Usually Lindsay had strong feelings about how she felt a match was going from her perspective. Usually she could say with certainty whether she thought she was playing well or not. Some thought that she was hard on herself, and while at times her insistence that she hadn't played very well seemed outright delusional, most of the time she was simply honest. This match, though? She had no idea how she was playing now. She didn't feel like she was playing badly because she didn't feel like she was playing at all. This was definitely some kind of sport, but she'd be hard pressed to call it quidditch. 

 The bludgers were nearly as elusive as the snitch on the foggy pitch, and there wasn't much to be done besides flying around and searching. She'd always thought playing Seeker would be boring. Now that she was getting her own variation on it, she knew she'd been right. Sometimes something exciting happened, but even when she and Sioni managed a fantastic maneuver it was almost impossible to see the results of their work. There was very little fulfilling about it. They may as well have been playing in the dark. Somehow, though, it was almost as exhausting, if not more exhausting, than your average match. Four hours was a long time to do anything, let alone maintain stamina and remain alert and stay fully present in your body. Lindsay's hindquarters were going numb, her bloody sugar level was slowly dropping, and she had no idea how much longer this match would go on. 

When the whistle alerted them that it was time to break, Lindsay wasted no time finding the ground and  dismounting. Her odd, stumbling walk toward the lockers made her look like she'd been battered around the knees with a club. She was just incredibly stiff, and if she even had a butt anymore she certainly couldn't feel it. Her shoulder felt okay, but she was finding it difficult to unclench her fingers. By the time she made it into the locker room she'd done a thorough assessment of her body, and though she was tired she wasn't anywhere near done. “Everyone should eat something,” she called once she was inside, planning to follow her own advice, “And stretch again.” 


we don't realize our faith in the prize unless its been somehow elusive
how swiftly we choose it - the sacred simplicity of you at my side