A standard Ultimate Frisbee team must include a minimum of four guys and four gals. Although only seven team members are in play at any given time, one team or the other gets to decide whether it is formed with three gals or four, unless both teams agree on an alternate configuration. Now guess how many of us gals showed up for game two. Three. I no longer remember how many guys turned out, but it was at least five. Point being, they had relief players.

Luckily, the other team that day was having the same dilemma, so it was an easy choice for the team captains. Three guys and three gals from each team would be in play. Um, exqueeze me? Do you not remember the last game, with the breathing and running and the quantum physics calculations? Well, okay, but… you say you’ll shave your head if we win? Look out, pretty boy. It’s ON.

And, miracle of miracles, it actually was! The other team was as well matched in age as they were in numbers, so the running, though still present, was much more friendly and relaxed. Suddenly, I found myself catching and throwing consistently in the right directions (though still to the enemy as often as not), and guarding like a fiend. This wasn’t like the first game at all. This was… what’s the word? The thing with the smiling and not needing to swear a blue streak just to keep yourself moving. Wait, wait, don’t tell me. Ah, yes, I remember now. Fun.

It wasn’t long before the score was 6 to 3. By half time, the gals on both sides were clearly beginning to get droopy, so the captains decided to switch the mix to four guys and two gals for the rest of the game. Why they didn’t do that from the beginning I will never understand but, since I was still feeling so good, I made it my personal goal to stay in the whole game. I was on fire again, but this time it felt good. The other team had better stamina in the second half though and we tied it up at 11′s and again at 12′s, eventually conceding at 12 to 14. Having won my own personal victory, I was happy to grant them their well deserved win.

On the way home, I began to worry about what I had just done to myself, experiencing bouts of tunnel vision that kept me driving more carefully than usual, though I was feeling amazingly good otherwise. I chalked it up to low blood sugar and, after some dinner and another long soak in a hot salt bath, collapsed into bed, content. It wasn’t until five days later at game three when I tried to run out on the field and my quads immediately started screaming that I realized the full extent of my foolishness. Long gone are the days when I could go from no activity to pretend athlete and think nothing of it. I was forced to sideline myself for the rest of the game after the first play. Two days later, I still couldn’t play, though my left leg seems usable now if I’m careful. So now I’m trying to stretch every day so I’ll be able to get back in the game next week.

Being out of shape is lame. Har har.

When someone tells you that a sport involves a lot of running, take them at their word. Bring water. And maybe a good cut man if you can find one.

It’s a beautiful day at the park for our first game. Sunny, but not too much so, plentiful grass, and a lovely, temperate breeze keeps the air moving. I put on my trusty, blue, bandana hat and some sunscreen, grab my frisbee and kit, and stroll over to a loose group of people in matching purple shirts. The hem of my pants swishes in the weeds, sending a cloud of dandelion seeds aloft in my wake as I scout around for a restroom. Always know where your exits are. A moment of panic when I can’t find one settles into a mild sense of foreboding as I spot one lone port-a-potty canted at an angle atop a rise on the far end of the next field over.

I spend a few minutes limbering up, grab a disc, and start hucking with the team captain, surprising both of us with a respectable forehand. Finally, that trick throw I learned in junior high will be put to good use! The under-the-leg forehand is too rusty for prime time though I suspect there’s something wrong with the disc; it won’t clear my leg properly. Faulty disc aside, I get in a number of good throws and prepare to rock the field. Why is my arm starting to ache?

Huddle up time, where the official rules of ultimate frisbee are explained. I get lost somewhere around rule 79: legal usage of particle physics and wave theory to affect the trajectory of the disc. Luckily, the other team is also new, though not a one of them is over 21 and after the first play it becomes clear that these guys have been practicing. They’re organized, and they can run and breathe at the same time. Durn kids. My lungs are on fire and I’m sure that I’m dying.

We swap team mates in and out throughout the game to give each other a breather. The blood has either all gone to my head or left it because I’ve completely lost my sense of direction and started throwing for the other team. I am grateful that the breeze is picking up though as it’s about the only thing keeping me upright anymore. Bending over gives me tunnel vision, so I don’t even attempt to sit down.

Final score: 2 to 13.

After the winning team heads out for post-game milk and cookies, we decide to play some scrimmage to learn tactics. Inexplicably, the theme song to Bonanza pops into my head as we continue to run around like drunken idiots. Except that we’re not drunk because the beer is still waiting for us at the bar. At one point, I actually throw up a little in my mouth. Why did I sign up for this torture? Surely it wasn’t the free beer. Ah, right, it was the exercise and doing something new. I am an idiot. Somewhere, on the other side of town, a salt bath is calling my name. And a big, fluffy pillow.

The world is shrinking again. I just had a video conference with a peer in Italy. From a laptop in my house. In my pajamas (though I did throw a sweater over the top so you couldn’t tell). For free. All hail the mighty interwebz!

Also, I cooked last night. With only a minimum of carrot prepping assistance from Mym, I made an entire meal, from appetizer to dessert. As if that weren’t miracle enough, the meal was vegetarian, largely organic, and the appetizers included stuffed crimini mushrooms, of which Mym ate at least three. (Mym doesn’t generally like mushrooms if he can taste them.) I made at least one mistake following the instructions per dish, but nobody went hungry and nobody died (or wanted to). Win!

Appetizers: green seedless grapes, stuffed and baked mushroom caps

Main Fare: roasted cumin carrots, baked artichokes, couscous with apricot vinaigrette, edamame, french bread

Dessert: brandied peaches with whipped cream

Baked Artichokes (from my sister)
3-4 large globe artichokes
½ c. olive oil
8-12 sprigs of fresh thyme
salt and pepper
¼ c. balsamic vinegar
2 tbsp honey mustard (or Dijon mustard and honey)

Preheat oven to 350°F
Wash and cut the artichokes into 4-8 pieces each and place in a baking dish. Combine all other ingredients and coat artichokes. Bake covered for 45 minutes, turning the artichokes once about halfway through.

Edamame
1 package frozen edamame

Open package and dump contents into a microwave safe bowl. Cover with plastic wrap and nuke for 4 minutes.

Brandied Peaches and Cream (from my mother)
1 jar of Mom’s homemade brandied peaches
½ pt heavy cream
3 tbsp sugar
1 tsp vanilla

Whip cream with mixer. When it begins to thicken, add sugar and vanilla; stir. Spoon over peaches.