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Was It Worth It?

I used to think golf would be my hobby. Work all week, play nine an afternoon or two and once on the weekend.  Low impact sport, which uses your body, but also your mind. I figured, should luck ever shine upon me, I'd spend my life trying to master the sport.

Yesterday, amongst the raindrops, I limped through eighteen. A charity foursome. My play was decent. My time was enjoyable. I had no complaint,  but some tightness in my knee. A few drinks and I'd be fine.

My eyes fluttered as the morning sun pierced
my blinds. I reached for some water, sipped it and leaned forward to get up. Suddenly a sharp pain ran down my left thigh. Another down my right hamstring. I placed my feet upon the ground, my heart starting to beat faster. The stress caused by the pain got me almost faint, but I leaned forward.  Like daggers, the pain shot down my legs. My feet swollen and sore. I limped, gingerly and cautiously towards the bathroom door. My still damp and rather pungent sneakers lay in front. A laughable obstacle, yet one that perplexed my body, as the mind shook it's head. Wondering aloud, "what has happened?"

A few moments later, I crept back into bed. Confined for the day. Bringing to light that life can't continue like this. Pain is one thing, but injury is another. I think to myself, was it worth it? Yes. A resounding yes.if only for those five or six shots, that made me remember why I had those dreams I once did, before life went astray, much like ab errant drive, yet nobody yelling "fore" to warn me.

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