I am ashamed of myself.

I’m usually a fast walker. Most of the time it’s not because I have somewhere to be in a hurry, I just don’t like being stuck in crowds or being forced to slow my pace by even slower people. And when I’m outside in the mornings, I usually walk fast to keep warm – not necessarily to get to work quicker.

Today when I got off the train at Union Station, I tried to walk fast (like usual) to the escalator to get into the station, so I could walk fast to the metro. But it didn’t work.

My legs would barely move, and when they did the rest of my body refused to follow. No – I wasn’t having a stroke or a heart attack and I don’t have any broken limbs or [seriously] pulled muscles. I’m just sore.

Let me tell you why I’m sore.

Yesterday was the debut of Sunday Fundays – a group of us got together and played kickball for a couple hours. It was a beautiful day and kickball was a great way to be outside with everyone. I even got a sunburn on my face. Hello, spring!

We all did pretty well; everyone got at least a base hit here and there, made plays in the outfield or spent some time on the pitcher’s mound. There were high-scoring innings, clutch double-plays and even a home run. I would say it was a great success.

Except now I’m sore from playing kickball. And I am ashamed of myself.

Even sitting at my desk at work right now, my rear end hurts every time I shift weight. I have to use my hands to pick up my leg in order to cross it over the other. I’ve been hobbling semi-crouched to the kitchen and back to refill my tea.

I am ashamed of myself. But I can’t wait to play again next weekend.