Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

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.