Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

There have been a lot of changes in my life recently. As such, I've been doing a lot of soul-searching; as pertains to rugby and otherwise. Along my "vision-quest" of sorts, I found this quote by one of the most intelligent and visionary men to ever live, Albert Einstein:

"If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things"


Sad...but essentially true. I don't think this means that we have to exclude people and things from being important in our lives...but I do think it means not denying oneself. Treat the people you love with respect and dignity, always. Along your travels toward your goals, meet people, make friends, love, live, indulge....but refuse to sacrifice yourself. There will be a lot of people who come in and out of your life - but the only one who remains through the end is yourself. Those who really care will support you - maybe not at first - but always in the end. And those who don't...well, maybe it hurts, but you have to leave them behind. Take them for what they were, for the happiness you may have shared with them at one point or another, and let them go. Turn around and run toward your dreams. Write those dreams down, make each step a means to an end, and refuse to compromise till you've nothing left...and then crawl the rest of the way.

If you don't make it, at least you've given yourself to a worthy cause - fought your best fight. And unlike so many people who refuse to take the risk, you'll know what you're truly capable of, for better or worse.

Friends, live your best life - not absent of mistakes or failures - but full of attempts and good intentions. Wish the best for others in the hope that they become challengers along the path toward your own best self. Be optimistic that others will wish the same for you, but don't depend on it. Sometimes the right choice can be a lonely one, but show me a man who survives and presses on in spite of all else, and I'll show you a man who dies with least regrets. Says Gandhi:

"Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself."


I, for one, will keep on fighting. I hope to see you there.

So it's finally sinking in. Less than 2 weeks to go and suddenly here I am with checks from sponsors rolling in, friends flying in to train, and hella sore legs from the killer workout we've been given to help us stand up against the kiwis. Suddenly, I'm realizing that in a few short days I'm going to be arriving in a place I've dreamed about since I was a kid. And I won't be on any ordinary vacation, either. How many people get to say that they've visited three different countries and both hemispheres to represent their country in anything, let alone the greatest sport on the planet!?! Sure, this isn't the end of the road. My ultimate dream is to play in the next world cup as a REAL Eagle, but for now, I'm definitely stoked about this! It's the trip of a lifetime, and even though I'm sure it will be cold, and wet, and at times damn near miserable - I can't think of a better way to spend my time.

When I think about where I started, it's pretty amazing really. Watching those old tapes of my first games partly makes me cringe, and partly makes me smile. I was just a crazy tiny kid who thought it was awesome that I'd found a sport where I actually got to hit people! And then all of the sudden somebody thought I was good, somebody else thought I had potential, and then, well...I started to believe it. I worked harder, trained harder, and then the competition got harder. Where I had been so confident as a newcomer, I learned to question myself instead. There were so many good players, so many talented athletes....and I was, well....I didn't think I was all that special. But I kept working anyways, and somehow I've made it here. There are so many things in my life that I've worked really hard to achieve, but very few actual achievements. Rugby has given me that one thing that I can truly be proud of. No matter what happens later on in my life, I'll always have these trips, and these friends, and these memories. Unlike so many other things, it's not about money, or fame, or titles, or anything else...it's just about the journey and the experience, and that's what makes this game so special.

I'll most likely be keeping tabs on this particular part of my journey via this blog....so stay tuned for the goings-on of myself and the U23 National Team as we journey to the south pacific for a taste of real rugby country.........

So I'm finally back. About a month ago the world conspired to end my bloggerness for a while, but now I should be ready to spend some time back online. I have a new laptop (a mac, no less) that I can only hope will be more reliable than the PC's of my past....

In other news, I made the New Zealand tour!!!!! The invites came out just after the NASC tournament and I was lucky enough to be among those that got one. As for the tournament itself, things went okay I suppose. Although the Midwest weren't able to take back the title, losing to Marfu by 2 in the semis, we did come back to avenge last year's loss to the West and keep our place in tier one. Both games were great matches with a lot of hard hitting, fast rugby.

The week went by pretty fast, first with lots of practices (sometimes even three in a day!), and then the games...after that I was lucky enough to spend a couple crazy days with my friends Jill and Juanita bumming around Minneapolis. I don't want to go into all the details, but lets just say that over the course of one day, we went from talking to some crazy crack dealers on a bus to sitting in a $10,000 dollar massage chair on the 32nd floor of some high rise luxury apartments.....don't ask....

When I finally made it home alive (no small feat) it was time to pack things up and get ready for Philly!! It seems that I sort of underestimated the task because I waited until the very last moment to get everything together and actually get the process underway. Since my parents had decided that the trip from Kentucky to Iowa, Iowa to Philly, and Philly back to Kentucky was just too much, it suddenly became my job to pack everything I owned into my truck, and sell or toss everything that wouldn't fit. As it turns out, a lot of stuff didn't fit..........so after many, many hours of tossing I finally had everything together and ready to go at 11pm on Saturday night. One disasterous hotel break, many rest stops, and what seems like a million hours later, I arrived in Philly at around 1:30am Monday morning....

Since then, I've settled in a bit. Everything still isn't unpacked and I'm a little overwhelmed with all that's on my plate at the moment. Life with 4 dogs and 2 people is a lot different from my previous 1 person 1 dog lifestyle. On top of that, I'm job searching, finishing online courses, fundraising for NZ, and of course, training. Somehow I'll make it all happen, but in the meantime I'll be here at the house of a thousand dogs trying to find my place in the big city....

When all the banter started across the blogs about Collegerugbyamerica and EIU's NCAA DI Varsity program, I told myself I would sort of stay on the outskirts. I've made a few comments here and there, thrown in my two cents when I just couldn't help it anymore, and otherwise laughed and sat bewildered at the insanity coming out of Collegerugbyamerica.com and from the "anonymous" comments on its behalf. But as the misinformation and blatant disrespect for club rugby have built, I have become increasingly uncomfortable with keeping quiet about my own personal experience with Eastern Illinois' rugby program, and think it's a story worth sharing with my fellow "recreational athletes".

As it turns out, about two years ago this little "hobby" that I play could have landed me a spot in Coach Graziano's set of "Student-Athletes". That's right - I, a lowly club rugby player, was RECRUITED by Eastern Illinois University and Coach Graziano himself. Interesting, seeing as how there seems to be such an adverse attitude toward club rugby coming from the EIU camp, but I digress...

As I was saying, it all started because I was looking for a new rugby home. I loved playing for Kentucky, but after having played U19's and deciding that I really wanted to push my rugby potential to the limit, I knew that I would need to move elsewhere. With the support of my Kentucky coaches, teammates, and select-side coaches, I began searching for a new college home. The only thing I knew about EIU was that they were a varsity program, and that there was a possibility of a scholarship, so naturally I shot an email their way. I listed my credentials in the "club rugby" world - U19's, Ohio U23's - and was overwelmed by the response. Much interest was thrown in my direction, and Mr. Graziano and I exchanged many emails about the prospect of playing for him. Playing for EIU meant a possible scholarship, practicing everyday, trainers, no more paying for trips, conditioning coaches...the list goes on and on. No doubt, I was excited. What I had been craving at Kentucky was an intensive rugby environment with better competition, highly skilled teammates, and an atmosphere where I would be pushed in the same way I had been while playing for the USA U19's. On the surface, EIU seemed like a great place to do that.

However, in the meantime I was also starting to feel a little less than thrilled about the prospect of leaving my home state, friends, and all the comforts of home - basically I was chickening out. I decided to shoot EIU's coach an email and tell him that I was no longer interested.....but WOW - what a response. It seems my status as a "recreational athlete" was not a deterent to the coach at this point, because he was pretty determined to keep my interest and offered to drive all the way to Kentucky so that we could chat for a few hours. He did just that. Still not sure if I was really all that into the EIU thing anymore, I met with coach and listened to his speel about free cleats and free this and free that....free, free, free. Everything, it seemed, was about money.......but at this point that wasn't such a bad thing for me because I knew my parents would be very interested in hearing that they wouldn't have to dish out a bunch of cash in order for me to transfer. I spoke about my love for rugby and my dream of one day playing for the Women's National Team, and coach simply went on about the opportunities for being a real "student-athlete", for getting academic-athletic awards, etc. At any rate, I was at least interested, and decided to set up a recruiting visit.


My parents and I made the drive across the cornfields to Charleston, IL where we were to be immediately impressed by the loads of glitter and glam surrounding the women's rugby program...NOT. Actually, we were set up in a seriously lowsly hotel (paid for by the "recruiting budget") and then made our way to a rather average looking university with rather average rugby fields and less than average facilities. Coach wore a suit and was very official and all that, but in truth, nothing about EIU was all the glamorous - and certainly not near as nice as those "hobby" fields for those "recreational" club players out at Stanford ;) . Anyways, we did the tour, we talked to professors, and yeah, we talked a bit of rugby. But nothing we talked about rugby was what I was expecting. Coach told me that I could "choose my own number" (but I thought I was a nine!?) and that when his team traveled, there would be no socializing or even talking to the other "club" team. Instead, EIU would get to use varsity facilities while the home club did not, and then would march out on the field, play the game, and leave without talking to the other players. I was also told that during the offseason (which is a LOOONG one considering EIU only plays in the Fall) I should take a break from any rugby activities and play intramural basketball and focus on other hobbies. Over and over again it was insisted that rugby is "just like every other sport". I was also told that EIU's girls players don't socialize with the men's club team because they are more suited to hanging out only with the other "Varsity" athletes. He talked about how everything should be done the same as all the other sports, and over and over again referred to how the "folks" in the USA Rugby community were backward, misinformed, uneducated about college athletics, and were creating no future for the sport....

The real kicker comes when talking about select-sides. I was not at all shy about talking excitedly about my experiences in the USA U19 program - after all, it had taken me all the way to three different countries and several states along the way - and so Mr. Graziano was clear about addressing the select-side issue with me. No, I would not be allowed in any way to participate in any USA Rugby, Midwest, or any other developmental or select-side rugby functions - nothing but EIU rugby. When considering EIU as on option, this was my number one concern, and I addressed this with the coach by reiterating it to him that my number one goal was to become an Eagle. He told me that this wouldn't have to be discussed with the other girls, but that certainly I could keep this as a personal goal (although I was told I might find it more rewarding to go into some other field after college working in NCAA athletics). I asked that if coming to EIU and effectively excluding myself from the USA Developmental Pool could have deterimental effects on my ever being selected at the higher levels. I was then told that, no, this would have no effect because for all intents and purposes there was no real player identification setup in place anyways and that "getting your name out there" in USA Rugby was not at all important. And the best part - I was also told that USA Rugby and in particular the U19's had "set me up for failure". Having given me that great opportunity, I was told that the club structure - including select-sides - had left me with no available avenues for improvement or advancement. He even suggested that the only way the situation could improve was if perhaps HE were in charge of the U19's so that he could give the girls on the team a better option (weird, considering that his players aren't even allowed to play on the U19's).

Though I can see through all of this now so clearly - having gone through the Midwest U23 program, played for Northern Iowa in two DI Sweet 16's, and having assembled with the USA U23's - at the time, I really did swallow a lot of this crap. All I wanted was to be a better player, and if this man (who seemed truly interested) was telling me that the only way I could really do that was to play for him, it wasn't such a stretch to believe it. But over the next few weeks, the more conversations we had the more questions I asked about select-sides, the less cordial the coversations became. I knew there was a possiblity of getting select to Midwest U23's that summer, and I really wasn't sure if I wanted to give that up. I kept asking questions and receiving very few answers. All that kept being emphasised was the money, that rugby was "no different from other sports," and that this was an opportunity to be a "Student-Athlete" - nothing else. Weird...because I had pretty much always thought of myself as a student-athlete.


Today, almost three years later, I am very grateful to have chosen the club path. No disrespect to any of the athletes who have chosen EIU as their home - I am very sure they work extremely hard and are very talented players. I do wish they had a chance to play select-sides and try out for developmental teams - but I suppose that is a sacrifice they made knowingly. When I finally turned down the offer to play for EIU, the response I got back was that "collegiate athletics is not for most". Really? Because I have participated in collegiate athletics for 4 years - it may not be "varsity," it may not have an NCAA logo - but I am in college, I play rugby, and for all intents and purposes that makes me a "collegiate athlete".

Now, EIU and lots of the "anonymous" bloggers out there would like to have everyone believe that because we are club and they are varsity there is some huge gap between us. Not so - I was explained in detail the training and conditioning that would be required of me at EIU, and I am certain that my personal training schedule is just as rigorous. In fact, many players across the country train 5 days a week just as they do, and some are even on mandatory National Team conditioning programs (which often require more than one training per day in addition to skills practice), and many also monitor their diets, physical health, and mental health very carefully to ensure they are training at the highest level. Lots of Olympic athletes, because they are technically amatures, also train in this same way - but no one would ever try to tell them they are participating in a "hobby" or a weekend recreation as those in the EIU camp keep referring to club rugby athletes. Also, there is no possible way to compare club rugby to the likes of club soccer or club hockey or whatever. That's because, as I've said in some of my comments, there IS NO OTHER OPTION for rugby. The best hockey players in this country are OF COURSE going to attend universities with Varsity hockey teams. However, the same cannot be said of the best rugby players in the country. The best rugby players in the country, or the best athletes seeking to play rugby were they to have a choice, might choose Penn State or Stanford or Army or New Mexico or Northern Iowa, or Ohio State, etc, etc, etc. Why? Because these are among the best teams in the country. Period. If I were a basketball player, and UK's club basketball team was the very best team in the country, that's who I'd want to play for. As it turns out, UK's Varsity basketball team is far better - so that's where I'd want to play. But not because they are Varsity, but because they are good!!!


And about this whole "rugby isn't different from other sports" stuff. Well, I guess on the surface it's not. You run, you score, there's contact, injuries, etc. But somewhere along the line something more was infused into rugby. Something that transcends state lines, country lines, gender lines, races, creeds, and cultures. You don't have to sing the songs and you don't have to drink the beer. You don't have to have to have outrageous parties or chug alcohol from a boot. All of that can come with rugby - but it certainly doesn't have to and the partying is not what I'm talking about. It's the community. There's something about the people who play and coach and support - those who work their tails off for no reason at all except for the love of the game. It's about those funny British terms like "scrum" and "knock on" and "hooker". It's about the fact that people of all shapes and sizes can play, beat the living hell out of their opponents on the field, and then be man or woman enough to shake hands and share a pint (or a pepsi) with their opposite after a game. Sure, there are those occassional enemies, but for the most part some of best friends I've ever had have been on the opposite side of the field....and the exciting part is that this trend goes all the way up to the highest level. It's encouraging to see that money has not corrupted the sport in places like New Zealand - they get more and more professional and earth-shatteringly good every year, but anyone can tell that they are still just regular ruggers at heart playing because they love it. Having read Justin Marshall's biography twice, I can attest that even in the All Blacks, songs, pints, pranks, and comraderie are still very much a part of the atmosphere - hell, Justin even claims to be very good "mates" with George Gregan! In a sport where two of the most competive scrumhalfs in the world can settle in before or after a match to have a barbeque, there must be something special going on....


So I guess the thing is, rugby doesn't have to be different than other sports. We can change it to make it more marketable and more "American"(see this Q&A). Change the numbers, change the refs, change the equipment. Hell, even change the meters to yards, call it a touchdown, change poaches to "steals" and start reporting on "runs over twenty yards"....stop the socials - even the non-alcoholic ones, and start talking about how much the same rugby is as every other sport. Maybe we'll eventually forget that we're any different - maybe girls would get scholarships and the NCAA would take over with it's big money and big rules and make things "safer" (especially when it would be women playing, because as we all know, some things just aren't safe for women)........But really - I'd rather not. I'd love to get more support from universities and possibly have Varsity women's rugby be a big thing - hell, I'd even like to coach a team one day and actually get paid - but not at this cost. Varsity rugby can happen without these changes. If the NCAA requires all this, then who needs them. The rugby community needs support and organization, and it looks to me as though USA Rugby is doing its best to provide those things. There is definite room for improvement, and I am no expert on what all is required - but I hope that someone out there can figure out a way to do it without stripping rugby of it's soul. All I know is that I love this sport. For me and so many others, there is something different, and it's added to my life in a way that no other sport - or community - ever could.

Varsity rugby or not, collegerugbyamerica and EIU are not advocating the sport I fell in love with, and they can keep it...

...but it's just because I'm busy planning out my life. Rugby and otherwise. But the exciting news is that YAY!!!! It's summer rugby time!!! I can almost smell it in the air - the grass, the dirt, the sweaty scrumcaps....*ahhh*. Summer rugby means amping up the training and amping up the intensity. Games are few and far between, but when you play, you play big - and afterwards, because you've worked so hard, you party big. It's for seeing all those rugby friends spread out all over the country - former teammates, current teammates, coaches from u19 this and u23 that. Maybe you drive in a car singing Journey songs for hours on end or maybe you hop in a jet that drops you off God knows where and suddenly, you arrive in what I like to call, "Rugby Land". It's the greatest place on Earth - only, it isn't really a place. Or at least, it's never the same place. It doesn't matter whether it's Seattle or Austin or Rockford or Philly - because wherever it is, no matter what tournament it is, you're bound to see people you love from all over the place. My most favoritest tournament happens to be the U23 NASC or ITT's or whatever you wanna call it because it seems to be the center of everything. Now the senior women have been holding their tourney at the same time so there's even more people there than before. But most of all I love it because the stakes are high. First, I'll head off to Midwest tryouts and try to wipe the dust off of the connections between myself and the teammates I haven't played with for a while, as well as forge new connections with all the rookies. Weeks of 2 a day training come together for 2 days of a$$ busting hard work, trying to prove once again that I've got what it takes to wear the Green and Gold - there are fitness tests, speed tests, tons of hard hitting drills, and of course, scrimmaging - and after it's all over all I can hope for is to have done my very best and proven myself worthy to go on to the big dance.

Making it that far is already an accomplishment - I've played in the NASC three times now (once as a USA U19er, twice as a U23 Thunderbird), and it just never gets old. Last year, though it had a disappointing ending for us MW players, was especially exciting for me because I was a starter for the first time. I played my heart out but the team fell short, so you can bet we'll be back this summer with a vengence......seriously, I can't freaking wait.

Getting back to the high stakes - ah, yes, besides really, really, really wanting to take those gold medals home, there's an underlying "try out" aspect to the whole All-Star tournament thing. When explaining rugby life to anyone outside the sport I always like to tell them that rugby is kind of like one continuous tryout. Yes, it's fun as hell, but it seems we're always being watched or evaluated for something, and for this year's NASC that will be especially true. Last year at the tournament, I was playing my heart for my team, as well as for a chance to tryout for the U23 National Team. Well, this year the prize is much greater, as the USA U23 team which goes to New Zealand will supposedly be announced sometime following the NASC. Whoa - talk about pressure. But no worries - no amount of pressure can take away my love of select-side rugby and summer rugby in general. Maybe it's just me, but I just can't think of anything better than soaking up the sun and soaking up the rugby with some of the best young players in the country...

Rugby Land - here I come!!

This is the end part of a poem I wrote a year or two ago.....the beginning part is kind of shit, but the end part feels pretty relevant right now...



Thus Fear will not impede mine striving
So much I love the beauty, pace, and pain
For it is still “The game they play in heaven”
Become I Eagle –
Or wingless self, remain.

Now that the emotional drama of Nationals is over, and school is (nearly) over, I've decided it's time to sort out where I'm going from here.

Well, let's make it official - I will be moving to Philadelphia after the U23 National All-Star Tournament and playing for the Philly Women!!! That's right, after some long hard decision making and much persuasion in many different directions from interested parties, I have decided to drag my redneck butt across the country once again, and replant myself in the city of brotherly love. This is all very exciting and extrordinarily terrifying at the same time. Let's list the positives and negatives...


Positives and Negatives of Moving to Philly:

+ I have a rugby team waiting for me
- I don't have a job waiting for me

+ I'll get lots of competition
- I might lose

+ I'll meet new people!
- New people are scary...

+ I get to live in a big city!
- Umm...hello!?! I'm a hillbilly...I might die.

+ Closer to friends and family from home
- Farther from friends from Iowa and the west

+ New challenge of playing for MARFU
- I really love playing for Midwest =(

...but in the end....

+ I'll become a better rugby player

...And that's the bottom line - Like I said, moving is scary and fun at the same time, but this is the best time for me to do it. I have no job, no prior committments, no romantic attachments - basically I'm free to restart life as I choose, and for now, I'm choosing Philly. Two years ago I made this same decision and moved to the middle of nowhere in Iowa. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made, and from that I've learned that you have to take risks to do anything in life. Anytime you get too comfortable, you're probably getting too lazy, and that is certainly not what I want - in rugby OR life.


So here I go - two more months of life in the Midwest before I take a big jump into the real world - *Deep Breath*

Here I go....

So as you probably know, my team traveled to DI Nationals in Florida last weekend and made it to the elite 8. We fell in the second round to a determined UC Davis side, and despite the disappointment of losing, it was an overall great weekend. I am officially done with college rugby now, and will be looking forward to my move to the world of "big girl" in the fall.....more details to come on that, but in the meantime, here are some pictures from Florida, and also from Midwest LAU's.....


This one is from LAU's vs. Wisconsin......I'm loving the cool angle on the photo, not sure how I never saw the photographer out on the field, though.

Pre-game huddle in Gainesville.

Ummm...I look pissed off and tired.

Here I am enjoying my favorite hobby - scrumhalf hunting =)

Photo after UNI's first win at DI Nationals over Appalachian State. I'm in front doing a totally awesome cheerleader pose with Mulf.

I had a couple of good games this weekend. Nothing spectacular, except that I felt like my conditioning has vastly improved. I was able to talk and direct the whole time without getting winded, as well as making it to the rucks, make my passes, tackle, and have a few runs. It felt good to be out there in some dry weather and really see what I could do - but I know I have a ton of work left...so no celebration here.

Nationals is up next. I have just 3 workouts (2 if I don't make it to the gym wednesday morning) and a practice to fine-tune myself before leaving for the big dance.....so, I guess you could say I have my work cut-out for me. I'm planning a strength workout for tomorrow, with some crossfit "metcon" workouts on tuesday and wednesday morning. I also want to get some passing sessions in everyday - a little work with the weighted ball might be good too.


This is kind of a short, straight to the facts sort of post, but there are a lot of things on my mind right now and I'm feeling a bit subdued. There is just so much work to be done it's all a bit overwelming. I'm trying to set some goals and see where I can go from there, only time can tell I suppose.

Love Song


My boots play a symphony of clicks,
Singing
An insatiable thirst
For freshly painted Earth.

As they reach the threshold,
They drink the sky first;
Snagging pieces of the blue on their way down,
Till their teeth
Slice against green blades
And chew the face of springtime
Into a mess of sweaty bliss.


The aroma of battle glistens on their fervent faces –
Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Till the whistle blows,
The ball flies,
And those boots of mine give chase to tell me:

We are in love.

So we finally know all the teams in our pool!!!

Saturday, April 21st, Gainesville, FL:

Univ. of Northern Iowa vs. Appalachian State

and

Virginia vs. UC Davis


I've never played against any of these teams, so I really don't know what to expect, except hard fought rugby. It's certainly a decent pool, now we just have to see what we can do with it...

We have Midwest U23 LAU's this weekend in the COOOOLD. Not the best thing to prepare for 85 degree heat, but that's life I suppose. I'm excited to see some of my friends from Kentucky and Ohio as they travel up to Iowa Falls this weekend for the U23 event...and then excited to see even more friends down in Florida next weekend!

As for my whole crossfit/nutrition approach, I'm feeling great right now! More details on my workouts and progress to come........

That was pretty random, I know. But I have had a very inspiring past few days, and I would like to share my inspiration with the masses.

First of all, to report on my condition after having completed crossfit workouts on Thursday and Friday, I would like to say that I am still slightly sore, but feeling as strong and healthy as ever. Tonight, I am going to do a workout of theirs styled slightly different than the others -

Crossfit warmup:
3 rounds of 10-15 reps of
Samson Stretch (do the Samson Stretch once each round for 15-30 seconds)
Overhead Squat with broomstick
Sit-up
Back-extension
Pull-up
Dip

Then, the workout:

15, 12, 9 rep rounds of
backsquat
handstand pushups (I can't do these the right way, so I will prop my feet up against the wall)

In order to keep up with my speed training, I will do the agility, speed portion of my footworkcamp workout before the crossfit thing.

I've also decided I'm going to do at least the crossfit warmup on Tuesday mornings before I do my shuttle training, and then on Wednesday I will do a more traditionally styled workout involving olympic lifts, front squats, bench press, etc. As well as some of the "ass-fire"moves I learned at footworkcamp.

Then Thursday I will only do short sprint training in order to not remain sore by Saturday.


The key to all of this, of course, is not to overtrain - a chronic problem of mine. However, upon being completely honest with myself, I've realized this:

I have never trained too much, I've only rested too little. And that's my fault. Wasting time on things like television, internet, going out when I shouldn't, etc - just generally drain my day of productive time. What I SHOULD be doing is getting the real life stuff out of the way so that I can have a real estimate of how much time remains for things like training, resting, spending time with friends and recreation. Easier said than done, but I am going to really work at it over these next few weeks and see if it can help me get through Nationals without completely draining myself.

Hence my motto of late,

"Less obsession, more focus"


I obsess A LOT. About a lot of things. Which is fine, sometimes - it can be a catalyst for working harder and concentrating on my goals. But overdone, it prevents me from stepping a way and giving my brain a rest in order that I get the other things done in life that allow for me to attain my goals. When I suddenly hit a brick wall that forces me to confront real-life obstacles, I stress, forget about nutrition, rest, and training, and just generally self-destruct. On average, it takes about 1-2 weeks to recover from such disaster. This type of cycling just CAN'T happen.

I've also realized something else about myself. I love training. I would love to help other people train. So, why then, am I looking for jobs behind a desk that would entail me doing more of the things I hate on a daily basis, wearing clothes I'm uncomfortable in, and talking to people I'm uncomfortable around??? WHY? Well, because I have a degree that says "English" on it. But so what, I'm educated - great. I will always love to write and I hope that I can eventually find a way to make at least a supplementary income off of it. But I've decided I'm going to take seriously the possibility of working as a trainer as a source of income. If you're good enough, you'll get paid enough. So I guess my goal is to get certified, and get my own personal fitness at a place where others will BELIEVE I'm good enough.

This is all a lot of ranting and raving - and I'm sure a lot of the spunk I've got in my step will subside with Monday morning blues. But as my graduation date creeps closer, I've realized I don't want to be stuck in any kind of rut for the rest of my life. I'm sick of doing what mommy and daddy and friends expect me to do. I don't want to "follow the path of least resistance". I want to make enough money to support myself and my rugby "habit", and I want to be happy. If that requires working behind a desk at times, then so be it. But I want to be writing things that I believe in, and I want to help other people improve their lives through athletic pursuits.

Following along those lines, I recommend everyone check out the site, http://www.gymjones.com/ . Particularly, the "Knowledge" section. I discovered through a search as to how the actors of the movie "300" acquired their level of fitness, and my search led me to Gym Jones. Don't get too excited, however. This gym is apparently not open to the public, and only trains people by invitation only. They use the same techniques found at Crossfit, but apply their own self-proclaimed "fight club" philosophy to it. The founders are mostly mountain climbers, and they know what it means for your life to depend upon fitness. I find their dedication inspiring, and their refusal to conform, refreshing.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

Till then, Rugby Love

-KY

Oh, this is a video off the crossfit website....and it is maybe the most hardcore thing I have ever seen. Seriously, I want to be this girl - check it out HERE


If that link doesn't work, then copy and paste this address in your address bar:

http://media.crossfit.com/
cf-video/fran-greg_annie.w
mv

First of all, my apologies for locking the blog. I was undergoing some decision time as to whether or not I was going to continue recording my day to day rugbyness. See, I kind of tend to be an up and down sort of person - really big ups, really big downs, and constantly striving to be somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I have a hard time censoring what should go out for all the world to see, and what I should keep in my head. But, since I don't think I've written anything too regretable thus far, since writing might help keep me a little honest, and since some people were up in arms that this thing was blocked (steve), I suppose I'll keep at it and see how things go...



In other news, life has gone back to its regular hectic but liveable place. I've caught up on my schoolwork, spent some time with Brutus, and...YESSSS gotten back to my regular workouts.

Let's see, tuesday I ran stairs with the team (on like one hour of sleep - I had to keep thinking about Navy Seals training just to get through it), on Wednesday I did footworkcamp.com agility/lifting workout, and TODAY I did this way awesome thing called crossfit !

Let me just tell you, I am WAY excited about this crossfit thing - it's from a site I came across a few months ago - I think I actually heard about it first on some rugby players Rugby Magazine interview, so I checked it out. It's basically a varying high intensity program that has a lot of bodyweight involvement. For example, the prescribed workout I did tonight was:

3 rounds for time of:

12 muscle ups (basically doing a pull up and then pulling yourself over the bar to do a dip at the top)
30 back extensions
400 meter run

Since I cannot do a muscle up, and since I want to be able to move my arms tomorrow, this being the first time I've ever done this, I scaled it down a bit:

3 rounds of:

12 assisted pull-ups
12 dips
30 inverted sit-ups (i didn't have a place to do back ext)
400 meter run

Let me tell you, these arms are FRIED!!! And running 400 meters after doing all that stuff was brutal - I was definitely on the verge of puking on my last trip around. I wish I would have had a watch to time myself, but I couldn't find it. It would be nice to know though, so as to keep track of progress. At any rate, I'm definitely going to try to put this in my program for a while and see how it goes - I would love to work my way up to doing all of this without using any assistance on the pull-ups, and eventually doing the whole muscle-up thing...but I'm gonna take it one step at a time.....here is my weekly plan for inseason training:

Monday: crossfit metcon workout
Tuesday: shuttles, scrumhalf passing, and practice
Wednesday: Agility/Olympic lifting/free weight workout (what I've been doing already)
Thursday: sprints/agility and practice
Friday: rest
Saturday: is a rugby day
Sunday: rest

Of course, things will change a bit if there is a sunday game as well, but I will work with that as it comes, and depending on how I'm feeling...

I'll also try to report on whether or not I am walking around like an elephant ran over me tomorrow...because there is a pretty damn good chance I'm going to be hella sore. At any rate, if you decide to check out the crossfit thing but get confused at the huge overload of information, just check out some of the FAQ sections on the side, or give me a shout, as I've looked through it so much I think I pretty much have everything down by now. Also, I'd like to mention that there seem to be a ton of rugby players (lots of boys from california) in the crossfit community who have given rave reviews...hopefully they are right!


Since I'm trying to be very committed to my reading for this last bit of school in order to avoid undue stress, I'm going to have to say farewell for the evening. It's off to read the ever-so-interesting 19th century courtship novel, "The Story of an African Farm"....woo-wee what a thursday evening!

Rugby Love,

Kentucky

Fine, I'll admit it. I've been avoiding the blog. Avoiding it at all costs, in fact. I wouldn't even visit other people's blogs because I thought it would remind me of this one...

What would I write? What could I write??? I mean, in a training sense, I didn't just fall off the horse, I killed the horse. After Memphis, I decided I needed a little breather. I was tired in training, so I took the advice of a friend, set my boots aside for a few days, and caught a jet to England. That was, well...that just was. I managed to find a few mornings to run around on a football pitch while I was there, but mostly I was hanging out with a close high school friend and checking out the countryside (FYI, Dover is way super cool). At any rate, that was that, it was probably a healthy rest, and I was hoping to come back ready to hit the gym and pitch.

School had other ideas...

Basically, school has been kicking my ass. My week would go something like this (starting with saturday because, well, i like it best)

Saturday - rugby game
Sunday - rugby game, drive home, sleep
Monday - go to class, stay up all night writing a paper
Tuesday - go to class, practice, read
Wednesday - FINALLY get to lift, class, stay up all night writing a paper
Thursday - class, practice, study for a test
Friday - class, sleep, prepare for rugby
Saturday - Rugby game
Sunday - two papers to write....etc

Anyways, I could repeat that for 3 weeks, but I think you get the picture. In fact, at this very moment, I should be in class, but the night before last I had two papers to write and didn't sleep at all, then went to class, and then went straight to practice where we ran stairs. I was able to get up this morning to lift, but it was pitiful. My numbers have gone down in everything, I haven't been eating right, and I'm SOOO tired.

However, the worst of it is over (for the moment) and I'm gonna have a bit of breathing room to try to get myself together. There has to be some way to make school and rugby work together, I just have to be very careful about how I use my time. I am a procrastinator through and through, so it's hard for me to start on a paper or any assignment until the night before it is due - in fact, I don't think I've ever written a paper ahead of time - but this time, I'm making a committment to try. I'm staying in from class today so that I can catch up on all my reading assignments, catch up on sleep, and be ready to come into the world a little refreshed tomorrow.

I have to admit, this has all been very frustrating. It's really painful to be able to literally see yourself growning weaker (I write down all my lifting stats every session). I had done so well, earlier this year - improving my 40, getting a lot stronger, improving my passing.......it was soooo much FUN! And now, well, though my conditioning is decent, everything else has just fallen off the track. But I suppose I can't give up that easily - Nationals is just a few weeks away, and I really need to commit to taking life seriously for a bit - I can manage rugby and school, I just have to get my act together and get things done ahead of time.

So this is me committing to be, well....just not to give up. There are times for committing to save the world, and there are times to commit to just staying afloat - this is one of those stay afloat moments. Once I'm there, then I'm gonna doggie paddle like hell to get back to shore and back in my old (and very sorely missed) routine.

wish me luck...

Okay, so God may have been spiting me (because he does that) for not keeping my lenten promise of no television watching...I know, I know, I said I could do it but I just, well....I'm human, okay!!?! And I really like tv.

Anyways, I think the result of this breakage of promises resulted in a mandatory loss of my laptop for freaking ever. AND THEN, when I finally did get my laptop back, it still didn't f-ing work. So then they told me the charger was broken, so then I sent away for a new charger tip to work with my old laptop's universal charger...but then that was taking too long, so then I decided to get the viruses off of my old laptop so I could use it in the meantime - they told me it would take three days - but it really took a week, and in a bitter twist of fate, the new tip that goes to my new laptop, but which has to be used with my old laptop's charger, came in the mail.....only the charger it worked with was with my old laptop at Best Buy.......damn. So basically I was without a home computing aparatus for like, a month..and it was making me hella crazy. Rest easy though, because now I'm back for good =)



On to the rugby -

Okay, so the Memphis games I played in for Midwest U23's were like a million years ago, but here's the gist of it.......the games were definitely a mismatch and we won by way too much, but the good news is we had an AMAZING group of athletes that I can't wait to play with again, and against much tougher competition. If everyone comes back in shape and ready to go for Blaine this summer, the midwest just might be back in business for another championship =)


Aside from Memphis, my UNI team just had its first rugby weekend of the season!!! We traveled to St. Paul, MN on Saturday morning where we enjoyed a clinic with the Twin City Amazons. Though our UNI squad had never really done anything like that with a women's club team, I would have to say that the experience was a success - especially for our pack. There are a lot of technical components to scrumming, lineouts, etc that our forwards just don't get enough exposure to at a normal practice, and it was great for them (and for me, since the success of a pack directly influences the success of a scrumhalf) to get a chance to learn from a few old pros...

That night was also pretty nice, as we were treated to free food and lodging by the 'Zons. Ten of us stayed in the same place as myself that night, where we were treated to nice rooms with beds, blankets, tv's, and even a breakfast casserole in the morning! I also had a chance to spread love for the ever popular party trick - the inside out roll (aka sushi roll). Basically, it involves sitting with your bottoms of your feet together while holding your feet in your hands, rocking backwards while manuvering until your arms are now outside of your knees and you are rolled out on your stomach - all while never letting go of your feet: Those of you who've never seen this performed - you're missing out, because it is definitely a good time.


However, all fun rugby nights must come to an end, and with the festivities over, Sunday morning was when the "business" of our trip began. We traveled up to St. Cloud to play the Minnesota Under-23 All-Stars, and it turned out to be a hell of a match. Several familiar faces were on the opposing side of the pitch - and all of them were very good players. So much so that I think it caught the team a little off-guard and left us down by 2 trys at the end of the first half. It took a lot of digging, but somehow we managed to come back pull off the win...but it definitely wasn't the most flawless of performances...

Although, I suppose that's the way things go for the first match of the season, and we'll have time to patch up any holes before we have to take off for Nationals. As for myself, I notice that when I get in games, my pass gets significantly weaker than when I'm practicing on my own...I'm not sure what exactly I'm doing differently, and it's pretty frustrating, but I guess all that I can do is to keep at it at practice and hope that eventually my repetitions translate into a better performance on the pitch. Other than that, I felt pretty confident about my play - trying a few kicks that weren't complete disasters, and taking one or two runs when I got the chance. Our pack was definitely a bit on their heels, though, and when that happens I'm always curious as to what that's supposed to mean for me - does that mean I'm less responsible for the mistakes I make when it's because I'm not protected??? Does it mean I'm being a bad leader??? I would like to think that as a scrumhalf there are some things that I could do when things are getting disheveled in my forwards, and I think that's a part of my game I'd really like to improve upon...

Hmmm...I suppose that's something to think on. At any rate, that's my update of rugby life since I've been blog-absent, and the bed is calling my name. I promise more coherent and less pointless topics of conversation in the future =)

Okay, so I know I've been a TERRIBLE blogger, but my laptop still isn't fixed - hopefully by the end of this week, and then I will be back on all the f'n time!!!

In the meantime, all kinds of exciting rugby things are on the horizon. I had a great time in England, and I have come back refreshed and ready to dive into the season. We had our first outdoor practice yesterday, and seriously, I think there' s just something amazing about going out there and getting dirty after a LOOOOONG winter! And you know what, I think tackling seriously wards off depression. I mean, really...I think EVERYONE should at some point in their life experience tackling someone, even if it's just some random drunken antic - it's just so empowering and, well, FUN! So yeah, I went to practice yesterday really stressed out and not feeling so hot, but after getting out there in the fresh air and putting my shoulder into somebody and feeling what it's like to be out there on the grass again, I felt amazing!!!

This weekend we have our first UNI game of the season, against the Minnesota U23's. On Saturday the Amazons are being kind enough to put us up and also to host a little clinic for us, that should be especially beneficial for our forwards, who haven't been able to do much scrum work considering the indoor practices we've been holding.

Also, I'm in the process of making a lot of big girl decisions about my whereabouts after college. It's really tough to sink your teeth into the real world for the first time, but I think I'll be able to make the right decision because the rugby people of the world have been so helpful.

I have to be getting back to my apartment now because I'm pretty much starving to death (that's what sucks about not having a computer next to my couch anymore - I can't EAT and type at the same time). Like I said, I hope to have my laptop up and running VERY soon, and to reinstate myself as an active blogger!

Rugby Love,

Kentucky

Okay, so I know I haven't been writing. And I suck. But really, I have good reasons!!!

Numero Uno -

My laptop is still broken. Or, more correctly, my laptop has returned, completely fixed.....but now the charger is broken and because I was way stupid and got an off-brand laptop, I now have to wait another week for a friggin charger. Great.

Numero Dos -

It's been a busy week - trip to memphis (I still need to write about it), midterms, papers....and arggg...not much time for trips to the computer lab in order to feed my blogging habit.

Numero Tres -

I'M GOING TO ENGLAND!!!! Yeah, I know! Crazy! I just booked my ticket on friday, which was made available to me by a very kind set of parents who have an ungodly amount of dividend skymiles just waiting to be used for random transatlantic flights. Sooo...yeah, I had no plans for Spring Break as of Thursday morning...and as of Friday morning I had a ticket to London - SWEEEEET!!!

This will be my fourth trip (once for highschool, once with parents, once with U19's) and now I will be going to visit one of my best friends who now lives there with her husband and attends art school. Unfortunately it will be a fairly short trip - just four full days of Englishness...but very fun nonetheless. I am starting to feel like a regular world traveler these days, and I am very excited to be able to do my regular running drills out on the grassy countryside near my friend's cottage, and to explore the towns of Canterbury and Rochester. Yay!

Anyways, I have to go to catch my flight!!!

Cheers!

Okay...so I will get to the details of my Memphis trip very soon (way fun), but for now I'm busy and have mucho homework to do before practice tonight. In the meantime, I thought I'd throw some more poetry out into the world. My assignment was to write a poem about a piece of art on campus - there was one called "Breaking Front" in the English building, which featured an Iowa landscape - basically sky, corn, and some clouds - very "Iowan", probably a comfortable view of home for most of the students here...this sort of inspired me to write about my home - so here it is...


I promise to write about rugby and Memphis soon!!! Stay tuned..


Painting Home

It's a picture seen a thousand times,
Corn and sky
Corn and sky
Illuminating with each stoke
Not the colors that soak the canvas
But the missing hues of home.

How far before golden fields give way
To the dark and dusty hills of home?
How far before hollows
Become hollers
And creeks become cricks?
Before horses stand in place of cornstalks
And tobacco leaves
Sit, toxic in the sun
To be enjoyed later as a
Buzz
In the cheek or a burn in the lungs -
Where bourbon flows like water
Through veins which
Bleed as blue as the grass
Where Rupp's cathedral
Holds it's Mass

These are the colors of my life:
Greens and browns and
Wildcat Blues

Let those greens be painted over gold
And earthy browns rise up to
Shrink the vast expanding sky


Let Breaking Front frame
The lives of Others -

And I will paint my own way home.

So what do you get for buying a "military grade" drop-resistant, spill-resistant, built-like-a-mother-fing-tank of a laptop???

Well...one that breaks, of course. To be fair, the actual laptop didn't break. In fact, since I've probably knocked it off of my coffee table a billion times and spilled more than one giant glass of water all over the keys, I can attest that it is, indeed, a sturdy piece of hardware. However, one little glitch in the design: On one of those drops, my tank of a laptop must have landed squarly on the little charger plug that plugs into the side, which in turn must have broken the little connector thing inside of the plug-in hole that allows my laptop to be charged. For a while, I've simply managed to jiggle the cord until it was charging, and then would try my best not to move it so that the battery would stay full. Unfortunately, the jiggle method refused to hold out any longer. Yesterday, I watched in helpless horror as my little electronic friend counted down its last bits of battery power, unable to be recharged....*sigh*

I took it to Best Buy today and spent a hefty sum for it to be sent off to service land, not to return for many weeks....at least three - maybe five, said the man. Ughh. Right now I'm using the "office center" of my apartment complex, but to get here I have to either get in my car and drive an annoying block and a half, or risk my ass walking across the three inches of ice that cover every surface in Cedar Falls, Iowa. I am SO ready for spring. SO READY.

Luckily, I have one bright spot left in my world for the week - I'M GOING TO MEMPHIS THIS WEEKEND!!!! This kid = waaay excited.

Not only am I making a brief return to my beloved South, but I'll be playing rugby. And not only will I be playing rugby, but it will be WARM there!!!! YESSSSSS.... South, Sun, and Scrums - definitely a great way to spend a weekend. I'll have to dust off my cowboy hats and rebel flag belt buckle, and ripped up jeans. And I'll have to make a point to listen to some Elvis music and talk to my Kentucky buddies and my grandma to prepare my voice for the accent shift - although, I'm fairly certain I'll need no prep time..

Anyhow, on the rugby side of things I can't wait to get out there and see how the changes in my training will translate to the field - I guess you could say I'm expecting big things from myself. I can be my own worst enemy sometimes, so I'll to remember to take it each play at a time, and not to get discouraged if I feel a little rusty at first. However, I'll have my fave flyhalf for the weekend, so if that doesn't get me excited, nothing will. A great flyhalf can turn an errant pass into a spectacular play, and what #9 couldn't use that kind of help from time to time??



Well, I had better get off of here and trudge back over the frozen tundra to my apartment. I may not get to write again before I leave due to the inconvenience of no longer having the internet constantly at my fingertips. Hopefully I'll be able to figure out some laptop solution soon. At any rate, I'll be sure to give a full report some Tennessee rugby upon my return.

Cheers!

Here's the deal - I'm Catholic. And apparently, Catholics do this thing called lent. You know, that thing where on one random tuesday girls in Louisiana show their boobs for beads, followed the next day by some weird ritual where ppl run around with black stuff on their foreheads and propose to "give up" something until Easter. Well, call me a bad Catholic, but I've never given up anything. My parents seem to always give up a food - one year it was ice cream, one year popcorn...stuff like that. My friends - even my non-Catholic friends - always seemed to find something to give up as well.

Normally, I balked at the idea because I thought the whole concept of their "sacrifice" was kind of cheesy. I mean, c'mon - popcorn? And the whole idea that you can't eat meat on fridays, but then churches filled with fatties chow down on delicious fried fish instead...is that REALLY a sacrifice? And I bet all the fish are swimming around wondering..."okay, so I'm not a plant. But apparently I'm not an animal either!?!". Catholics of the world, I have an announcement to make: FISH IS MEAT!!! They are swimming, breathing, little creatures. They look like animals, they act like animals, and when you kill them, cook them, and eat them, they TASTE like animals. Fish is meat, so you can't give up "meat" and eat fish instead. Have a get-together with macaroni salad and PB&J sandwiches if you want - but don't have fish and say you are giving up "meat". Maybe say you're giving up "land animals" if that makes you feel better...but seriously - Fish is meat. Amen.


Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I would like to get to my real point. Having finally gotten over my bitterness of the fish issue, I decided that this year I would actually attempt to give up something. But what? I haven't been drinking at all, and if I do, it would be after our alumni game which is pretty much the funnest thing in the world...so that's a no go. I already don't drink pop, the only sweets I have serve as my once a week treat.............okay - foods and beverages seem to be off the table. Someone last night suggested that instead of giving something up perhaps I should "add" something - like volunteer time...but I really don't have much time as it is...

So then I got to thinking - what is it that takes up my time that I don't ABSOLUTELY need. The dreaded answer - Television. Especially on the weekends, that sucker draws me in and suctions my ass to the couch for hours on end. It's also the main reason that I don't get my reading done for classes, and a contributer to staying up too late at night.......but I LOVE tv. I mean, Real World, ESPN, Fox News, Late Shows, Dr. Phil, Man vs. Wild, the History Channel....it's just all so amazing. And sometimes, you just need some background noise, you know? Yet, mi amor for television proves that it is the perfect sacricial lamb for this lenten season, and I'm betting giving it up will free up a lot of extra time for things like reading, cleaning, writing, and spending time with Brutus. Yes. It is decided - tv (or at least most of it) must go.

Here is my official proposal which has gone into effect as of this morning: I am allowed one show per week - Grey's Anatomy. To prevent myself from being tempted to watch other things, I am actually returning my digital cable box today (subscription $50 a month) and downgrading to the $12 per month basic cable (22 crappy channels). HOWEVER - I just ordered Setanta Sports on the ITVN internet-based channel subscription thing which should arrive in a couple of days. I will allow myself to watch as much rugby as desired, because hey, that's educational!!!

So basically, I'm not giving up tv, I'm giving up cable. If I succeed in only watching that one show per week - so 1 hour of cable television - that's probably down from about 45+ hours per week. Add in a few hours per week of rugby games, and I'll still have about 40 hours of time that will now be entirely free of the boob tube. What will I do with that time?? Hmmm.....blog maybe?? haha...hopefully I'll read and spend more time with my puppy. Time will tell....

At any rate - good luck with all your lenten sacrifices and whatnot. I'll let you know how the new anti-cable Kentucky is doing in a few days...


And P.S......Fish Is Meat - spread the word.

Our first Prez turns 275 today, so I just thought I'd give him a shout-out. George Washington was a pretty cool guy, helping us win the Revolutionary War and all...we owe a lot to all those who have risked their lives so that we can live ours so comfortably. And mad props to a guy who rejected the idea of being a king of America so that he could be the first President of the United States.

Way to go, GW - and Happy Birthday!!

Alright...so not really. But today was pretty shatty. Let me rant...


Since we're speaking of puppies, let me just say that the fact that I have one is causing real problems in my rental life. Actually, the puppy isn't a problem, but my stupidity is. I was convinced by some friends that I could keep my dog in this house she wanted us to live in. She told me the landlord was really old and wouldn't notice, and for whatever reason, I believed her. Then when we went to sign the lease, he very clearly told us no pets, but I was told to keep my mouth shut and for some God-awful reason I succumbed to peer pressure and signed the stupid paper anyways.

WELL...I then proceeded to freak out, and told her there was no way we could keep a "secret dog" for however many months. Plus, now i'm not even sure how long I'm going to be living here. After three days of stress, I called the old man and tell him this story about how my parents want me to move home and I cannot live there anymore - is there anyway to get out of the lease. To which he replies "Oh no, sweetie...You'll just have to pay the money anyways, sorry." GREAT...great. F#!*ing great.

He then tells me that IF I can find someone else he will switch over the lease agreement. Better...but this means that until I find someone, I cannot plan a life, so everything is in a state of seriously painful limbo. I think my heart rate has sped up by about 50 extra beats per minute, I can't eat, and I've barely been able to sleep. If I can't find someone, then I'll have to find a job JUST for the rent, because I cannot -CANNOT- tell my parents about my stupidity, or they would take my dog away and make me live there anyways.

Me = Unhappy.

Me = Nauseous.

Me = One Giant Migraine.

Me = Stupidest Girl EVER.


I think I'll go run with some scissors now...

Okay, so the 5.4 could have been a messed up time, but the good news is - I'm still the 5.5-5.6 range!!!!

Last night at practice, AFTER we had done a bunch of drills and I was pretty much drained, I still managed to pull off a 5.63!!! My legs were also pretty sore from front squats the day before, so I KNOW I can do better. Best of all, this confirms that there has truly been an improvement in my 40 times....My time at the beginning of last summer was a 6.13, SOOO slow! Since then, it seems I have improved by about a half-second or more!!!

I am so thankful that I have found the programs and the people who have helped me do this...and I'm glad I put in the time and effort to make it happen. Basically, if you are having trouble with your speed (or even if you aren't and just want to improve!), then I HIGHLY recommend Julie McCoy's footwork camp. I truly believe that it has been her program that has added the final element to the speed work I had already been doing, and allowed me to break through whatever barriers I was experiencing with form and explosiveness...

I'm going to continue to try to widdle precious increments off of those times. It's a good feeling not to be the slow kid anymore =)

I can't really tell you why I'm writing about this right now. It's a story I've been thinking about blogging for a while but just hadn't gotten around to it, and well, since I'm finally feeling semi-rested and have no pressing deadlines for the evening, I thought I might as well get it off my chest. So hear goes.

Once upon a time I lived in a little town called Pikeville, KY. There are about 6,500 people that live there, and at the heart of that little town is a little school. It's an "independent" school system - which basically means it's not private but people outside the city limits can go there if they pay a hefty tuition, and there is a completely separate school board than that of the county schools. For whatever reason, this makes us better than everyone else. "We Are - Pikeville!" - I can still hear our 3-time National Champion cheerleaders say as they lead us in our most arrogant cheer - one that we'd usually wait to use until we had thoroughly humiliated an opponent. It seems pretty innocent but,"We Are - Pikeville (and you sure as hell aren't)" is a more accurate depiction of its meaning.

So, this arrogance I'm describing - the priviledge of being a Pikevillian - a Panther - it didn't come out of thin air. Sure, some of it comes from the money: back in the 70's a lot of coal miners struck it rich and moved out to the "big town" of pikeville, buying up land and property and businesses. The people who owned the land and the people who sold the mines became sort of old money figures, and their children became mostly doctors and lawyers. Most stayed here and circulated the money around even more, meaning that by the time I came around the school parking lot was populated by quite a rich array of new mustangs, big chevy trucks, expensive suv's, and even a few bmw's. As for myself, I drove a Jeep Wrangler - sort of middle of the road. But not all of the Pikeville aura came from being the rich kids living in the middle of one of the poorest counties in America (mother Theresa has actually visited the area) - the other story is sports...

The focus of Pikeville existance is, was and ever shall be the three time State Champion Panther Football Team - 1987, 1988, and 1989. Sure, I didn't start kindegarten until 1990, but no matter. By the time I made it to junior high/high school the tradition was still alive and well. Some of the old players from those years were now the coaches, and so it goes that the boys of autumn were constantly working their buts off to begin another dynasty. With all this blood, sweat, and pride swirling around, there was more than enough Panther Pride left to go around to the other sports. Grow up in an environment where the athletes are heroes (think Varsity Blues, Remeber the Titans), and you're gonna want to be one of them.

Since I'm well, a girl, and my mom had forbidden me from ever entertaining the idea of playing football (she now loves to tell how I am secretly exacting revenge for this by playing rugby), my hopes and dreams rested on a different, but equally worshiped sport - basketball. Now maybe Pikeville isn't the basketball capital of the world - but Kentucky IS. Ever hang around Lexington during march? Ever drive through the bluegrass on I-75 and notice an overwelming number of blue Wildcat license plates?? Ever seen footage of Rupp Arena during a home game??? I have to tell you, the feeling - no, the religion - that is University of Kentucky basketball is something that is indescribable to an outsider. If you just pass by and look in, you'll think you're seeing insanity. But if you are one of the crazies, then you know it's pure love. And that was me growning up. I loved basketball, and I loved being a Pikeville Panther. We are Pikeville. I Bleed Blue.

Basically this meant one thing for me: I was going to be a basketball player. I was going to be one of the "heroes" on the local Friday Night Highlights and my picture was going to be plastered all over the sports page of the local newspaper. I was going to lead my team to a 15th region championship, and when I was done I was going to head west toward "Lex-Vegas" and make my name as a Wildcat. I made this promise to myself every day. I still remember those promises. And I especially remember the day they were finally broken.

Okay, so let's just say that things didn't go exactly as planned. Even starting out as young as 5th grade I started to notice that some things surrounding basketball didn't seem quite right. The best players didn't always play, and parents seemed to be insanely over-involved. Quarrels often broke out between parents and coaches when bobbie sue or susie jane didn't get the playing time she "deserved", and under the table "booster" club deals were rampant. Basically, playing time depended on who your mommy and daddy were, how much money they made, how much of it they gave to the boosters, and whose parties they attended on Saturday night. Pretty much a raw deal for little kids. And Junior high didn't go much better. It was a husband and wife team, and, as usually goes for me, the husband loved me but the wife - not so much. My parents had stayed out of the political mumbo-jumbo (as they should) and so my case was rarely fought for. There was no pressure to play me, and so I only played what was necessary. One particular night of bureaucratic bullshit occurred in my Eighth grade year. I had become a starter, and one night before a game, a 6th grade teammate of mine has asked to start because we were playing her former school. Naturally, I was the one who was asked by the coaches to sit out as a "generosity". Much later, my senior year, the husband of this coaching duo offered me endless apologies for the way I was treated and begged my forgiveness. I wish I could say the same for others...

When I finally made it to the high school team - JV and Varsity - it seemed like a whole new world. My coach was a former UK player and though she intimidated the hell out of me, I respected her more than any woman alive. She had pretty good ideas on the game of basketball, and clearly loved the game. Slowly, though, I began to realize she didn't care for me so much. I never really said anything or did anything. I just became that girl who worked really hard but stayed in the background out of fear. Those who know me now probably can't imagine this. These days, I make a special point to get to know my coaches and pick their brains about the game and improvement and all that. I tried that with this coach - we'll call her Coach Shaney - but it didn't really matter. It was clear that there was a hierarchy of things that was beyond my control. Before my younger teammates and I were even allowed to step foot on the Varsity floor, we were being specifically groomed to the coach's liking. Weaker players (with popular mommies and daddies) were being worked to death for improvement, while others like myself were all but ignored.

Now fast forward to Junior year: This was my time. I had waited through my sophomore year when all the older girls were still in control of the court. But now, I thought...NOW it'll be my time. Now all that was left was one senior player, a bunch of sophomores and freshman, and I was the lone junior. The summer before team practice sessions started I had worked my ass off. My parents had hired me both a personal trainer and a private basketball coach. I had improved all aspects of my game by 110% and absolutely could not wait to get out on the floor and show what I could do. All I needed was a little game experience, some confidence, and I just knew that I could shine. Especially on defense - in practice scrimmages I could strip the ball from anyone. I couldn't wait.

Unfortunately, in the weeks before the first practice I had gotten a terrible case of bronchitis and had run through the coughing in order to place in the state championships for my cross-country team. This had pretty much depleted my body for a while, and I came into the first practice not out of shape, but just not at the top of my game. I worked through it however, and within a few weeks I felt I had gained back whatever I had lost. I worked hard in practice and did well, and when games started I expected to be playing. I was wrong. At first, I would play 5-10 minutes. Then just five. Then five began to turn into three or four. Finally, after a game we had easily won, I trudged up the aisle of the bus to the seat of my coach so that I could confront her about having only played two minutes. I sat down and poured my heart out. "What am I doing wrong? What can I do to improve? How can I get more playing time??" It was basically a desperate plea to understand what it was that was so wrong with me. But I never could have expected the answer she would give. After mumbling something about shooting form and random rebounding issues that obviously indicated the fact that she hadn't really paid any attention to my play at all, she then dished out the lowest blows of all. She told me I was out of shape...and she told me she didn't think I was trying, or that I cared. How could she say this to me??? Tears flowed out of my eyes as I professed loving the game more than anything, more than life. And I begged her forgiveness for having not shown my tenacity on the court. I vowed to do better - swore it - and then returned to my seat where I sobbed in the corner, hating myself more and more with each passing thought.

From that day on, I was a machine. I woke early in the morning to practice in my driveway before school. I practiced before practice, I practiced after practice, and I practiced on Saturday when no one else was around. I ran suicides on my own every morning to get in better shape, and every extra moment was spent dribbling a ball or watching games - anything to help me improve. During running drills, players would tell me to chill out when they'd notice how I'd almost pass out afterwards - having beaten the entire team each and every trip down the court. But all of this really came to a head one day at practice when the coach's own daughter had smarted off and caused us all to have to hit the stairs. "Run until I tell you to stop," was the order, so we began running. Very quickly I was in the lead...and my lead grew. Pretty soon I had lapped them once, then twice...then three times. It was when I had reached the back of the line to begin my forth time lapping the rest of the team when I heard coach's voice yell out for me to stop. Not everyone else, just me. She had me sit down and rest while the others continued running for another 20 minutes. I didn't know whether she was rewarding me or just keeping me from making the others (her daughter included) from looking bad. I knew one thing, though - she had noticed me.

That weekend we had a big game versus our ultimate rivals - Shelby Valley. We hadn't won a game against them in almost 5 years, but tonight we had a chance. I went in once for about a minute - to give one of the starters a break - got a steal, and then was put back on the bench. I was pleased with how I had don, and was now praying I would get in again before the half. And I did. 30 seconds left in the first half, down by 2 points. I guess she figured this was the least "dangerous" time to put me in the game...maybe this way I couldn't "hurt anything".

As it turns out, I didn't hurt anything at all. One pass was made to me about 5 feet outside the 3-point arc. I spotted up, shot, and SWOOSH! Pikeville - up 1. We went into the locker room elated as I thanked God for the moment. My teammates practically carried me in before our halftime talk. We were told not to get too excited, but that we were doing a great job. I was so sure I'd get to go in again......but I didn't. We were down 2 points again at the end of the game. I didn't go in, a couple of girls missed some three pointers, we fouled them to stop the clock and lost by 5 or 6....

The next week, same thing happened. Down 2 at the end of first half. I go in, swish a 3-pointer. I never see the court again the rest of the game.

And then a funny thing happened. My playing time went from 30 seconds a game to not playing at all. I hadn't played for 3 successive games in a row when at the end of a game my coach particularly wanted to win, we were down by 3 with 15 seconds left. This time, when everything was on the line, she wanted me in the game! I went to the scorer's table but sadly, the clock never stopped and I never went in. In fact, I barely went in for the rest of the season.

I guess she didn't like scoring.

That summer I continued to play with the team. We played some scrimmage matches, one where we played Shelby Valley. I was allowed to play a full half since it was a scrimmage and in that half I made 4 three pointers, including one where I was fouled. I made the free-throw too. I wasn't allowed to go back in in the second half, and though we had been up by 10, we lost the game.

Every game for that entire year I drove home with teardrops splashing on my steering wheel. My dad once found me face first on the floor of my bedroom, sobbing into my jersey. I've never seen my father's heart break for me like it did that day. He knew this sport was destroying me, but he also knew he couldn't ask me to give it up...

Lucky for him, that's exactly what I ended up doing. The fall of my senior year had been the first year my school had fielded a soccer team. As it turns out, my coaches had respected my athleticism. I became the captain, tied for leading scorer, and played more minutes in every single 80-minute game than I had in an entire junior season of basketball. Still, thought, I didn't think I was ready to give it up. Until one night, on the bus ride back from my last soccer game, a few of the girls who knew the coach's daughter came to me and told me some of the things she had said about me. The coach's daughter, "Emily" we'll call her, had told them that the only reason I was on the team was because her mom felt sorry for me for being such a hard worker, but that I was terrible, and that every time I got in the games I messed things up. And that was it for me. This woman that I had respected so much, whether she had really said these things or not, was tearing me apart from the inside out.

The next day I packed my shoes just in case...but I knew what I was going to do. I walked into her office prepared to be strong - to tell her I was quitting and that was that; no tears. Unfortunately, that's not exactly how it worked out. I walked into the office, and slowly a monstrous lump began it's expansion in my throat till I could barely choke out words: "I'm retiring," I finally announced. She seemed "shocked" and almost caring. With a look of, "oh how sad" she cocked her head to the side and asked me if I was sure of my decision. I shook my head yes, and without warning my chin began to quiver. Tears came out of nowhere, and I began to quake from within. I began to apologize for not being better, to apologize for quitting...basically to apologize for being me. She walked over and hugged me as I shook, saying to me, "I'm so sorry, I know this hasn't turned out the way you wanted it too.." I almost want to puke when I think of those words now. When I think of the way I had been treated, undermined, lied to. I had never been the best basketball player in the world, but I was pretty damn good, and I would have been much better had I ever been given the chance to actually play. She then told me that she liked having me around for "team morale" because I worked so hard. But I wasn't going to be a mascot for anybody. I turned in the things required of me, gasped one more "I'm sorry", and left that office forever.


So many people told me I would regret quitting. And well, I guess in one sense I did. But what I really thought I would regret was ever having started playing in the first place, and especially having played for her. But now, many years later, the experience has had the opposite effect on me. It was in those early years of my athletic life that I learned how to work hard, and I learned to do it for little or no return. I did it for pure love of the game - and I still do, only a different game. And ya know, I'm glad I was treated so poorly. Had I not been, then perhaps I would have become a decent basketball player - maybe even played college ball. But would I have ever worn a red, white, and blue jersey? Would I have played in a National Championship? Would I have traveled to Europe? Played in the ocean in Iceland? Would I have met all the amazing people I have?? More importantly, would I ever have known what it's like to tackle and be tackled, or to push myself to the absolute physical and mental limit?? Would I ever have known what it's like to pull on a #9 jersey and feel that rush of being the general on the field, conducting and passing and running and yelling...no time-outs...no subs...?????

The answer to all that is NO. A hundred times no. And best of all, now I have the knowledge to truly appreciate all the wonderful coaches there are in the world of rugby. People who, in my experience, have sacrificed time, money, and plenty of sanity just because they love being out there. They've taught me not only how to be a better player, but in some cases how to be a better person as well. And beyond that, they've enriched my life by teaching me the little things...that puppets with machine guns can be funny, how to balance oranges on the back of your neck, when green and yellow toenail polish is a good idea, the alternate meaning of "ice cream", and that sometimes you've gotta fight to earn that "blue ribbon"... =)

I can't name one coach in rugby that has been the most talented or the most supportive or my favorite or whatever. They've all been amazing in their own ways - and to be honest, none of them have stopped teaching me. Despite my move to different teams or their moves to different jobs, I still receive feedback and support. It's an amazing network of people who have used every resource in their power to help me, and to help all those who are willing to learn. Because of that, I can't pick a favorite from among them. The only thing I can tell you, then, is about the worst coach I ever had...the worst, and the best.

She destroyed one dream, but in doing so, helped me to find another, far superior one. Her destruction of my self-esteem has allowed me to find the people who would eventually build it back up - the right way.

So thanks, coach. Thanks for destroying basketball so that I could find rugby. And thanks for being the best (worst) coach I've ever had.

....on me at least. I hate today. And I really hate anyone that likes it. So I'm probably going to be holed up in my apartment being anrgy for a while. In fact, this is kind of an entire month that most of my teammates call my "winter hibernation period". Which basically means I'm way antisocial and only come out for practice and spend the rest of my time barricaded on my couch growling over the fact that winter won't go away, and that all the people who might warm it up a little live over 500 miles away. Last year I probably would have made like Jesus and busted open some wine by now - but don't worry, my box of Franzia is still entirely intact, waiting on more celebratory times to come =)

Anyways, that's my rant for today. Don't worry, tomorrow (or maybe even tonight) my bitterness will probably wear off and I'll have something more valuable to post...maybe even about rugby. But for now, I'm busy hating Valentines Day, and wanted to share my hate with the masses.

Hearts and Kisses. (blah).

Okay, so for some that may have read this before, this might seem a bit repetitive. But what happened was, well....I had written some stuff down...then thought about it...then took it off, and then was encouraged to post it back up again. So anyways, here are my thoughts on rugby jealousy, and it's effect on me...


So a couple days ago I get a phone call from a very good friend of mine, announcing that she had been invited to the Women's National Team training camp for the second time....now, despite the knife piercing through my heart feeling I get when I hear this news, I pretty much have to smile, say congrats, and try to swallow the giant lump in my throat as she describes the details of the event. It's not that I'm not happy for her advancement - really, I am. But what am I supposed to say to that? "Guess what? I got invited to the senior Eagle camp!" ...."Guess what!??! I DIDN'T!" - I mean, seriously...and it's not that I would expect an invite, on the contrary I would actually have been pretty shocked - I'm sure I'm barely even on the radar because no one has seen enough from me yet.....but it's not only that I don't expect to be invited, it's that she doesn't expect me to be either; and for that reason it doesn't even seem to cross her mind that I would pretty much run over my own grandma to be in her spot. And that it hurts a whole lot to hear about the successes that seem to come so easily for her and others, when I'm struggling for every single inch.

Though some sacrifices come in slow steady increments - the hours of practice and training building up over many years to form a lifetime of commitment - there are other kinds of sacrifice that have become excrutiatingly clear to me over the past few months, and make these kinds of comparisons and disappointments all the more poignant. Reaching my goals has become more than just an afterthought that comes to mind when school and playtime are pushed to the side. There was a long period of time when I believed I could make it the easy way like so many others - put a few hours in the gym, go to practice, spend a little extra time on skills and Ta dah! I would be there. And at first, only a few months into my rugby career and suddenly on a trip to the UK, it seemed like that. But that would last only so long for me. Unlike others blessed with so much natural athleticism and talent, I finally understand that it's going to take quite a bit more for me to put myself on an equal playing field with those folks who glide right to the top.

So that's what I've been doing. And that's pretty much ALL I've been doing. I spend my days training religiously every morning at 6:00am, which means waking at 5:30am, which means going to bed no later that 10:30pm. All the time in between is spent in class, studying, or doing a ton of cooking and calorie counting in hopes that I might add some coveted muscle weight to my frame. I don't go out to eat, I don't go to parties, and most weekends my truck doesn't even leave the parking lot. My new form of entertainment is hiking with Brutus through the snow, which, no offense to Brutus, is fun but less that conversationally stimulating. It's not that I don't enjoy being healthy and working to improve myself - but sometimes when I get late night drunk dials or look at old pictures of myself partying with the best of them, I miss that old life...and I'm not too proud to admit how gd jealous I get knowing that there are quite a few people out there who can enjoy those perks and still make it to the top...I mean, let's get one thing straight, I am not a fun-hater. In fact, those that know me pretty well might be reading this and thinking, "yeah right, she woudn't give up Jack Daniels to save her life!"...well, that' might be true, but I would give up Jack Daniels to save my rugby career. And I won't do it for money, or titles, or to prove something to anyone. I'll do it because the best days of my life were spent out on the pitch, on the road, and in the hotel rooms with some of the most talented rugby players in the country. I've made the best friends a girl could ask for, traveled to places I otherwise would have never seen, and I've done it all while wearing the colors of my country on my back. How many people can say that? Not many, and I'm certainly not ready to give it up.

So while I may be jealous of the ease with which so many others like my friend seem to glide right past me while I'm here, drenched in sweat and struggling to pedal uphill, I cannot lose focus on my own path as I covet their achievements. I've made it over the hump, and now I just have to keep my legs pumping until I reach the top. On my way, I may find myself jealous of those whose naturaly talent allows them speed past on their shiny motorbikes and air conditioned cars, but the truth is that motors break down and cars run out of gas. And when that happens I will still be pedaling...driving steadily uphill with the knowledge that if I ever do pull on that senior Eagle jersey and stand to hear my country's anthem, I'll have earned every stitch of that jersey and every note of that song.

And it will be worth it.