Playing Racquetball.
This is a complicated one. First of all, I didn't post yesterday because 1) I took the daily reminder to do this off my phone so that the only days on my calendar that would appear in red would be days I have play rehearsal or something (instead of all appearing red, reminding me to write in my blog every day). 2) I was out playing racquetball until 12:30 a.m. 3)Even if I had remember to write in my blog last night, I probably wouldn't have because I was nursing my racquetball wound.
You see, being invited to play racquetball was my first time in the gym on campus (gyms kind of weird me out cuz they're sweaty and germy and smell exactly how they sound). Not that this really matters, but I just want to point out that I'm not a very sporty person. That's why it surprised me how much fun playing Racquetball is. It's very simple really, you're in this relatively small but high-ceilinged room and all you have to do is hit the ball against the far wall and get the heck out of the way so someone else can hit it.
But, not being used to this sort of thing, it kind of doesn't surprise me that my knee to this unique opportunity to resurrect an old injury and pop out of its socket while I chased wildly after the little blue ball. It popped back as I fell down, but it still hurt like the dickens.
So on the one hand, I was proud of myself for playing this sport for the first time, which was really fun for a while, but on the other hand, popping my knee out (and then walking back to my dorm) was definitely not a very pleasant activity. Oh well, there's a good side and a bad side to everything.
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