Two feet of pain

My feet hurt. Yes, I realize this is frequently the complaint of old people (and people who never get to sit down at work, but that ain't me). My feet hurt in part because they spent too much time in what I like to call Hawaii sandals. Hawaii sandals are fun, but they're lacking support, stability and other niceties people usually seek in their footwear. They're really comfy at first, but I think what wrecked things this week is that I took a long walk to lunch. Then, I played broomball.

What is broomball?. It is a tradition at my workplace. And with the company picnic coming up next week, I thought Ii would jump in and play. How hard can it be, right? Not that hard, it turns out. At least not in terms of understanding how it is played. But when it comes to actually getting in the game, well, suffice it to say I felt all of my nearly four decades and then some. The way to succeed at broomball is to just run your ass off, all the while trying to knock a large (knee-high) ball across the opponents goal line (a short side of the rectangular field) while keeping it away from your goal line. This can occasionally get a little physical. The younger guys really tend to dive all over the place. But mostly, perhaps because I'm one of the very few women who plays, I've avoided physical harm so far (one practice).

I asked the team organizer if I was the only woman playing, by the way. He said I probably wouldn't, but that unless HR fielded a team, it just wasn't easy for any department to get many women involved. Touche'.

It's interesting to work in a place so full of guys. Not that newspapers lack the fellas, but the mix is MUCH more even. And in the department where I worked (features), it was nearly all women. (Whereas sports is nearly all men.)