I’ll keep this one short and sweet. Hockey is amazing; it’s my therapy. Without it, I don’t know where I would be. WHen I step onto the ice, I feel like I’m at home, regardless of what state I’m in. Feeling the crackling of the ice under blades and hearing the crunching of the freshly zamboni’d ice is one of the greatest things in the world.
Before tonight, I hadn’t stepped on ice for 3.5 months. I was grinning from the moment I stepped onto the ice. Tongue out, knees bent, stick down, skating up and down the ice. Just feeling the puck on my blade and being able to be in control of the play, was great. Hockey isn’t like other sports for me; if I play basketball, or even soccer, I don’t have a threshold for where I think I should be. When I play hockey, I know what my level is, I know where I’m suppose to position myself, and most importantly, I know what to do when I get the puck. Even though I’m a goalie, I’ve skated out enough times to know what I’m supposed to do. Feeling the cold air hit my cheeks the more I accelerate, it’s addicting. I can’t tell you how tired I was after every extended shift, with just three subs per team, I was doing a lot of skating. Most importantly, I know I’ll be sore tomorrow.
I cannot wait to play hockey again next week, and now that I have equipment, hopefully I’ll be able to go out and skate on my own sometime. The point is don’t lose that part of yourself that lets you be who you are. Nothing matters when I’m on the ice, not work, not school, not any people or problems in my life; all that matters is the ice, and the puck.
It’s home, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.