Page 18 of Unrivaled Love
The home is built into the side of the mountain so while we don't have an upstairs there are three bedrooms downstairs, a rec room, and a little gym that will fit my needs this week, just fine.
I take my duffle with me and quickly unpack. Most of the guys live out of their suitcases on the road but I can’t. I always unpack right away. The top two drawers are full of my parent’s stuff so I use the bottom drawers and leave my bag on the top shelf of the closet. I unpack my bathroom things into the drawers.
When I’m finished, I head down to check it out and see the plastic sheeting situation continues down here so the rec room, and two of the bedrooms are blocked off. To my right is the small room with weights and a treadmill and further down the hall is the bunk room.
Standing in the door brings back all the memories from our summers and holidays spent here as kids. This was the boys room. My brother Mason, Chris Hamilton, and I got up to a lot of no good in this room. I step in and see the spot where I sailed a slapshot into the drywall which still isn't perfectly patched. We scrambled to fix it ourselves before the parents found out, because we knew our asses would get handed to us cold for playing inside.
I peek under the bunk that used to be mine and see the Katniss Everdeen poster is still there. Good. Maybe the next generation of Svobodas and Hamiltons will learn to appreciate the classic beauty of a warrior.
With a nod, and a fleeting wistfulness for days gone by, I turn off the light and walk back upstairs to the room that was my parent's growing up. It's a little weird to be in here but I'm not going to sleep in the bunk room alone. That'd be weirder.
The doorbell rings with my grocery delivery and I get the bags inside. It's basically eggs, bread, protein powder, protein bars, yogurt, and my special treat, vanilla wafers. Lunch meat and a frozen lasagna round out the order and I thank the delivery guy.
I open the cookie package and slide out a few delicate, delicious delights. Can’t hurt to leave the package open on the counter. I’m on vacation and I can have a whole package of cookies over the course of a week.
No one will ever know.
I tap my fingertips on the counter as I chew.
Welp, this is it.
I'm alone.
This is what I wanted.
I came here to relax and rejuvenate.
To sit still.
So, time to do that.
I grab my book off the table.
But my limbs feel all tingly, I don’t think I can sit and read.
I'm going to shoot pucks at the garage.
***
My forearm isn't doing much to swipe the sweat from my brow. I need to find a towel. One of my sticks from high school was in thegarage along with a bag of pucks so I've spent the last, shit, three hours, shooting at the garage.
At first it felt weird not to use a stick with the custom curve I've got now but going back to a standard issue blade also challenged my form. Once I remembered the little adjustments to make in my back swing, I was sending pucks to the pretend topshelf over and over again. Suddenly the garage light turns on and I realize the sun has set. It's south western Colorado and the sun can linger in the sky far later than it does on the east coast. I need to head in for dinner.
I select a protein bar and bring it with a glass of water out to the deck. The trees are rustling in the slight breeze and I close my eyes to listen to the nature surrounding me.
This is the time to slow down. To let my system rest. Reset. I try a deep breath but it doesn't feel like it fully fills my lungs. That's alright. I've got a week here. I'll be calm as fuck by the end of it.
I stick the wrapper into my pocket and decide to take a walk down the trail that leads to the little alpine lake nestled in the trees. A year ago I came here with the rest of my family and the Hamiltons, minus Jo. I got to swim with the kids in the lake. Take the mountain bikes out for a spin, even though I was terrified of an injury and hurting my career.
We had lost in the second round of the playoffs. In straight games. It was brutal but Dallas had our number and we couldn’t get anything going. By the time we got to the house in July I’d had two months to regroup and adjust my training plans.
Being here this year feels different. It doesn’t feel like a welcome reprieve. It feels like solitary confinement.
Part of that is being here alone, it’s weird.
Another element is half the house being under construction.
But the biggest difference is how I felt before I got on the plane this morning.
