Forms of torture

Hockey season has started again, I did play summer hockey and had a fabulous time, scoring three goals per match towards the end of our short season and feeling like a real pro, okay an IMPROVER is more accurate, but hey this is my story!
That is until I ventured out on a cold and wet Wednesday night and reality came tap tapping. I am not very good at the drills, in fact I wanted to lift a corner of the astro turf and hide. The weird thing is that once we started playing, unfortunately only after 1 hour and 15 minutes of humiliation, I was actually quite good. I thoroughly enjoyed getting soaking wet and having rivers of water running into my eyes, slippery grip on the hockey stick and soggy shoes. It somehow added to the satisfaction of going out there and getting some exercise!

After all that running around I decided that a more gentle approach to exercise was a good follow on and so S and I took her Scottish terrier for a walk up Kilmashogue, a poorly timed walk it has to be said. We met at 7h30 and began our ascent with Alfie happily leading the way. At 8h15 we decided to turn around and head back as the evenings have shortened alarmingly and we found ourselves stumbling back in near darkness towards the end of our descent! Of course we had Alfie for protection and S and I did not feel the need to speed walk, or jog on our way back to the cars, at least we got to appreciate the sights of lit up Dublin spread peacefully below us. I think form now on our mountain walks will have to take place on the weekends and when the urge of an evening walk attacks, we will prowl the streets of suburbia instead.