Come Help Me Out Of The Car!

I haven't played golf in months, so when Ron said he had made a tee time for us at ten o'clock this morning, I was apprehensive. But I went. It wasn't too bad, actually. I hit about three really good drives on the front nine and my chipping was a little better than usual. It was what went on between the drive and the green that hurt my score. Anyway, we were on the number twelve tee box (on the back nine) when my cell phone rang. I was actually sitting in the cart waiting for the guys (Doug and Bob were playing with us) to tee off, when I answered it. It was someone needing a sub for tennis at three o'clock. I said, "Sure, I'll do it." So instead of finishing up the round of golf, I promptly headed for the club house. I figured I would need to conserve energy for the tennis match. And I was right. The fact that it was mixed doubles helped. I just relied on my partner to run down a majority of the balls. Still, by the last few games, I was dragging serious ass. But we managed to win, and I hobbled out to the car and came home. Now, from there to home was only about a ten minute drive, but honest to God, I had stiffened up like a pair of starched blue jeans by the time I pulled into the garage. I think I may need some sort of work-out plan. I'll get right on that...just as soon as I can move my legs again.