The Start of Something Painful.

The itch returned this week. The itch is strong. Very strong.

Last year, I realized that I'm quickly approaching 30 years of age, and my dreams of revitalizing a hardball career are probably not going to happen. I'm not out of shape, but I'm really far from being in baseball playing shape. (There also are very few leagues that cater to the over-18 hardball crowd.) I'm never content to just sit still, so I took up another activity: Golf.

I used to make fun of golf. I was one of those cocky guys who thought he was too good for golf. I used to hit a moving object. It would go 90 mph, curve sometimes, and there was even danger involved. There was running and protective gear involved. Golf? That was an old man sport. Golf is for old men with funny pants pulled up to their necks. The hardest part of golf was hitting your stationary ball away from the trees or water or whatever stationary obstacle was sitting in plain view. Golf. Blah.

Well past me... Shut the hell up. Golf is freakin' HARD. This is officially my second season of golf. I'm much better than I was last year at this time, but there is still a lot of progress to be made. I never realized how mental the game was. (Maybe I'm the mental one...) There's a lot of thinking, planning, counterplanning, second-guessing and on and on. It's a lot more intense that I had originally thought.

The thermometer topped 60 degrees this week. I had the urge to be outside for extended periods of time, just as I had been since I was 4. Warm weather used to lead to months of outdoor activity: Summers of daily baseball and football games with the friends. Now, it means I get to wear funny pants, haul a big bag of metal sticks, and swear at nature. And I get to be my own opponent.

But being that this is March in Western, PA., it's not golf season yet. I awoke this morning to a snow covered car. The forecast is calling for sub 40 degree weather and showers all week. Just the right combination to make the itch a lot stronger until this cold streak breaks. I've only managed to get 9 holes in, (thanks to a mental health 1/2 day vacation on Tuesday!) My entire midsection is sore, which makes sneezing a lot of fun, but it's a good kind of hurting. It's the "there's hope that I'll be able to enjoy the outdoors some point during this year" pain.

So, until it thaws, I'm laid out on the couch... constantly checking the weather...and damning that little groundhog who gave us the extra weeks of winter.