A tomboy no more...sniff

Now normally I would be happy not to have that moniker, "tomboy," labeled on me. I lived with it for years growing up and I couldn't wait until I became a college girl and no longer felt the need to play sports because, you know, I was a college girl and no longer needed that kid stuff. As a child, I played softball, soccer, kickball, dodgeball, and just about any other type of sport you can imagne, but basketball was by far my main sport. I played from elementary school all the way through my high school years and for most of my adolescence, people knew me as that girl who plays ball.

Well, lately, I guess I've been missing those days. This past spring I started making moves to join a softball team. I bought all kinds of softball equipment (the glove, the balls, and the cleats). I also bought a knee brace because several years ago I tore my ACL (anterior cruceate ligament) and cartilage while playing basketball and it's never been right since. Anyway, I thought I would be able to play but after one visit to the batting cages, my knee swelled up to about the size of a grapefruit and forced me to accept that softball wasn't in my future.

So, a month or so goes by, it's Derrick's birthday and I buy a bike for him, because he wants he, Jamal, and I to start going bike riding together. (Sweet right? Humph!) Now, first let me give you a little background about me. It's been almost 17 years since I regularly sat my behind on a bike. My current behind is about twice the size it was 17 years ago. I bought my bike about 7 years ago when I thought I'd get back into bike riding but it's probably seen about 6 or so outings in total. Sad I know. Anyway, I knew this bike riding thing was going to be a challenge for me, but I wanted to be a good sport for my two guys, so instead of saying no, I accepted the challenge. Hey it could be fun.

Ok, well Derrick, Jamal, and I go for our bike ride and I notice immediately that I'm way more out of shape than I ever thought I could be. I soon discover that any type of incline (even a baby-sized incline) is torture...T-O-R-T-U-R-E!!! I am barely out of my neighborhood before I want to go back home and sit down. It was a big wake up call. I'm fat, out of shape, and at 35 if I don't do something to change this I'll be in worse shape later. So my first day on a bike in eons was a complete bust, but I decide that it won't be my last time on that bike.

Now fast forward to today. Derrick asks me if I want to go bike riding. I say yes with enthusiasm ('cause I'm a glutton for punishment). Shortly after breakfast we take out the bikes and start our ride. I make it up one incline (whew, so far so good). I make it up two inclines (wow!). Then we decide to go completely out of the neighborhood and ride up the street. It's hard work but I'm doing it. However, by the time we get a good distance up the road, I'm so winded and spent that the ride is no longer fun and I tell Derrick that it's time to turn back. As we head back we approach an overpass that has a walk way with a concrete barrier on one side to protect pedestrians from oncoming traffic. For some reason, I decide that this will be a perfect place for us to ride our bikes. WRONG!!! While riding a little too fast on the walk way I make the mistake of looking at the rushing traffic below me. The movement of the cars going one way while I'm moving in another direction makes me immediately dizzy and I slam directly into the concrete barrier, scraping the skin on my shin in the process. When I look down I see about 3 inches of stark whiteness where my brown skin had been (CAN YOU SAY, OUCH!!!"). By the time I got home, that whiteness had turned to pink and then bloody dripping red. It was NOT pretty.

Of course being the incredibly irresponsible people that we are, Derrick and I had no first aid kit, no bandages, no anything but some peroxide that's been in the bathroom closet for years. Derrick pored it over my enormous wound and then rushed to the grocery store to get some more antiseptic and bandages. Besides feeling like a complete and utter fool, I felt a little sad. I mean as I lay on my bed with a throbbing ankle waiting for my boyfriend to get back I couldn't help wondering...what happened to me? What happened to that kid who liked to relay race and rollerskate up and down the street with her friends, that girl who would ride her bike for hours all over her neighborhood and beyond without a care in the world, that teenager who would rather be on the basketball court shooting hoops than wearing silly dresses and makeup. What happened to that girl with all that energy, that tomboy? She used to me.

I miss her.