"It always seemed like a joke"

So I woke up in the middle of the night with chest pain (i.e. sternum pain) and a slight fever. I am sick and my high school sternum injury, which has always seemed like a joke, is inflamed for some unexplained reason. Anyhow, it still hurts, but I am breathing normally. My back also hurts quite a bit.

Lest you grow concerned for my well-being, let me take you back a few days to my gardening foray. It seems that a few decades of not doing anything yard-work related has made me somewhat of a pansy. Yes, it felt amazing to wack that hoe around (say that five times for fun), but let's face it, my body has not been trained for that sort of thing. Yes, my years of aquatic sports have made me somewhat broad-shouldered and "athletic" looking, but don't let it fool you. I swam because it was as low-contact as possible. Short of running into a wall (seen it, and it can get ugly), swimming is pretty safe. It also does not require a lot of human interaction, team-building, or compromise. Somehow that was good for me as a young person; now, not so much.

In this case, the sternum injury was caused by an obese girl who threatened me, then kicked me in the chest in the water during a water polo game. Good times. Diagnosis: Cracked sternum. Treatment: None.

I am drawn to the hoeing; it is unbridled and raw. I can let out the crap of the day without hurting anyone, especially if no one is home (unless they come home in the middle of the backyard drama-then it's just awkward).

I've never been a particularly "violent" person. I didn't get into fights in school or anything; I mostly got threatened by cholas. I didn't ask for it. I was just sad all the time, or thinking, or mad, so I always looked ready-to-kill. That made some people a little crazy, and other people treat me poorly. I don't think I have built-up hostility, but maybe I have bad stuff built up inside of me that needs to be let out.

Maybe I abhor violence because I know what I myself am capable of, so I stick to safe activities, like blowing up dirt clods.

We all know: they're the real enemy.