By definition, a promise is a declaration that something will or will not be done, given, achieved, etc. by one. What would be considered the common era definition of a promise? Empty words and sayings, an easy way out, a lie, a false statement... More and more frequently people are over using and abusing promises. In the Bible, it is made evident, that a promise is a promise and it should be kept. God kept all of his promises to us, so why can't we keep our promises to Him and amungst each other?
(Just another one of those thoughts that randomly popped in my head as I was driving to school....)
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Simple Hallelujah
This week I have had a lot on my mind. Especially how I praise the Lord. Does the way I act and talk reflect in a positive way? Is every word that comes out of my mouth glorifying to Him? For example, in the van on the way to All-State Auditions, a few of the girls were gossiping about a girl that I particularly did not care for very much. I was in mid-gossip story before I realized what I was doing. I was being very disrespectful. I quickly finished the sentence with "but she has very pretty hair.", and then kept my mouth shut the rest of the way.
Maybe this has everything to do with the people I surround myself with. Obviously, no one is perfectly perfect, but shouldn't I strive for that? I would hope that my friends would strive for that too. In Girls of Grace, we are teaching my little 1st graders to glorify God in all that they do and say. This concept is a little surreal for a little 1st grader, but it makes sense to me. One of the reasons I love being a Girls of Grace junior leader is the fact that I get to relearn all of this stuff along with the girls. Sure, it's a little simplistic, but simplicity should be embraced, not shunned. There are so many of the adult leaders in Girls of Grace that make it look so easy. They are loved by everyone, care enough to comfort yet discipline, they have sooo many verses memorized, they have a true passion and love for the Lord, they fake perfection at it's finest, they display a positive attitude even when there are seven crying children tugging on them, they display all of the qualities of the "perfect wife/mother", and I can't help but notice that they are wholly devoted to what they do and the purpose they serve. What must one do to achieve such perfection?
All I can do is offer my simple hallelujah; although, it is not as simple as it seems.
Maybe this has everything to do with the people I surround myself with. Obviously, no one is perfectly perfect, but shouldn't I strive for that? I would hope that my friends would strive for that too. In Girls of Grace, we are teaching my little 1st graders to glorify God in all that they do and say. This concept is a little surreal for a little 1st grader, but it makes sense to me. One of the reasons I love being a Girls of Grace junior leader is the fact that I get to relearn all of this stuff along with the girls. Sure, it's a little simplistic, but simplicity should be embraced, not shunned. There are so many of the adult leaders in Girls of Grace that make it look so easy. They are loved by everyone, care enough to comfort yet discipline, they have sooo many verses memorized, they have a true passion and love for the Lord, they fake perfection at it's finest, they display a positive attitude even when there are seven crying children tugging on them, they display all of the qualities of the "perfect wife/mother", and I can't help but notice that they are wholly devoted to what they do and the purpose they serve. What must one do to achieve such perfection?
All I can do is offer my simple hallelujah; although, it is not as simple as it seems.
"I will serve the Lord with all of my heart, soul, mind, body, and strength."This verse is commonly quoted and memorized, but it is far more complex. Every ounce of me must be completely devoted to Lord. I have know this for a VERY long time, but it is just now sinking in. I have a lot of work to do if I am to strive for perfection (although it is unattainable) and be like all of the wonderful ladies that influence me.
Monday, October 8, 2012
A Scary Night
Saturday, before the Lincoln High Marching Competition, my (bare with me here) Dad's cousin's daughter-in-law and son called me and asked if I wanted to babysit their two adorable kids Drake (4 years old) and Brea (4 months old). I happily agreed and told them that I would be over at their house as soon as I was done with the Links Marching Competition. (The competition went terrible, by the way, we got a 2.)
It started out like a normal babysitting job, I fed Drake his supper, and then bottle fed the warm, BLONDE, ball of sunshine. Brea is a very happy baby during the day, but at night she cries constantly because she tries to fight off sleep for some reason.
It was about 10:30. Drake had fallen asleep watching Open Season in his room, and the baby was sleeping soundly in her portable crib set up in the dinning room. I was sitting against the wall right next to the crib and slowly drifted off to sleep. I was awoken by the shrill sounds of baby Brea needed her diaper changed. I lifted her out of her crib and changed the poop-infested diaper. I was about to put Brea back in her crib when a wave of smoke hit me. It was dark in the room, so I couldn't see the smoke, but I could smell it. I hastily put the screaming baby back in her crib and rushed all around the house looking for the one thing that scares me the most. Fire. I searched the house, but could not find any evidence of a fire. I went back to the dinning room only to discover that the sent had gotten worse. I grabbed the kids and ran out the door. It never crossed my mind to call the fire department, I called the one person who I trust the most when a situation involves smoke and fire, my Dad. He told me that I needed to call 911 immediately. I did.
It started out like a normal babysitting job, I fed Drake his supper, and then bottle fed the warm, BLONDE, ball of sunshine. Brea is a very happy baby during the day, but at night she cries constantly because she tries to fight off sleep for some reason.
It was about 10:30. Drake had fallen asleep watching Open Season in his room, and the baby was sleeping soundly in her portable crib set up in the dinning room. I was sitting against the wall right next to the crib and slowly drifted off to sleep. I was awoken by the shrill sounds of baby Brea needed her diaper changed. I lifted her out of her crib and changed the poop-infested diaper. I was about to put Brea back in her crib when a wave of smoke hit me. It was dark in the room, so I couldn't see the smoke, but I could smell it. I hastily put the screaming baby back in her crib and rushed all around the house looking for the one thing that scares me the most. Fire. I searched the house, but could not find any evidence of a fire. I went back to the dinning room only to discover that the sent had gotten worse. I grabbed the kids and ran out the door. It never crossed my mind to call the fire department, I called the one person who I trust the most when a situation involves smoke and fire, my Dad. He told me that I needed to call 911 immediately. I did.
"Gage County 911 dispatch center, what is your emergency?"
Shaking, I answered the man, "Hello, my name is Annastazia Stofer, and I have no idea where I am at, and I think the house is on fire."
"Ma'am, is everyone out of the house? Are you a safe distance from the house?"
He had many more questions and I answered them all to the best of my ability. I was crying, and so where both of the kids. Then he asked me if I had the kids bundled up. I looked down at the two screaming kids. Drake was in my right arm, with his arm tightly around my neck, and in my left arm was Baby Brea. It then hit me, it was 35 degrees out side and those kids were out there wearing only their pajamas, and none of us had shoes on. I quickly took off my Syracuse Softball sweatshirt and put it on Drake trying the best I could to wrap him up. Then, I took off my sweatpants and wrapped baby Brea up in them to try to keep her warm. Now I was standing out there wearing only a tee-shirt and shorts. My whole body was shaking, I couldn't tell if I was just cold or having some sort of nervous breakdown. I noticed that I could barely breathe, I frantically reached for my inhaler in the pocket of my sweatshirt that was wrapped around Drake.
Finally I could hear sirens, the dispatcher hung up, and a police officer pulled up and was yelling at me to get the kids into the back of his car where it was warm. Soon after the kids where placed safely in the car, a firetruck came racing up the hill. Six firemen, suited up in full gear, ran into the house. I started crying harder when I thought of my Dad and how disappointed he would be with my inability to handle this situation calmly. The police officer asked me several questions, many of which I didn't have answers for.
After 20 minutes, the six firemen, protruded from the house. By this time I was calm, but still shaking. They explained to me that there was a layer of dust somewhere on/in the heat pump that burned, and that was why the smell intensified as it got colder outside. They said that they had taken care of everything and that it was okay to go back into the house. I grabbed the bundled kids and walked back into the house, still shaking.
I carefully laid Drake in his bed and he fell asleep right away. I grabbed an extra baby blanket and paced around the family room carefully rocking Brea to sleep. I placed her in her crib after she fell asleep, and then called Dad. As I suspected, he was disappointed in my inability to keep calm. I learned a few things from this experience. (More like I got yelled at by an angry over protective father about these things.
- Call 911 immediately, don't call Dad first.
- Make sure I have shoes and adequate clothing for me and all people under my care.
- Know the address of where I am at.
- Keep calm.
- Always tell the firefighters/police officers that my Dad is a firefighter.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Flawed Logic
In my choir there are roughly 95 people (100 if you add the people taking it as an independent study). A class this size can really be frustrating, especially with only one director and no teachers' aids. In every class there are going to be distractions, but in choir these distractions are more prevalent. There is one more frequently reoccurring problem with choir, no body sings out and no one has confidence (except for everyone in Encore). There are 20 people in Encore. There are only 20 people carrying the weight of a 100 person choir. It does not work out! I walk out of choir almost crying because my voice hurts so bad from screaming my part in the rest of the Altos' ears! Right now, my director is having me walk around and help people out, and today as we attempted to do one of our hardest songs, I walked over to help a few freshmen altos out. They smiled at me and said "We're so glad you are coming over here. We like it when you sing our part loudly, it makes it easy." This statement really made me mad. How can these girls not want to put their best effort forth? By me screaming in their ears, they are not learning anything. They aren't learning to listen for their notes in the accompaniment, they aren't learning to sight-read, and they are being lazy. It just frustrates me when I see some people who are trying really hard to succeed and others who could honestly care less.
Something that my director always says is: "If you aren't hitting the right notes, don't be the loudest one in the room." This REALLY aggravates me. Some people aren't sure if they are singing the right notes or not, and when she says this, they drop out and stop singing. This is not helping anything because now we don't know what to fix because the only people you can hear are the 5 altos that are in Encore. A very wise, hairless, choir director that I had my 8th grade year and freshman year would always, ALWAYS, tell us to make loud mistakes. He would always encourage us to take pride in what we are doing and to do it with confidence. "We can fix mistakes that we can hear, but if I can't hear them, I can't help you fix them." As crazy as this sounds, I make mistakes too. (I know, you must all be in complete shock.) I can remember sooo many times freshman year when I was in Mixed Choir that I would make a loud mistake, and Mr. Baldman Helzer would give me a disgusted look, we would all laugh about it, and then fix it. This is how we learn, we learn from our mistakes. I make them loudly and proudly, and then I fix it the next time. A large chunk of sight-reading is trial and error... ERROR! It's okay to make mistakes as long as you fix them, but apparently not for the Syracuse Choir.
Dani, who is a brunette, senior version of me, is an alto in choir as well, and lately we have been discussing ways to help improve the confidence level of our beloved Altos... and so far, "we got nuttin." We have tried positive criticism, yelling, one-on-one conversations, sectionals, and nothing seems to work. We cannot get these lovely ladies to sing!
Something that my director always says is: "If you aren't hitting the right notes, don't be the loudest one in the room." This REALLY aggravates me. Some people aren't sure if they are singing the right notes or not, and when she says this, they drop out and stop singing. This is not helping anything because now we don't know what to fix because the only people you can hear are the 5 altos that are in Encore. A very wise, hairless, choir director that I had my 8th grade year and freshman year would always, ALWAYS, tell us to make loud mistakes. He would always encourage us to take pride in what we are doing and to do it with confidence. "We can fix mistakes that we can hear, but if I can't hear them, I can't help you fix them." As crazy as this sounds, I make mistakes too. (I know, you must all be in complete shock.) I can remember sooo many times freshman year when I was in Mixed Choir that I would make a loud mistake, and Mr. Baldman Helzer would give me a disgusted look, we would all laugh about it, and then fix it. This is how we learn, we learn from our mistakes. I make them loudly and proudly, and then I fix it the next time. A large chunk of sight-reading is trial and error... ERROR! It's okay to make mistakes as long as you fix them, but apparently not for the Syracuse Choir.
Dani, who is a brunette, senior version of me, is an alto in choir as well, and lately we have been discussing ways to help improve the confidence level of our beloved Altos... and so far, "we got nuttin." We have tried positive criticism, yelling, one-on-one conversations, sectionals, and nothing seems to work. We cannot get these lovely ladies to sing!
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
You may be a music nerd when...
You may be a music nerd when....
- you get your All-State Choir Music taken away and put on top of the fridge when you are sassy to your mother.
- your oboe gets put on top the fridge when your room isn't clean. (As if I can't reach up there...)
- your Encore songs are stuck in your head all day and you use the tune as ways to study for Biology.
- you conduct the national anthem with your toes at a Varsity Softball game while you are standing in line with the rest of the team.
- you walk up and down the rows of altos (there are about 30 of them) during choir to make sure everyone is singing out and singing the right notes.
- I seriously do this! It is very frusterating. I take a pencil with me and I mark up their music if they are doing something wrong. I feel like a really mean person when I do this, and it kind of scares me (especially when I have to tell a senior that she is doing something wrong), but this is my role as the "unofficial Alto 1 section leader".
- instead of listening to "pump up music" on the way to an away softball game, you listen to your All-State music.
- you cannot listen to a song and walk without your feet on the beat.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
Derpin' up
Tonight was our last regular season home softball game. Our opponent was Johnson County Central (JCC). After warm ups, I sprinted into the dugout to read the starting line-up much to my displeasure, under the sub catagory it said "A. Stofer 13"... Great, I thought, another lousy game in which a derp-up freshman is starting the game in my position. But, oh well, you don't question Coach Bob's Positional Theories no matter how radical they seem. At the end of the first inning we were up 3-0, and at the end of the second inning we were up 7-0. "Stofer!" Coach Bob yelled, "Git over here and bat for Griz." Finally! I jumped off of that bench and frantically looked for my disgusting smelling batting gloves. The pitcher pitched me four balls, and two of them were in the dirt, and the other two were way over my head, so I was walked to first. When I got on base, I stole second, and the girl behind me got a single hit soon afterward. Then, the next girl in line hit a line drive over the left fielder's head. By the time the ball was hit, I was already half way to third base because of my lead-off, and I paused for a second to look at Coach Bob. He was waving his hands in the air and shouting, "Run Stofer Run! Score! Go 4! Go Home! You better slide if I tell you to! Run Stofer Run! Rounding third, I could see the catcher at home ready to recieve the throw from left field. The throw went over her head, and I didn't have to slide, but I realized after I started walking back to the dugout that I never touched home plate, I had stepped right over it. I looked up at my wonderful mother sitting at the top of the stands. She was waving her hands and motioning me to go back and touch the plate. I looked at her and somehow with my eyes told her to keep it quiet, she did. The Ump never called me out, and none of the coaches or players saw it. Now I know for next time that I need to adjust my strides to ensure that I actually touch the base, although it is quite hard to adjust your strides while you are sprinting at your top speed (which in my case, isn't very fast...) I scored the 11th run for my team and the game was won by our team 12-0.
On the topic of derping up, today when I was practically running up the stairs to get to English 2 on time, I fell up the stairs with a long line of people behind me. I quickly recovered from the fall and looked up only to see the guy who absolutely drives me crazy standing at the top of the stairs. This guy starts drama about everyone, he spreads/starts rumors, twists peoples' words, and backstabbs people daily. It was no surprise when later that day many people were talking about my "uncontrollable ditsiness" and my "awkward clumsiness". And he also started a rumor about me "falling for guys"... really? We are in high school, not kindergarten. Grow. Up. I just think it is terrible that people choose the girls who have never had a boyfriend and tell them that they "fall for so many guys" and "get around" etc. School has only been in session for a month and a half and I am already tired of all the drama. Why can't we all get along?? If I could create a perfect, drama-free soceity, I would.
On the topic of derping up, today when I was practically running up the stairs to get to English 2 on time, I fell up the stairs with a long line of people behind me. I quickly recovered from the fall and looked up only to see the guy who absolutely drives me crazy standing at the top of the stairs. This guy starts drama about everyone, he spreads/starts rumors, twists peoples' words, and backstabbs people daily. It was no surprise when later that day many people were talking about my "uncontrollable ditsiness" and my "awkward clumsiness". And he also started a rumor about me "falling for guys"... really? We are in high school, not kindergarten. Grow. Up. I just think it is terrible that people choose the girls who have never had a boyfriend and tell them that they "fall for so many guys" and "get around" etc. School has only been in session for a month and a half and I am already tired of all the drama. Why can't we all get along?? If I could create a perfect, drama-free soceity, I would.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Christmas in September
CHRISTmas is my absolute favorite season of the year. Emotions are flowing, families are gathering, people are celebrating the miraculous birth of our Lord and Savior, it's just the perfect time of the year. I am especially excited for Christmas this year because we are a lot closer to most of my family now, so it will be a larger family gathering. (Not to mention that we don't have to worry about Daddy having a Fire or Rescue call during Christmas dinner this year..) My absolute most favorite Christmas song is "Here with Us" by Joy Williams. This song magnificently displays the wonderfulness of the Birth of Jesus. (And it has pretty harmonies!) I sing this song year-round. It is downloaded on every mobile device in my possession; on every laptop and cell phone (but not iPods because my mom is "anti-Apple" and thinks I will just break it). I had heard this song many times before I claimed it to be my favorite, but the words never meant anything to me until a couple of years ago when I discovered just how amazing the description is. This song also has a beautiful oboe part to it. (That I will never be tallented enough to play...)
It's still a mystery to me
That the hands of God could be so small,
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King,
You're here with us
You're here with us
It's still a mystery to me, oh,
How His infant eyes have seen the dawn of time
How His ears have heard an angel's symphony,
But still Mary had to rock her Savior to sleep
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
Here with us
You're here with us
(Ohh, mmm, here with us)
Jesus the Christ, born in Bethlehem
A baby born to save, to save the souls of man
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
You're here with us
You're here with us
It's still a mystery to me
That the hands of God could be so small,
How tiny fingers reaching in the night
Were the very hands that measured the sky
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King,
You're here with us
You're here with us
It's still a mystery to me, oh,
How His infant eyes have seen the dawn of time
How His ears have heard an angel's symphony,
But still Mary had to rock her Savior to sleep
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
Here with us
You're here with us
(Ohh, mmm, here with us)
Jesus the Christ, born in Bethlehem
A baby born to save, to save the souls of man
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Heaven's love reaching down to save the world
Hallelujah, hallelujah
Son of God, Servant King
You're here with us
You're here with us
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Anxiety/Nervous Breakdown/Complaining
This past week I have been noticing that I am acting strangly. I am always on edge, sassy, flighty, annoyed, worried, freaking out, or all of the above. I seriously don't know what is going on with me. Tuesday, in World Cultures (seventh period), I started freaking out. I was having some sort of weird nervous break down. At first, I thought that I was just nervous for the test I was about to take, but I had studied for it and knew all of the answers. My whole body was shaking, and I could barely write. (My hand writing was so bad it almost looked like Byron's hand writing... sorry Bud, couldn't resist). I noticed that my breathing was short and weezey, so then I thought I was having an asthma attack, but my breathing calmed down after about 5 minutes of deep controlled breaths that made me light-headed. As Mr. Kreklow passed out our tests, my whole body started shaking again. I looked at the people around me and they weren't shaking, and they didn't even notice that I was. I gave a worried glance to Mr. Kreklow as he returned to his desk, but he did not react at all. Staring at the page, I tried to calm myself down, but it wasn't working very well. I read and reread all of the questions and answered them to my best ability, but so many things were rushing through my head that I could not concentrate at all. I noticed that I calmed down a little bit after handing in my pathetic attempt of a test. My body continued to shake throughout the class period, and when the bell rang, I practically jumped out of my seat. I rushed to my locker, and then headed to my eighth period Biology class. As my body was still shaking in Biology, I decided that I needed to find away to calm myself down or driving to softball practice after school was going to be very dangerous. I have no idea how it happened, but finally, fifteen minutes before the bell rang, I calmed myself enough so that I could at least write again.
Softball practice that night was sketchy, at best. Coach decided that it was going to be a conditioning day. So along with our normal drills and workouts, we had to condition. As a first baseman, every ball that I dropped, I had to run all the way around the field (which is a pretty long distance for a softball player who only sprints from base to base). We had to run a ladder drill, in this drill we had to run 4 home-firsts, 3 home-second's, 2 home-third's, and 1 home-home. We did that drill 5 times. We also had to do a bunch of throwing drills where we were tracking 5 balls at a time. Which means throwing ball after ball after ball. This absolutely killed my already injured shoulder. I could barely hold my arm up enough to drive my car home. And now I have to wear this weird icing contraption that ties around my neck and around my arm and applies REALLY cold ice to my shoulder.
(I'm not one for complaining, but I figured if I was going to complain I should get it all out in one post.)
Softball practice that night was sketchy, at best. Coach decided that it was going to be a conditioning day. So along with our normal drills and workouts, we had to condition. As a first baseman, every ball that I dropped, I had to run all the way around the field (which is a pretty long distance for a softball player who only sprints from base to base). We had to run a ladder drill, in this drill we had to run 4 home-firsts, 3 home-second's, 2 home-third's, and 1 home-home. We did that drill 5 times. We also had to do a bunch of throwing drills where we were tracking 5 balls at a time. Which means throwing ball after ball after ball. This absolutely killed my already injured shoulder. I could barely hold my arm up enough to drive my car home. And now I have to wear this weird icing contraption that ties around my neck and around my arm and applies REALLY cold ice to my shoulder.
(I'm not one for complaining, but I figured if I was going to complain I should get it all out in one post.)
Thursday, September 13, 2012
The Suicidal Goat/Sheep-ish looking thing
As you drive through the flourishing town (you can't even call it a town... let's go with 'Domestic Gathering of a couple homes in one general area') of Burr, NE, there is a cute red house on the northwest side. The people that live there own the entire block, so they can have "pasture" for their llama/goat/sheep-ish looking things (I honestly have no idea what they are). Anyway, there are about 6 of these little 'creatures', and when ever I drive through Burr, they are all out in the road. So I honk and they all go waddling back through the small whole in the fence, except for the pudgy one. He waddles back to the fence as well, but when he realizes that he can't get his fat 'creature' butt through the hole, he runs back to the road! This crazy creature has almost been run over multiple times! (Mainly by two fairly tall people who pay no attention to the speed limit in residential areas...cough...Mom and Dad....cough). I feel so sorry for this poor little fat 'creature'! Lately, when I drive through Burr the same thing happens, except the fat one isn't there. I think the owners ate him! It almost made me sad to not see the fat little 'creature' waddle around in the road. I, feeling a little emtionally touched by the fat 'creature', kind of hope he comes around again.
P.S. A+ for using a participial phrase in that last sentence! We happen to be 'disecting' those in English right now, and I happen to be ignoring my English homework to create this post. :)
P.S. A+ for using a participial phrase in that last sentence! We happen to be 'disecting' those in English right now, and I happen to be ignoring my English homework to create this post. :)
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Shoulder Injury
Fall softball practice started in July, and ever since that first day of practice, I have been expiriencing major shoulder pain on my throwing arm. I brushed it off as sorness, which would make sense. I went from throwing 2 hours a week to throwing for 2 hours a day 5-6 days a week. I have been playing through the pain this whole time, but then my shoulder started hurting when I would do normal things, such as, playing my piccolo, putting dishes away, brushing my teeth, combing my hair. It made me really worried about if I was going to be able to continue playing.
So, I went to see the trainer and he said I have somesort of tendonistis in my shoulder. (I wasn't really listening to what kind of tendonitis it was, I was too busy focusing on his mono-tone, high, whispery voice...it was driving my crazy!). The good news is that I will be able to finish out the rest of this softball season, but the bad news is that after softball season I'm not allowed to do any throwing or heavy lifting with my arm until after Christmas break. I was pretty depressed about it, but my mom joyfully suggested that during that period of time I could do ab workouts and run a lot to get into shape. I rolled my eyes and laughed at her fail of an attempt to make me feel better. It looks like from October to January I will be heavily training for the Triathlon I plan on doing next summer!
As for right now, I play through the pain. I have to ice my shoulder everyday after practice, and I have to do shoulder exercises that make me look flat out dumb, but oh,well. :) It will "supossedly" help me in the long run!
P.S. I successfully obtained my School Permit this week! Driving to school, a shoulder injury, Encore, and homecoming all in the same week!?! CRAZY!
So, I went to see the trainer and he said I have somesort of tendonistis in my shoulder. (I wasn't really listening to what kind of tendonitis it was, I was too busy focusing on his mono-tone, high, whispery voice...it was driving my crazy!). The good news is that I will be able to finish out the rest of this softball season, but the bad news is that after softball season I'm not allowed to do any throwing or heavy lifting with my arm until after Christmas break. I was pretty depressed about it, but my mom joyfully suggested that during that period of time I could do ab workouts and run a lot to get into shape. I rolled my eyes and laughed at her fail of an attempt to make me feel better. It looks like from October to January I will be heavily training for the Triathlon I plan on doing next summer!
As for right now, I play through the pain. I have to ice my shoulder everyday after practice, and I have to do shoulder exercises that make me look flat out dumb, but oh,well. :) It will "supossedly" help me in the long run!
P.S. I successfully obtained my School Permit this week! Driving to school, a shoulder injury, Encore, and homecoming all in the same week!?! CRAZY!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)