For the past few weeks, I've been playing some pick-up basketball at the Bible Chapel here in town. We're a small group of players and enthusiasts that like to bang around under the hoop and shoot the lights out.
After a couple hours, we finish our time, a little battered and bruised. I've rolled both my ankles one night, the week after I jammed my finger on the ball, another week my neck had a little spasm. Tonight when I jumped up for the ball, the other player ducked down to go around ... and his shoulder met my ribs with great force.
The wind was knocked out of me and it took a while to recover, but I was able to finish the game. Lovingly laughing at my litany of injury, Shelley likes to remind me that I'm not 20 anymore. (Although I still look it).