Back on the mat

Well, roughly a zillion shots and blood drawings down (with at least two still to go) in order to prove that I'm not about to drop dead or make someone I breath on drop dead, I'm back to helping out the local high school's wrestling squad. Tougher restrictions on coaches have necessitated physicals, background checks, reference checks, and more in order to help with a high school sports team. I should have just applied to the NSA in order to get access to their workout facilities -- it would have been easier to get approved! This is a lot of hastle to stay in shape and help some kids learn a sport.

But anyhow, the doctor vampires have taken my blood and replaced it with whatever they stick in vaccinations, and practice started up last week. I suspect I'm going to have to keep telling myself for the next many practices what I did last week: "Twenty-nine is not old, no matter how you feel."

Actually, I felt pretty good -- a little soreness in the usual places, things that it's tough to really work out without actually wrestling or having access to a good workout facility of some sort. But I wasn't on the mat all that long, and it wasn't that bad. I've been jogging this summer carrying weights (I'm up to five pounds in each hand now), and although that's murder on the old knees and elbows, I'm probably in better shape than any time since back when I was wrestling steadily in Staten Island against tough guys. Either the scales are being kind (I really do wonder about the accuracy of that cheap set we've got), or all those blazing-hot-afternoon jogs with weights and one-arm pushups worked in have actually knocked off the offending five pounds I've been carrying for the last year.

So now I get to go back in there once a week for the time being and try to stay ahead of those high school kids who are just longing for a chance to take down Coach Dan. One of them managed it once last year. We'll see if he can do it again.