Fore!

I come from a family of golfers.  I thought golf was neat simply because the ladies wore cute outfits.  Recently I posted a set of scores on my social network.  I received kudos for my game.  Unfortunately they were my bowling scores! 

I really don’t know when it happened.  I’d like to blame my kids or some other scape-goat but I have to quit blaming others and place it where it belongs….on me.  I made me a marshmallow.  No, I didn’t cook that marshmallow up in the kitchen.  I was not wearing my cute little Betty Boop apron.  I was sitting on my duff eating bon bons, popcorn, or any other stereotypical delicacy (yes, popcorn is a delicacy. Just think about all those yummy flavors to top on it!).

But honestly, last night was horrible.  I don’t even want to talk about it because it is so painful—both figuratively AND literally.  I hurt myself bowling!!!!  I can’t even say I dropped a bowling ball on my foot.  Nope.  I tore a muscle while (boo hoo hoo) practicing.  I hate to admit that I’m so out of shape that bowling has become a contact sport.  I threw so many gutter balls, I think my teammates were hoping the league would take pity on me and bring up the bumperpads.  I swear, if one more person told me the personnel had already cleaned out the gutters, I was going to stuff my dirty bowling sock in their mouth!  Gee, I guess bowling IS a contact sport.  Ahem.

I have a new zest for exercising.  I bought a yoga video for beginners.  I’ll let you know how it goes….unless ...I can’t ...get ...back ...up ...off the floor.