gethsemane, and the Garden Tomb of course. And sacrament meeting in the chapel at the Jerusalem Center. A group of students and faculty loaded with musical talent singing together is probably my favorite thing of all. We have gathered nearly nightly to sing Christmas songs by candle light.
I have stories to tell from so many of these experiences, and even more pictures than stories. We have been on the road a lot, and not a whole lot of Internet access. But I am gathering photos and thoughts and will post them as soon as I can.
The other injuries and setbacks I've had since January are numerous, and I'm just gonna say that this weekend warrior is waning. In fact, she's becoming the
the weather has been awful cold in Jordan, we've tried everything we could think of to warm up. From water bottles, hot chocolate, space heaters, scarves, blow dryers and yes, even irons....