trash talking (life)

This evening, I realized that I have done something foolish: I talked big game; I got caught up in a moment...I wrote a a check my arse could not cash. After spending the afternoon running around the park for an hour and a half after a frisbee, chasing down my very fast roommate, and having a few run-ins with almost major injury (bent back finger, jumping into a wall of men much larger than myself who were also midair, and some serious elbow throwing by afore mentioned roommate), I feel like my body is about to give out. I feel my ribs. Each step brings a little bit of pain.

Basically, I'm a danger to myself and others when I play organized sports. But, it really is so much fun. Maybe I'll be a little more ready for this level of cut-throat ultimate next time.