Always the Tough Girl

My sister and I didn't really grow up around family, at least for most of our childhood. We lived in many place due to Dad being active duty military (1st the Coast Guard and later the Army). It was normal for everyone to visit us and once a year, usually we went and saw everyone. Most are still there now. Being that my sister and I only had each other we and our parents, our parents brought us up to be fairly independant, I think anyways. This has found very useful later in life as I married military myself, Air Force, which has taken me away from my family. It isn't always easy but well it is what it is and there isn't much that I could do about it, so I just deal.

What I'm trying to get at, I think, is that being independant has also has a way of making you kinda tough. You learn to do things on your own more often than not and it isn't that I'm afraid to ask for help, it is just that sometimes it is just easier if I just do it myself.

Playing sports I have always been the tough girl, the big girl (I didn't say huge), the one that everyone was more or less afraid of, at least on the playing field. If I got hurt, I got up and walked off the field. There haven't been to many times where I have had to be carried off if ever from what I can remember. A tough girl I was. Injury shows weakness and I don't ever want to be that helpless weak girl. Now don't get me wrong, if I need help, I'm going to ask for it, but in the meantime I'll take care of me.

Today I was playing racquetball. It was the first time I have played in about 1 1/2. My racquetball partner left, moved away. Here at Fairford, they have only ONE racquetball court. ONE!!!! Now don't get me wrong, I know it is a small base and all the la la stuff, but just one. So everytime I want to play there is a line. I hate waiting line and I hate playing doubles, which you have to because there is only one court. One of the guys said you should come on Tuesdays and Thursdays because no one is here (mandatory PT is only on MWF). I said sure, but who am I going to play with, one of the guys that works in the building next to me pipes up. I'll come over and play, what time? I get there early to warm up and he shows up shortly there after. We were playing for about 20 minutes and what happens. I jump to get a ball, come down and CRACK! No isn't is broken, stop freaking out Mom. But damnit if I didn't roll the hell out of it.

The tough girl inside me comes out. I'm okay, I'm okay. It hurts like a MF but I'm okay. I get up, walk it off a little and then I look to see if there is instant swelling. Instant swelling = broken bone. No instant swelling. Well someone called the fire dept and told them I broke my leg. Five minutes later there are 4 very large British Firemen come in with bags and possibly a stretcher to carry me out of there. Seriously guys, I'm fine. I'm playing in the next game no matter how much it hurts. Well you really shouldn't. I know I know, but damnit, I'm that tough girl I'm going to play. I'm not going to known as the girl who said she could play and rolls her ankle the first day out. But in hine sight, that is what I did.

Currently I'm sitting here watching my ankle swell. It looks great, I can see all the colors coming out. I was never one to roll ankles, I was a knee girl in both HS and college, which is the main reason I quit playing soccer in college. So here I sit, still sweaty and gross, my leg propped up and in some pain but ya know what.....I'm still that tough girl and that is all that matters.