I know you will be shocked, but this is a true statement: I have begun a routine of physical activity.
It's true, I swear. Although this weekend I was reminded of one of the reasons I never was very physical to begin with: pain.
I have been running multiple times a week since the end of April, which I enjoy. That is also weird, I know. I usually do around a mile and a half, although I found a really great 5K in July. Observe.
This weekend was a very active weekend for my apartment. Saturday I went running and then played tennis with two roommates and a friend in our ward. We discovered something we already knew---except for Mac, we are terrible tennis players. It was fun, although I felt bad for Mac who "almost broke a sweat once." Hahaha. He is a ridiculously powerful server, though, and unintentionally hit me in the leg. I now have a lovely welt surrounded by a bruise, which has impressed everyone who's seen it except my mother. But I think the light in Krista's basement was bad and she just didn't see it very well.
Yesterday we passed Audrey's rugby ball out in front of the apartment for a very long time. I recently learned how to throw a rugby ball and am excited about this new skill. Unfortunately, I'm not quite as skilled in the catching department. It was passed a little too far to the right for me to comfortably catch, and the ball bent my fingers back weirdly, jamming one. I never realized how much one finger would make a difference, but apparently it does. I couldn't swim (although I did) and this entire post has been typed with only my left hand.