I am pacing like a caged tiger ..... I can't sit down, I can't stand up. It has always been thus for me at the beginning of the rugby season, raring to get on the field after the summer brake.
Of cause I am only dreaming my rugby career finished a few seasons ago, pressure of work made it more and more difficult to find the time to train and play. At the hight of my rugby career, in my mid 30s I was training for the RAF Station team on Monday, training for my club side on Tuesday, playing for the station on Wednesday, training for the club again on the Thursday, drill training with the club on Friday and playing for the club on Saturday. If that wasn't enough, I also played in the local Sunday Football (soccer) League as a goalkeeper.
So is this tiger feet bit a vestige memory of my playing days? Is it heck as like?
My toes are trying to touch down on the ceiling.
My feet are as big as a mammoth's.
My legs are as red as the flag of the same name.
The whole issue is a blur of pain.
Bring back my playing days, OK so my body was always trying to recover from the abuse of the latest game but at least it recovered ...... sigh.