“I nodded along with their rationale, ignoring the premonition of myself laid prone like Wile E. Coyote post-steamroller”
photos by Sarah Maughan
I don’t just LTYM and mother and wife and write. I also go on assignment for Brava Magazine as a self-proclaimed fitness-for-spazzes columnist. They’ve sent me on missions involving archery, squash, Brazilian dance, Qi Gong, aerial yoga, running, swimming lessons, and in May I played football. Not flag football, not powderpuff, nope not foosball either (too dangerous). I trained with Madison’s full-on tackle women’s pro football team. You can read about it in this month’s issue, or click over here (turn to page 14-16 and click to enlarge).
Or here’s a blog-readers-only special summary:
Practice began with a toothless man named Cupcake helping me into a helmet and pads with his evil-clown tattooed arm, and ended up with me covered in sweat in the center of a team huddle. In between, I bobbed and weaved under the weight of my gear, while missing catches and those hard-to-land high-fives from my teammates. Had it been a game, The Blaze would’ve carried me off the field atop their shoulders, doused me in Gatorade, and sent me on my way with a slow-clap. I’m sure of it…