So I think I'm an existentialism now. I've started to question the meaning of what we are doing in this life. What the point of this is.
Look outside the context of sport for a second: Isn't it bloody absurd that a bunch of men all cheers and yell and flock to watch a group of sweaty men skate around?
And what if I get injured? My identity will be stripped. People call me a hockey player - not a human being - not a person - a defenseman. I'm a fucking chess piece. A pawn. If I get injured or once I retire, that's it. I'll be replaced and forgotten.
I was in the gym training yesterday and thought of SIsyphus - the bad Egyptian Pharaoh who was condemned to push a round boulder up a large hill, then left it go once it got to the top so it would roll back down again, and he'd have to push it back up - for eternity.
That's what we do in our lives - repetitions. Rinse, lather and repeat. Wake up, eat, train, sleep. Mundane. Bleak. Pointless.