My calves are so tight that I can feel them threaten to cramp up with each step. My hamstrings are telling me the same thing.

“You’re not what you used to be.”

I played in an indoor soccer tournament this weekend. Four games. Two on Friday. Two on Saturday. Forty minute games, with two 20-minute halves. Co-ed. No girl subs.

Now, I haven’t really played a game since I moved up here from Missoula. I was dying. My heart pumping, my head vibrating from the blood, my feet were burning, and sometimes my legs just wouldn’t go.

I used to play in outdoor tournaments for twice that many minutes on fields that were 120 yards by 70 yards. That was 11 years ago.

It’s hard to believe how easy it was. I would be sore after the weekend. But it was nothing to me. I didn’t feel it for a week. I felt it for a day or two.

I could feel my age and my lack of activity this weekend. It hit me hard.

I’m not what I used to be.

You grow up and formulate an identity. In my case it was being an athlete. A soccer player. Period.

And for some reason I still envision myself as that person.

But... I’m not anymore.

No matter how much I think I am and sometimes try to be, I will never be that person again. And I think I realized that for the first time this weekend.

When I left the college soccer field the last time, I think deep down I knew that.

There’s nowhere to play high level soccer after college, unless you’re really good or you try to play in Europe.

There’s only city recreation leagues and pick-up games. It’s not the same. Sometimes it’s quality soccer and sometimes it’s not.

Frustration with other players and more often with my lack of ability to do what I used to do can sometimes takes over the passion I once had.

I changed. I started coaching kids how to play soccer to fill that spot in my identity.

And I continue to coach now. Sometimes I watch them play and want to burst onto that field and show them how it’s done.

But I guess I have to learn that I can’t —because it’s their turn to be that person. Be that athlete. Be that soccer player.

And I’ve changed who I am. Sometimes I forget.

I’m a coach.