So you get up, shower, say your prayers, walk the dog and buy a coffee from the local pick ‘n steal, then you visit the sick; congratulations, you’re on task, but what next?  Get out in the field and shoot, obviously.
I chose a Glock 21 because I like it, you might favor another weapon, like a .357 Magnum and that’s fine. There’s no rule. 
Targets were simple. A steel turkey at around 50 yards, steel plates at 25 and a Gatorade bottle wherever I felt like putting it. Fine, but did I still know how to shoot? Good question.
In the end, yes, but it took about half a box of cheap Federal .45 ACP to get back in the swing of things. BOOM. Tink. Down goes the turkey and BOOM, take that, Gatorade bottle as you fly through the air. The steel plates met their match too, once I’d warmed up. Boom, tink, swing.
Satisfying and, for me at least, exciting. There’s something about the explosive power of a handgun that gets the adrenaline up, big fun. Still, if you plan on hitting your target you’d better practice. I reminded myself of that today.
Of course all this is banned in England, but not to worry, Brits. Nanny State will protect you.
Gun rights,
LSP