Enough is enough.
I didn't like it when I was 8-years-old, the youngest on a baseball team, marking my time while the older (veteran) boys played in games that counted. Meanwhile, I was merely batting fodder for the star fastballers during team practices, only getting to play one inning of one pre-season game.
Like I said, I didn't like the bench. Not then and not now either.
When over three weeks ago, what started as a deep bruise from a heavy suitcase falling on my back, escalated to muscle spasms followed by fist fulls of drowsy drugs and heating pads all wrapped in a strict "recommendation" to stop all training.
Frig! Benched again.
But that's about to end. Tomorrow morning I stop collecting endurance sport splinters because I've been medically greenlight-ed to return to training. Light to moderate at first but real training just the same.
Benched, my butt!
By the way, after spending two years in the second string of my Little League team I earned a spot as the starting left fielder, batting over .400 two years in a row.
There's probably a lesson to the story I can apply to today. But I don't see it. All I know is, sitting on the bench sucks and tomorrow I'm rising off it.