Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

Today the windchill dropped to temperatures of negative 25 degrees.

Iowa is COLD.

Rugby translation: I can't play outside.

Thought of the day: It's cold in Canada, too. So why are Canadians so good at rugby when there's such a long-ass time that they can't play? And why are their women getting stipends when we aren't? Should I move to Canada? nah...but some money would be nice =).

So I have this poetry class and I'm supposed to write a poem a week. Sometimes inspiration is there, sometimes it's not...either way, I always have to find something to be artsy about. After a couple of hours of staring at a blank computer screen, I finally spouted out this little diddy and thought I would post it...it's just a little reminder to go out there and chase your dreams. Whatever it is, don't let it pass you by...

I hope you all enjoy a little of my mushy side - here goes:

I shouldn't tell everyone how awesome this nutrition plan I'm on is without telling them how to find it should I??? Well, it's from an online book I bought called Burn The Fat, Feed the Muscle. No frills, just simple advice that makes sense. The principles of the lifestyle nutrition program presented here work whether you are trying to lose some flab, gain some muscle, or simply improve your health - the food stays the same, only the number of calories change. It's about 40 bucks for the book, but it's filled with nearly 400 pages of some awesome information written by a lifetime natural bodybuilder. If anyone knows how to manipulate body composition without the use of drugs and crash diets - this guy would.

Anyways, check it out...and if you want to see some of the results of people on this and similar nutrition programs, check out some of these blogs:

http://blog.getmadfitness.com/
http://www.adamwaters.org/
http://ninosmission.com/


No, rugby isn't all about losing or gaining weight.....but lost flab and gained muscle mass most likely will translate to extra speed, power, and endurance on the field. No matter what your weight, if you fuel yourself with only the most natural and high quality foods, then your body will certainly thank you - both with how you look and how you feel...

Bon Appetit!!

It wasn't all that long ago that I would run in horror from the kitchen upon seeing that my mother was serving some disgusting green substance like brussel sprouts or brocolli for dinner. As I child I despised these and just about any other green leafy substance. In fact, the only veggies I would stomach without too much protest were corn, carrots, or a "salad" of iceberg lettuce (nothing too dark green) thoroughly drenched in ranch dressing. As I got older, these tastes didn't change too much. As I became more concious of my body I tried to eat a little healthier, but more often than not that meant skipping the occassional big mac instead of adding the occassional celery stick...

But over the past year or so, I've been rethinking this way of eating. My immune system has always been somewhat lacking, as I catch just about any cold or flu that comes my way. Not to mention I have become increasingly aware of my desire to improve my body and what it would take to add some coveted muscle weight to my frame without slabbing on extra flab. If you've been reading this blog for a while, you may recall my initial plan to turn this blog into a nutrition/workout journal. Well, that idea hasn't exactly come to fruition, nor do I plan to revert back to that initial format, but I will say that I have adjusted some of my initial nutrition plans, and that I am currently on a "diet" (I hate this word because it implies that at some point I plan to stop eating this way, which I don't) that is really, really producing some results for me - especially in the way I feel.

First off, I found the meal plan that I had first planned out on this blog was lacking in that it was not customized to ME. When I actually counted out how many calories I would be eating if I followed it exactly, I would only have been injesting about 2000 calories a day. After reading an amazing book on nutrition, I was able to find out that according to my BMR (the number of calories it takes to run all my bodily functions, without adding any physical activity) and the addition of my current activity level (hard exercise 6 days a week) it would take about 2450 calories for me to maintain my weight. Well, if it's my goal to gain some muscle weight, then I would actually need to up that number by about 10-15% putting my calorie goal for each day at about 2700! Of course, I could do that easily by shoving cheeseburgers and pizza down my pie hole...but that would probably not translate into lean muscle mass...more like a nice set of love handles. So I've divided my calories into 6 small meals a day, eating plently of awesome foods like turkey, salmon, brown rice, whole wheat bread, mixed veggies, fruit, tuna, natural peanut butter, etc. In addition, I've wiped out nearly all unhealthy toppings like butter, sour cream....and I also steer clear of anything that lists "hydrogenated oils" or "high fructose corn syrup" anywhere in the ingredients....

And do you know what has happened??? I FEEL GREAT!!! Now...to be sure, I've only been doing the full-fledge program for a couple of weeks - but I haven't had any desires to fall of the track, and I really hope I can keep up this type of healthy eating for the rest of my life. Obviously, there are going to be times when an ice cream cone or a cheeseburger becomes a necessary evil...and that's okay so long as it's not more than once a week. In fact, maybe I could look at it as a sort of reward for getting me to where I want to be........a stronger, faster, more powerful player and person.

So am I a health nut? Well...maybe so. But I still run in horror at the sight of a brussel sprout ;)

Last weekend, as I have done many times before, I hopped on an airplane and flew off into the sunset towards what I like to refer to as "Rugby Land". In reality, I was heading to Philadelphia, PA - but it may as well have been any random field in any random state, in any random country on the planet. Seattle, Austin, Philly, Chicago...they have all been the same to me. A field which is more or less green, more or less covered with grass (or in this case turf), and more or less filled with familiar rugby faces. In this particular case, the faces were a little less familiar, as I was attending a Julie McCoy rugby footwork camp, filled mostly with local Philly players and those from the surrounding area - New York, DC, Boston, etc. I was a lonely Midwest player in a sea of MARFU (sprinkled with some NERFU), and certainly the only player from anywhere close to Northern Iowa. However, I wasn't completely alone - Lisa Rosen (my former U19 forwards coach) had been the one who had alerted me to the camp, and invited me to come out and stay with her for the weekend while I picked up some much-needed evasive running skills. I also ran into a couple other players from my days of playing for the Red, White, and Blue, which helped me to settle into somewhat of a comfort zone...

Also warming my heart a bit were the voices of my coaches. Jules and her assisting strength coach (Sean Ross) happen to be very much from the South, and after a couple of years amidst a nasal caccaphony of midwesterners, the sweet sound of a slow-spoken "ya'll" is a very welcome sound indeed. For this particular weekend, I was not alone in my hillbillyishness, and was able to share not only my last name, but my accent with a few members of the staff....for a second, Rugby Land seemed fairly close to home =)


Although not a tryout, I can't say that I was able to trump my usual rugby anxiety levels for long - southern drawls or not. Rugby, as it so happens, is one of those rare things I can honestly admit myself to be good at. That level of "good" is yet to be determined, but after a long struggle with self-doubt, I am usually able to look beyond my flaws and short-comings and admit to myself that yeah, I'm pretty decent at this. So when it comes to any rugby event that falls anywhere below the level of select-side tryout, I don't expect to get too terribly worked up. In this case, I wouldn't even be asked to play a game - merely to learn some training techniques, and then run through a few hours of attacking drills - so really, what's the worst that could happen???

Well, friday night went smoothly enough. Since I had previously acquired one of the 7's national team workouts on the rugby internet blackmarket (totally joking), much of the weight training program was not knew to me. I picked up a few new techniques and a much better understanding of the PURPOSE of many of the exercises - which I found very helpful. I was also able to earn Ellie Karvoski's approval of my 1-arm snatch form, which is always a compliment. In short, Friday was easy. I learned stuff, I had fun.

Saturday, however, is where my fun REALLY began. As it turns out, footwork camp can be a very humbling experience. Filled with players of just about every ability level from D2 club and collegiete to DI Club National Champs and U23 National Team captains, the ability to clump all of us together for this learning experience speaks to the level of innovation Jules has put into these clinics. I can't say that I excelled at the initial one on one and one on two evasive running drills - but I also wasn't terrible...I felt that I was, well, learning - as it should be I suppose. Where I ran into trouble, though, was when passing was added. Contrary to every rugby drill I believe I have ever run, this drill required us to pass after cutting and while running TOWARDS our supported. On paper, my brain said "sure, I can do that"...on the field however? AHHH!!! On the first run, I made my cut out wide and then immediately proceeded to power my pass off my back foot and sail the ball about 10 yards past my supporter (who is also running toward me)...

"McCoy! Looks like you been practicing that pass off your back foot for 10 years!" Jules words echoe in my head. We did this drill so many times...but you know what, I don't think I ever REALLY got it. It got better, yes. But great? Never. As a scrumhalf, my pass is something that I'm supposed to pride myself on - but WHY COULDN'T I DO THIS!?!?! I'm still not quite sure, and though it's not a skill I would use for every situation on the rugby field, it is a handy tool to have in my rugger toolbox, and so I would like to think I could execute it if necessary or desired. Looking back, I can remember many players having trouble with this very same thing - good players, new players, great players....everyone really. But the exceedingly selfish person that I am believed that this should not be the case for me. I left the field knotted up inside, biting the collar of my jersey, thinking of places I could escape to and wondering how I could better indulge myself with a little self-degradation and pity. Fortunately, I was not given the chance. Instead, I was forced to lighten up a little over a couple of beers and a hamburger at a local bar/restaurant. Sunday would be a new day.

And it was. A rugby day, no matter how disagreeable the previous one, always begins as a good one for me, and Sunday proved to be no exception. My feet, hands, and mind, having picked up a few new tricks from the day before, began this day with a little more ease. The running lines were better, I was good at defense, and even the pass became (slightly) better. The high point of my day came when running a 1 on 2 as the offense in a defensive drill in which I came through to the goal line untouched using some pretty snazzy new running lines. Confidence grew.

Though I am still by no means an expert or even very good at the skills taught to me over my most recent Rugby Land adventure, I intend to do everything in my power to stick with the program provided me there in order to become better able to execute the evasive running skills I will need become an elite-level player. Do I still need to be faster - well, yes. But it doesn't hurt to be able to evade the defense even without a trimmed-up 40 time. With this program, hopefully, I will improve both.

I can't say that I agree with everything taught me footwork camp - but I can't say that I disagree with much either. There are so many ways to play rugby and so many different philosophies, and though you can't use all of them simultaneously, I believe you can take bits and pieces from all and invest them into your overall quest toward being a better player. Though I may more often play in a more support-oriented offense than the one presented to me at camp, it cannot possibly hurt to evade two or three defenders before finally dishing the ball, rather than getting stopped by the first defender standing in my way. Most of all, I believe footwork camp has given me the confidence to believe in my ability to run with the ball, instead of constantly looking for a "fast" player to do it for me.

Though I love being a scrumhalf, I also must learn to be a rugby player - because after that ball comes out of the ruck or scrum I am just as much entitled to have a go as anyone sporting a 12 or 13...

In the meantime I'll be faithfully executing the Jules McCoy/Ellie Karvoski rugby workout, and will be reaching the peak of my training just as DI Nationals get underway....

see you there ;0)

In about an hour, I will officially be 22 years old. Ugh....time to start cashing in the social security checks.

It's like this....you're a little kid and all you can ever think of is getting older...16 you get to drive a car, 18 you can vote, buy tobacco, lottery tickets, and porn (not that I actually buy any of those things, but if I wanted to...), and then at 21 comes the ever-antipated legal buying of alcohol. But then what? Suddenly there are bills and responsibilities and cellulite. And what's worse, the older you get in rugby, suddenly the less time you have to get BETTER. I only have 2 years left before I'm out of U23's and have to play in the big girl arena.....geezus....

This getting old stuff sure isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'm 22, have a year left of college, totally dependent on my parents, not a clue what I'm actually gonna do when I graduate, haven't had any sort of relationship in over 2 years and even then haven't ever had one last over 4 months...Suddenly I have this vision of myself as an 80 year old wrinkly little woman rotting in a gutter somewhere.

There's only one person in the entire world I want to call me and I know he won't.

Seriously, I hate birthdays.

It was just over two years ago that I had really become serious about rugby. All within that span of time I had picked up my first rugby ball, played my first game, tried out for U19's, toured England and Wales, received 1 cap at #20 and 2 caps at #9, and made the Midwest U23's. Most of this (all except making the Midwest U23's) actually happened within my first year. After having returned home from the U.K. after three of the best-worst weeks of my life I was feeling a little tired and overwelmed, but excited to get back to my club team in a few weeks to start the fall season as a seasoned veteran. Just before school started though, I learned that all of the u19 players had been invited to tryout for the U23 National Team. My best friend, flyhalf, and U19 teammate had already decided not to make the 5 hour trip down to Atlanta. She may have been burnt out, and really just wanted to focus on school and club rugby for a while. Up to this point I hadn't done anything without her and by the time I got my invite (due to email glitches) I only had a day's time to let them know whether I was coming or not. I declined.



This turned out to be one of the biggest regrets of my rugby career. I supposed I didn't truly realize how hard those invites were to come by. True, I likely would not have made it, and may have been in over my head. But the experience would have been invaluable, and the opportunity is one you just don't pass up. It didn't take me too long after having declined to realize this. About 6 months later I began to print of rosters of U23 players and highlight the names of scrumhalves and of other players my age or younger who had made the team. I began to lift and train with more determination, and looked into the possibility of overseas developement. I almost went on a rugby study abroad in New Zealand, seriously considered the Varsity athlete path at Eastern Illinois University (disaster), before finally deciding to transfer elsewhere...eventually settling on the Univ. of Northern Iowa. It was at this time that I realized I was sacrificing a lot to play rugby. Not only was I giving up a near full academic ride at Kentucky, but I was moving to place where there's not much more than corn, hogs, and pubs. If I was going to do this - I wanted to do it right.

I decided in order to become an Eagle, I would need to train like an Eagle, and having found a lifting/running schedule on the womeneagles.com website, I wanted to follow it to the letter. However, there was one problem: How the hell do you do a snatch?!? There were hang cleans, power cleans, front squats, push presses, split jerks, snatches and all kinds of other weird exercises that I hadn't had much experience with. My coach had already introduced me to cleans and a version of the push press, but I wanted to know more. On a whim, I found the USA Weightlifting website, looked up the Kentucky contact, and sent an email out detailing my situation. I was a rugby player looking to push myself to the National level, and had found out that learning how to do Olympic lifts would really help me out. I never expected the response I would get. Suddenly I was given a coach who was a grad student training varsity athletes at UK. Once a week, for a little over an hour, I was given a crash course in how to perform cleans, jerks, presses, and snatches CORRECTLY, in the most explosive possible way. In the few lessons I was able to receive before leaving for Iowa, I was able to learn a lot Olympic lifts, and began integrating everything I learned into my normal training. I would have loved to learn more, but like I said, I had to move....

Cut to the present...

Well it turns out that the man who had found me my temporary coach was a legend himself. He is a neurosurgeon in Kentucky, on the USA Weightlifting board of directors, and travels all over the world coaching and running competitions. Over the last few years I have kept in contact with him via email as a thanks for his help. Since he'd played some rugby many years ago, he understood what I was trying to do. I would send him updates of my successes and the occassional picture from a game. However, it wasn't until this past weekend that I had ever had the chance to meet with him. After letting him know that I would be in the lexington area on saturday, he immediately jumped into our training plans. He advised me to be at the gym at 9:30am to watch his regulars train for about an hour and a half, and that we would begin work at around 11:00. Then a few days later he sent me another email telling me to "Prepare for my rebirth as an athlete". Needless to say, I was a little intimidated, and curious as to what kind of magic would happen at this little training session.

Well, saturday has come and gone, and it's fair to say that some sort of rebirth definitely occurred. Having arrived at around 9:15am, and beginning real training at about 11am, we didn't finish up until about 4pm. There was a whole lot of talking and adjustment mixed in with actual movement of weight (and a vast majority of the work actually involved the movement of a stick rather than a bar) but it was worth it. Having thought long and hard about what movement would be most beneficial to a rugby player, and especially to one who was in desperate need of added speed and explosivity, Doc chose the split-jerk as our focus. Watching the regulars throw nearly 130 Kilos (1 kilo = 2.2 lbs) was a little daunting, but I was eagar to learn. I spent a lot of frustrating time just practicing the movement with a stick before I was finally allowed to try the bar. After a few successful tries with the bar, 20 kilos were added, and well...lets just say I wasn't able to do. Doc, though, was not convinced. We went down to 30 kilos and I was able to do that easy enough, then 35 kilos...then suddenly, when I was again up against 40 kilos, the weight just went right up. Determined to push me farther, and little more weight was added...45 kilos. I was stoked. But just then Doc took all the weight off the bar and then threw on the 15 kilo weights - he wanted me to split-jerk 5o kilos (that's about 110 lbs, only 15 lbs shy of my body weight). And I did. Twice.



It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. It wasn't that I had "gotten stronger" as Doc would say, it was all about my technique, my explosivity, confidence, and most of all, balance. All of which could translate to plenty of added power on the field. If every jump, every tackle, every pass, and every sprint could be done with the explosiveness, balance, and confidence with which I was able to do these lifts, then I could only imagine what kind of rugby player I could become. Where most people think of lifting weights as only how strong you are, Doc taught me that my body was far stronger than the amount of weight I was lifting, and that it was only waiting for my technique to catch up. Likewise, I can think of my body as a giant question mark of potential - How much speed can my arms put into my pass? How much faster can my legs actually go if they know HOW to run? How much more powerful can my tackles be if I'm in balance????

For anyone out there looking to truly put themselves ahead of the pack, I see Olympic lifting as a significant platform. If you can, find someone who can help you learn the correct way to do things, because you can't imagine the things you might learn. You might just experience a rebirth as an athlete....I know I did.

"Okay, New Zealand is on the horizon. Can you see it out there? Keep focusing and you will see it."


-Doc