Tuesday I went to the weekly juggling session at work. I used to go every week, but the past few months have been only an intermittent attendee; always seems to be some good excuse.
But this time I went, and I did my usual stretches, and I tried to warm up with juggling balls but I haven't replaced the ones that disappeared from my luggage yet. (And don't get me started about United's mishandling of that situation.) So I was standing there tossing clubs around and chatting desultorily with the other jugglers, and then a new person showed up. I asked if she was there to juggle (and pointed to assorted things she could juggle if she were so inclined) and she said she didn't juggle solo but that she was there to pass. And then she pulled a trio of clubs out of a backpack that I hadn't even seen. I warned her that I was mediocre at best and that if she wanted someone who was actually good she should try one of the other people, but she didn't care.
And it was great—she was good enough to be able to deal with my sloppy throws, and her throws were good enough that I didn't have to worry about catching them, with the result that I could just relax into it, which made me better than I usually am at it. Another guy joined us, and eventually another really good guy showed up and the three of them wanted to do more advanced stuff, and I was getting tired and I managed to hurt both of my thumbs in rapid succession, so I stopped. But it was delightful; the rhythm of passing clubs with someone who really knows what they're doing is one of my favorite things.
But of course mixed in with all that throwing and catching, there was a lot of dropping, and a lot of concomitant quick squats to grab a club off the ground, and by Wednesday (even with some more stretching) my legs were pretty sore. And biking to and from work didn't exactly help with that. They were still sore Thursday, but pretty much all better by Friday.
Besides, a little soreness is a small price to pay for some good juggling.