Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

The International Rugby Board (IRB) has just appointed a Women's Rugby Development Manager. This is a big step for the development of the women's game across the globe. Read about it here!

Today my roommates and I went on a little adventure to get a Christmas tree. We went to a tree farm just outside the city, rode on a hay ride to the field where they keep the trees, and then had to cut down our own tree by ourselves! We struggled a bit with the cutting (as portrayed by the video), but eventually got our little conifer home safe and sound. Now if only we had some ornaments....

...Pandora Radio is maybe the coolest freaking thing EVER.

Okay....maybe not for everybody, but I listen to music a lot. Like...a whole lot. I work from home and have to sit on my computer for at least 8 hours a day. For at least half of that time I am listening to music. When I am in the car I listen to music...running...lifting...walks with Brutus...cleaning....okay, you get the picture - I am constantly engrossed in noise.

If I'm going to be bombarding my eardrums all the time, I might as well make it worthwhile. I enjoy many different types of music depending on my mood and what I'm doing, and am constantly looking for new stuff to download. There are so many different bands and sounds out there and it can be a lot of work just finding stuff that you enjoy. I tend to search for songs I've heard on TV shows or use itunes new "genius song finder" when I have the time.

Recently, I have decided to delve into internet radio. When I went home I discovered a surprisingly cool station that was "all the rage" in the big city of Pikeville, and decided that it would be cool to listen to it online from time to time. My friend RA also mentioned that he listens to radio from home overseas occasionally, so I thought I'd check out some random stations from abroad to see what's all the rage with the funny-talkers these days.

All that was going okay and I was finding a new, cool song occasionally after sifting through the crap. Yesterday, however, I discovered Pandora. I went to the website and it asked me to type in the name of an artist or a song. I chose Ryan Adams (slightly mainstream, slightly obscure folk-rock artist whose songs make it on a lot of tv show soundtracks). Pandora tells me that it is creating a radio station based on music that sounds like that of Ryan Adams....huh?

As the songs come up, it asks me to tell it whether I like them or not. Thumbs up - it tells me it's glad I liked it and that it will pick more to suit me. Thumbs down - it immediately changes the song and APOLOGIZES for picking that one?!?! Holy sh*t! How fun!

To add variety, I tell it more songs/artists that I like so that it will find more stuff to suit my tastes! I can also bookmark songs that I may want to buy/download, and look at the playlists of other people who have been listening to similar songs as me! AMAZING!! And it is FREE. free. free. free.

I love free things. And I love music...so I am pretty freaking happy about this. Just wanted to share the happiness.....if you haven't already, check it out.

Since I have been "resting" / being sick for the past week or so, I have come to realize something: I do not do well with rest. Not. at. all. Rest makes me feel crazy and pathetic and worthless. Because I am not as tired as usual - mentally or physically - my brain starts spinning a hundred miles per hour and I force misery upon myself to occupy the emptiness. Also, I have lot more trouble sleeping - which sucks, because I don't sleep well to begin with - which reinforces my misery.

Also, I have come to realize something about my general state of emotion. I think that I am naturally a bit miserable and unhappy. Sure, I have days where I am happy and days where I am unhappy like everyone else....but I was thinking really hard about it lately to try to figure out why there seem to be more unhappy days than happy ones, for no apparent reason at all. When I am unhappy, it seems that there doesn't really have to be a cause. If I am relaxing, or if I turn off the "noise" from the world....that seems to be the state I fall into. If I am happy, however, I am usually doing something. I am training or working or outdoors or with someone who makes me happy. Happy is work. Happy is active. And when I get tired on those happy days and feel myself slowing down, I feel the unhappy creeping up. It's why I am constantly in a state of "noise". If I attempt to work or train or drive in silence......well...you can pretty much guarantee that I'll come out on the other side of that a little more angry and dejected than I was when I started. If I turn off the noise on the outside, my brain fills it on the inside with much less positive noise. It sucks because, quite frankly, sometimes I could use a little peace and quiet...

At any rate, in order to spare myself and those who are forced to interact with me a bit of grief over the winter (not my best time...) I have decided to enact weekly skill development.

It is my goal to do/try/learn something new each week. It could be anything from knitting to yoga to a new language or whatever. If, after the week, I decide that it's something I really like, then I can extend my learning period (obviously I'm not going to knit a quilt or learn a new language in a week).

The goal of this is to A) fill the white space in my brain, and B) to "improve myself"

Maybe this plan will stick and maybe it won't....but it's worth a try. I decide on each new thing on Friday evenings, pick up a book or research it on Saturday, and continue my learning throughout the week. I have not yet decided on my skill for today and the coming week, so feel free to offer suggestions!

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving holiday and is back on track, working off the extra lbs earned from all the delicious food.

As for me, I took a trip home (I hadn't been back in nearly a year!), saw the fam, went to my friend JD's baby shower, and reunited with some people I hadn't seen in a very long time.

As you can see, Thanksgiving time is also holiday photo time at the McCoy household, and the doggies got in on the action. My mom wanted to let Brutus run loose through the neighborhood dressed like that, but I felt that even animal humiliation shouldn't go that far.


In other news, I have been keeping up at least with the conditioning portion on my workout. I have been laying off lifting over the holiday as part of my "resting" to see if I can get my elbow back to normal, but running was a different story. I am holding strong on my program "Off-Season for the Advanced Athlete" from getstrength.net, and performed maybe the hardest conditioning workout of my life as part of the interval options listed with my plan. It involved an ungodly amount of timed 200's and 100's with very little rest....ewwww. However, I recovered quickly from that and can't wait to get back outside and in the gym to continue my gains.

Many people are born with various "abnormalities," if you will. Sometimes, these can be kind of cool: double jointedness, webbed feet, the ability to wiggle one's ears, to roll your tongue, etc....Other people might have some that aren't so cool...bowed legs, extra fingers, giant noses...well, you get the picture....

My bodily quirk probably fits somewhere between these two categories of cool and just weird, depending on your viewpoint. For those of you not so fortunate enough to have seen my "elbow trick," I have included a detailed picture below:As it turns out, my arms cannot straighten. I guess it's the same thing as having bowed knees, except in my arms. I first discovered this when, as a child, I was wrestling with my sister and proceeded to fall to the ground, catching myself and straining my elbow in the process. I got up, telling my mom that my arm hurt. She asked me to hold my arms out and then screamed, "OH MY GOD! Both your arms are BROKEN!!!".....to which I replied, "They ARE!?!?!"

In reality, neither arm was broken, nor severely injured. Actually, they just look like that all the time. Over the years I have come to respect my elbows as a party trick or conversation starter. Most people find it funny that I cannot actually put my elbows down to my sides when straighted, or that when I lay on the ground and try to put them close to me, my arms pop up like little dinosaur arms. A few of my college friends have even been known to refer to them as my "bat wings" which pop out just before a tackle, and more than once I have had a friend introduce me to someone and say, "Ooooh oooh! Will you show him/her your elbows!! Pllleeeeeassee!!!"

Once, the morning after revealing my elbow trick to my team at a select side event, a coach of mine found herself particularly disturbed. The first words out of her mouth after waking up being, "Wait...were Tiffany's arms always like that!?!?"

Yes. Yes they were...


Sadly, not everything about my stupid elbows is amusing. Their unfortunate assembly seems to have made them easily prone to hyper-extension, which is the real reason I chose to blog about my little handicap this morning. I am currently nursing the latest in a series of elbow hyper-extension injuries, sustained to my right arm in the second game of the round of 16 in St. Louis. I played on in the game, and since then it has not really hampered much of my training. I have continued practicing and lifting as usual, careful to monitor the difference between soreness and pain in my injured appendage. Unfortunately, monitoring doesn't seem to have been enough, as the pain has begun to flair up once again, and I am faced with the unfortunate proposition of "resting". *sigh*

I hate resting, but it looks like I'm going to be giving my right wing some time off from lifting for the next week or so and will then re-evaluate my progress. Unfortunately this also means no Olympic lifting, front squats, or dead-lifts, as these all put strain on my bum joint. Passing seems to be fine - no pain whatsoever - but I will be careful to pay attention to my body when it comes to that as well.

"Resting" wasn't exactly in my plans for getting a head start on my off-season training, but after a month of ignoring my body's plea for a break, it looks like I am going to have to give in. In the meantime, I'll be working on my conditioning, lower body, and core strength. Keeping my fingers crossed that my "guns" don't shrink too much, though......;)

Deep breath in for 7 seconds....hold for 2....out for 6.....

Ahhhh....it's what's called a "Centering Breath" according to a book (yes, a book!) I'm reading called 10-Minute Toughness, and it's designed to be a 15-second reset for your brain during high stress situations. Resets...I've needed a lot of those lately. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don't, but I have been trying. I've come to accept that the demons are going to tug at my pant legs and whisper sweet nothings in my ear no matter what...

"You're not good enough"

"You're wasting your time"

"This is too hard"

"They were right about you"

So many voices telling me what I should or shouldn't do. Some of them are real, some of them are imagined....and some are a bit of both. But the idea of the centering breath is that for those 15 seconds, all the other voices are momentarily drowned out in order to clear a little space for my own. For most of my life, I have been a person who has put great value in the opinions of those I love and respect - trusting all too often that others know better of me than I do myself. The thing is...other people are impermanent. Friendships, relationships, mentorships, whatever....in the words of Dr. House, "Everything is conditional," and we can't always predict what those conditions will be. Whatever it is that causes one person to invest their time in another - whether it be for a sport, a relationship, a job - can disappear in an instant with a simple change of conditions. When the opinions or advice of those persons had been the foundation upon which you'd based your self-image and self-worth as I had done, the result can be devastating.

I can compare it to going out in a boat to the middle of a lake with a friend, despite not knowing how to swim. You trust your friend, and believe that if anything bad were to happen, she would save you from drowning. But when that boat capsizes, suddenly you're being pulled under and your friend is nowhere to be found. Maybe your friend is drowning too....maybe she isn't strong enough to hold both of your heads above the water....Really, it doesn't matter the reason, because the point is - you're drowning. Intentions were good - no one meant for this to happen, but that doesn't stop the reality of the situation. The onus is on you. You should have learned to swim before getting in the damn boat, even if that would have meant disappointing your friend.


So I guess I'm preaching to myself. I keep getting in the goddamn boat without so much as a pair of freakin' swimmies, and then wind up cursing the entire human race when I have to doggy paddle my way to the shore with water up my nose and salt in my eyes. It's like the President said "Fool me once...uhh" ....well, you get the idea - I need to learn from my mistakes and stop worrying so much about the actions and words of others. This is my life...I have to deal with the results and consequences, so I might as well start making the decisions that cause them.

This starts with listening to that little voice in my head. my voice.

It's the off-season now, which is kind of like the athlete's new year. It's a chance to reinvent yourself. To put yesterday behind you and be done with it, for better or worse. It's a deep breath on a larger scale, and though it's a bit shorter for a rugby player than some other kinds of athletes, it still exists. In the off-season, there's no worries about comparisons. It's you and the gym. You and the pitch. There are no external consequences for not training. Nor are there external rewards when you do. For me, making the choice to seek the internal rewards always translates to the offseason being a pretty lonely time. I don't see many friends, and even when I have the opportunity, I am often too tired to join them. I find myself talking to Brutus a little more and talking to humans a little less. I can't say that it's a happy time of year...but it is a time of hope - of second chances. Hope that maybe this time I'll get it right. Maybe that in a few months I can crawl out of my hibernation as an improved version of myself. It's not easy, but if it was, everyone would do it.

For this off-season, my resolution is to quiet all the other voices and listen to my own; to be the best version of myself. I will try to chronicle my efforts toward this rebirth of sorts on my blog...in part to keep from losing my sanity, and also to give myself a sense of accountability. I've got to admit, the thought of giving my best is pretty terrifying. There's always the chance that "everything" just isn't enough...but then again, what if it is?

Deep breath in for 7 seconds....hold for 2....out for 6.....



“Finish each day and be done with it. You have done what you could. Some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in, forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day, you shall begin it well and serenely...”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

So. As it turns out, rugby doesn't pay money, it actually COSTS money.

I know, shocking right?

Also, I am told that regardless of money issues, it's not healthy to have only one hobby/focus/obsession in life. But then again, I think that's basically the nature of obsession, that it is obsessive, so really how could you have more than one? And if you did, wouldn't that get exhausting, to be obsessed with a number of obsessions? Anyways....I digress...

As it stands today I have a job that pays the bills because my parents are nice enough to give it to me. It means that I can set my own training times and sit my 'tocks on the couch all day punching numbers into a database, and indulge myself in the Michael Phelps diet. Sounds great, eh? Great except that 99.999% of the time I feel completely worthless. As such, I am prompted to ask myself - what do I want to do?

What things to do I like? What am I good at? What would I like to be? Where would I like to go? How do I picture myself in 5 years? yada yada yada...

Problem is, I have pretty much zero answers for any of these questions. For instance, what do I like......ummm, rugby? being outdoors? my dog?

What am I good at? In the past I would probably have answered that I have a mean scrumhalf pass, but these days I am told that even that is only middle of the road so...there ya go. I am also an excellent bullshitter, but only on paper, and have a talent for writing precocious literary critiques on books which I have not actually read, do not actually like, and could not care less about. Let's just say my "talents" don't lend themselves to many careers.

And the rest of the questions??? What would I like to be? no idea....Where would I like to go?? Anywhere but wherever I am seems to be the answer most of the time. And how do I picture myself in 5 years??? Wow...uh...sitting on my couch...still asking these questions, actually. How depressing........


No idea where this post is going except to say that I would like to know where I am going and if anyone knows how to f'ing get there. How does anyone decide what they want to do? Are there people who are seriously interested in the classes they take? Does anyone really enjoy their job?? Are some people actually happy???

These are the things I must know....because my answers are slightly miserable...

So it's 11:30pm and I should be in bed. I have been browsing the web for no possible reason except that apparently in the 10 hours I was online earlier today while working I didn't get enough retinal burn from the screen and had to come back for a second bout. At any rate, I decided to run across the blogosphere see what was going on in the big world when I remembered, "oh yes, I have a blog".

Indeed I do. And upon further inspection I have found it to be filled with obsessive workouts, eating plans, weird poems from when I was working toward my worthless degree, grumpy ramblings about my various places of residence, and the occasional "life ain't so bad" speech.

Oh. and rugby. I guess I talk about that sometimes, too.

As such, I suppose I should segway into the blog title change. Maybe I will change my mind tomorrow, but as of tonight, staring up at my cheery little "Kentucky's Journey" title I kind of wanted to puke on myself. As it turns out I am pretty freaking cynical, and feel as though I am living a life of blogosphere deception through such a cheery and optimistic title. Anyone who knows me in real life is aware that I am simultaneously the worlds hugest pessimist and God's personal comic relief. As such, I believe my new title (which was also my senior year book quote) to be far more appropriate.


Hopefully it will spark me to post about stuff other than how many push ups my lazy ass did on such and such day, or whether or how many calories were in my carrot. We'll see.

Also...facebook changed so I thought I should join the movement. I am such a worthless follower.

Drinking the koolaid as we speak,

Tucky

So it seems that the winter has finally taken its leave of absence for the year in lieu of an already steaming summer, which means that my fingers are thawed and ready to let you know what's been happening with my life over the last few weeks.

So here's the thing, despite all my fussing, I am actually starting to *gasp* LIKE Philadelphia. I know, I know...It's almost scary the 180 I've turned from the past fall until now, but let's just say that I much prefer this side of the coin to the other. I can't decide any definitive moment that my opinion on the City of Brotherly Love began to soften, but there are certainly a combination of factors at work here. Let me expand.

Since rugby is what I spend the majority of my time focused on, it would make sense that so goes the rugby, so goes my life. Sometimes this is for the better, many times it is for the worst. Luckily, my experience this spring has been much more to the former, due in no small part to my new team, Keystone (please ignore the fact that I am not yet on the roster - we are technologically challenged). Though the spring has been a bit shoddy with regards to games, we have had our share of great practices, and I guess you could say that everyday I'm learning something that um....I didn't realize I had to learn. Which of course makes for a lot more work for me, but at least it's productive work. Since my genetics seem to have failed me in a number of areas, I've found it increasingly important to play the smartest rugby possible. In the past I've struggled to find day to day guidance with improving my "smart rugby" skills, especially with regards to the scrumhalf position. However, my new coach, Pete Steinberg, is constantly teaching me new skills and giving me new ideas to think about when I play. If I can survive all of the "You have a lot of work to do..." comments, I'll come out a much improved player ;).

Aside from vast improvements in the rugby scene, I've also had the chance to explore my hometown a bit. It seems Philadelphia keeps all of the good stuff hidden. The parks for example. Fairmount park is HUGE. It stretches through practically the whole city, provides bike trails, playing fields (albeit sprinkled with the occasional condom wrapper, but hey, beggers can't be choosers), hiking, horseback riding, and probably a whole lot of other crap that I just haven't stumbled upon yet. Here's the thing. Despite the fact that this park is sooo enormous, it is very unassuming. Philadelphia is set in a very wooded area, so on any given street there may be a tangle of brush and trees to either side. Now, where I come from, parks are usually labeled with a sign, usually a large one, that says something like "PARK". There are usually a few main entrances to said park (all easy to find due to roadsides for the surrounding 50 mile radius labeled "Park, THIS WAY"), where one can leave their car and then head out to a number of trails or fields in the area. Well, it took me a while to figure out that Philly is a bit different. While there certainly are a few main entrances and parking areas labeled by extraordinarily unassuming signs, it's more likely that a resident would enter through any of the MILLION side paths jutting out into the woods from just about anywhere. So remember the tangle of brush and trees I spoke about passing in and around the city? Well, it turns out that many times those wooded areas are actually connected to Fairmount park, and if you look hard enough, you can usually find a trail somewhere nearby. Sadly, it took me quite some time to figure it out. I was aware of the ginormous park in the area, but I would drive around endlessly looking for road signs and entrances, etc. In actuality, the closest entrance to me is a short 5 minute jog down the street, and aside from that, there are trails jutting out from just about every other playing field or recreational area in the city. So yes....I am learning.....about the parks, the driving, and so many other things....

That's it for now. Yo estudiando Espanol (I am studying Spanish), and I have to get back to that for a while. Look for more updates, more often now that summer rugby is getting back in action. I have lots to talk about (i.e. my third territory in a year), so stay tuned!!!

I haven't been purposely avoiding the blog, just busy getting started with pre-season activities and making sure my non-rugby life is in order. I'm in the process of applying to grad school here in Philly at La Salle. For some reason, I have decided that it would be a good idea for me to educate young people....but um...we'll see I guess. I'm also rededicating myself to getting my ACE personal training certification. Seeing that I haven't taken any anatomy classes since junior year of high school...it kinda sucks. But the studying is coming along pretty well.


As far as rugby, I guess you could say I've been busy reminding myself of why I started playing in the first place. I've been spending a lot of time out at Edgley Field (in the photo), running and kicking and sliding in the mud all by myself. It's very therapeutic for me - on those mornings when I'm out there all alone kicking my heart out, I never doubt how much I love the sport. It's only when other people and irrelevant complications get in the way that my doubts come in. Perhaps I should make sure I get more alone time whenever those doubts creep back into the picture...

In other news, I also went on an amazing trip to San Diego, bumming around with the midwest motley side Frost Giants at the Champagne Classic. Yeah, we kind of got our asses kicked a few times, but we did it with very few true backs, we fought hard, and had a ton of fun. Though I thought I might get a run or two at flyhalf, it turned out I spent the whole time at home in my #9 Jersey....however, my good friend and talented back-rower Jill Potter did spend quite a bit of time at #10, and we had a lot of fun running the games together! Here's a picture of me chilling on the beach...

Even though I didn't play flyhalf in San Diego, I DID get a run at 10 this spring after all. I have been trying my hand at coaching, albeit assistant coaching for the La Salle University Women's Rugby Club, and loving every second. Although most of them aren't much younger than me, they take direction very well, and it's really encouraging to give back. As an added bonus, I attended their alumni game a couple of weeks ago, and since it just so happens that I remembered my boots, I decided to join in on the fun. I took my spot at #10, popped my collar accordingly, and had a blast! I even completed my first successful "Gary Owen" kick with the help of another "fake" alumni player! Okay, so it wasn't the highest level of competition ever, but I definitely had a great time.

On a slightly more serious note, I have also begun practicing with my new team, Keystone Rugby Club. I've only been to a couple of sessions, but I am certainly enjoying myself and looking forward to getting to know everyone better. And of course, I can't wait to have a run out on the pitch.

Phew! Like I said, there's a lot of stuff that has been going on lately. I've been busy, busy, busy with rugby, work, and various endeavors of the moment, but I'm glad to say I'm feeling content with where I am at the moment. Still working hard. Still training hard. And still in Philadelphia....

I'll keep you updated!

-KY

As I've said a few posts ago, it's been a long winter (which would explain some of my animosity at the world lately). I'm never a very happy camper this time of year - ya know, just on the edge of spring but not quite there yet - so it's good to have a little pick-me-up every now and then.

Here is a quote that one of my very good friends posted on a personal blog of ours:

In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
-Albert Camus


The first time I read it, I didn't think much of it...but after reading it over a few times, I've found that it's a really powerful statement. Just thought I'd share with the rest of you out there who are suffering from the winter/non-rugby blues....

Well, despite being out of commission for about a week, my lifting still appears to be going up! Yay!

Not gonna post all of my lifts, but here are some of my improvements:

Back Squat: 165 x 1 -> 175 x 2

Deadlift: 200 -> 215

Pull-ups: 5 -> 7 (total number reps after 5 sets: 17 -> 29)


So, despite some ups and downs lately, I appear to still be moving forward, which is good. Now I just need this crappy weather to let up so that practices can start and I can remember how much I love rugby!!

In the meantime, here are the lyrics to my favorite song of the moment, by Josiah Leming. The lyrics are a great reminder that sometimes we just need to look all our naysayers in the face and say, "ya know what, I'm gonna do what I believe is right, and you can all go to Hell..."


Theysay:

They say, history will find us on the last train
and we'll make all the same mistakes that they made
and we could never rule tomorrow our way out
love...it's too late now
they say, nothing comes from going against their grain
and oh, we are the diggers of our own graves
and we will crash and burn before our train leaves this town
love...forgive me now

they can burn in hell
they can burn in hell

they say, we will live life dragging on the coattails
holding onto dreams of false fairy tales
and sleeping under bridges where our train breaks down
love...our light will drown

they can burn in hell
they can burn in hell


Hear the song for yourself here
It is the first song on the player at the top of the page.

So when my new camera finally arrived in the mail today, what else could be expected than an extended photo shoot of my most willing subject. Poor Brutus, he endures so much....but isn't he cute!?!?

Okay...so maybe I didn't get to go to San Diego when I REALLY wanted to, but thanks to my friends in the midwest, it looks like I'm gonna get to play in the sun and sand after all!

The champagne classic is a supposedly awesome tournament held every year over on the west coast, and I've always wanted to go. Just the other day I was sitting around the house, moping that all my friends had gotten to play rugby already this year, when I received a facebook message from one of last summer's New Zealand buddies asking if I'd like to go to the tournament with her team. Well....duh! I immediately got to work on making it happen - begging for a plane ticket from the folks, and expressing the fact that I am pretty much bankrupt to a kind Valkyrie who helped me with my San Diego budgeting. Thankfully, I got my ticket and determined that I could probably manage to be a cheapskate for that weekend and still have a wonderful time.

I also found out that they are kind of in need of backs. So, while I may be playing scrumhalf for some games....I may also be playing FLYHALF. Interesting.....I imagine that it may seem like some sort of out-of-body experience, playing in the position of the "other half" for a bit. I have to admit, if I do get the opportunity to play 10, I'll be pretty nervous. But it could be an exciting experience and an opportunity to improve my field vision and running skills.

Whatever happens, I am SOOOO excited to get to play!!!! This trip is just what I need to raise my spirits and get back into things in preparation for the spring season and select-sides. It's also really boosted my training motivation. I had been sick for about a week, but I'm all healed up now and taking on the world again, so that is another reason to smile.

Alright...I'm heading out into the cold now to get in a good endurance session. More on San Diego, my recent workouts, and (hopefully) an alumni trip to Iowa soon!

A long, long time ago in a land called Wales, a little angry man was leading a tired, jet-lagged, delirious group of about 30 rugby girls on a three mile trek through the park back to their hotel from practice. Along the way, we spotted a little cake that said "eat me"......so we did. Then, walking cards and giant caterpillars began walking out from behind the trees.

Okay, so we didn't really eat little cakes....but until today - the glorious day in which a friend posted this photo - I had no proof of ever meeting giant caterpillars. But yes, now I can say with certainty that Alice in Wonderland characters did, in fact, appear out of nowhere while walking through a park in Cardiff, Wales...for serious!

(excuse the poor quality - this was way back in 2004, before everyone had digital cameras)

Haven't done this in a while...but since I've been in a fairly somber mood as of late I thought I might as well post my latest poem. I guess it sort of goes along with my "long winter" mood. Anyways, here goes:



Colorblind


Some of us are blinded from the inside out.
With shrinking, shriveling, sad little hearts
Which turn two sparkling baby blues
To a hollow gray.

All the better to see you with,
My far away, immediate nothing.
Darkness? If only.
It’s the color that’s gone.

Gray as the sunshine,
Gray as the hole in my stomach
Gray as the pathetic, meandering
Apology I’ve imagined for myself
With love, from you.

Gray. Like the hilarity of hope.

No blackness, no dark,
Not blind of objects, nor of light.
Yet straining, tired, and bloodshot…
Numb, as the outside shines – sparkling, bouncing,
Brilliant against the gray, grey…gray -

Yes, blind.
Having seen it all,
And still, nothing but gray.

As I write, I’m sitting aboard a flight which has finally begun making it’s way back toward my so-called home of Philadelphia (sigh). I can’t lie anymore; I’m exhausted. Not tired. Not worn down. Not broken. Just plain exhausted.

Today has been a small microcosm of that exhaustion. As a sort of consolation gift for not being invited to attend the USA "A" camp in San Diego this past weekend, I traveled to Maine for three days of “extreme skiing” with a friend from last summer’s New Zealand tour. Normally, skiing wouldn’t be my activity of choice at the beginning of a rugby season. It’s an inherently dangerous activity, and especially so for me given that I suck at it – but I guess I felt like being a bit dangerous...

And so, I spent money I didn’t have, boarded a flight that had to be gifted to me by my parents, and endeavored to participate in an activity that isn’t quite my strong suit. Despite my fears (or hopes?) skiing went over fairly smoothly. I have the expected aches and pains from more than a few crashes, most from my day of snowboarding, but I’ve come away without any permanent damage, and even managed to get fairly comfortable chasing my much more adept friends down the intermediate slopes. My returning travel, however, has been another story...

I began the day expecting to hop on a flight out of Portland on a direct route to Philly. However, zero visibility fog changed those plans pretty quickly. My flight was cancelled, and pretty soon I found myself on a cramped bus bound for Boston, with a flight that was supposed to head out at 6:30 and arrive in Philly at a reasonable hour. Not so much. My flight out of Boston also ended up being delayed, and a couple of hours later, I finally boarded my flight sometime around 8:30. Countless painful minutes later, we were finally in the air. And here I am.

So basically, it goes like this....I went skiing this weekend to avoid reality. The snow drowned out the sun and sand of San Diego. The skiing drowned out the rugby. And the company drowned out my thoughts. Basically, I had a lot of fun and thought very little about a home which feels anything but mine, a maddeningly unfulfilling job, far away friends, and an uncertain future in the sport I love. But then instead of returning smoothly to regular life, I was given a day in which I had nothing else to do but sit in an airport and explore the darker caverns of my mind.

Which brings me back to my exhaustion.

With so much turmoil and uncertainty over recent months there have been more than a few moments where I have questioned my ultimate goal. I’ve questioned my abilities; I’ve questioned my worthiness; I’ve even questioned my desire. I came immeasurably close to packing it all in and heading out into the great unknown to begin a new life for myself, sans rugby. I tried soooo hard to take that step. I really, really, tried. And you know what the best (and worst) part is? I’ve come to realize I love it. More than anything and everything. I love the places it’s taken me and the friends it’s given me and the experiences I’ve had along the way. I’ve loved the hard practices out in the rain and cold as much as the sunny match day victories. I’ve loved the training and the socializing. I’ve loved the drama and the camaraderie. The grass. The mud. The ball. The pain. The travel. The home games. The friends. The rivals. The players. The coaches. I have loved everything. The gifts. The sacrifices. I have loved. And I love...

And so, I know that I shouldn’t retire from my dreams for lack of love. But as I’ve learned from my horrifically failed attempts at romantic relationships, love isn’t the only ingredient necessary for success. I can love rugby all that I want, but if I’m not good enough, I’m just not. Unfortunately, it’s too early to tell whether or not that’s the case, so I have to keep going. I have to keep trudging through this winter...

I’ve called it the longest winter in my title because that’s what it’s been for me. One long deep-freeze, despite the comparably fair temperatures outside. I made a lot of mistakes last fall. A lot. I played poorly at times, I said things I shouldn’t have said, I did things I shouldn’t have done, and as a result, my world was put into a bit of a blender. I haven’t really spoken about it on here up to this point because it wasn’t really appropriate but, I will no longer be playing for the Philly Women in the fall. They are an amazing team full of talent and wonderful people, but for whatever reason, I was not able to fit the mold. So for an entire off-season, I have been in limbo – struggling to decide where, or even if, I would continue to play. Once again, I will be a rookie – it seems that the Keystone club here in Philly will be my next stop, so at least I won’t be packing up anytime soon. But I have to start all over...learning names and playing styles and proving myself (or not). I have to find out, once again, where and if I fit.

Again, exhaustion.


Yet as I explained before – I’m in love. Hopelessly, recklessly, unconditionally in love with the sport of rugby and all the people and things that surround it. So regardless of the weary legs and broken hearts which are sure to lie in front of me, I’m going to keep pushing forward. Love, ya know...it’s a funny thing. It gives us wings and blinds us at the same time – a rather dangerous combination if you ask me. When soaring into the fog, the chances of crashing increase dramatically. But then, the only alternative is to remain on the ground...



Editors Note: This post was written Monday night, on the plane....I didn't post it till Tuesday, and you'll be happy to know (or maybe not I guess) that I made it home safe and sound around 11:30pm - about nine hours after my initial expected arrival time. Oh well...

Well, it seems that winter has certainly returned to the East coast in full force this week (or finally arrived, however you look at it), and oddly enough, I couldn't be happier. Having lived in Iowa for two years, I repeatedly griped over bone-chilling temperatures which seemed to stretch on for ages; but now I see it as sort of a character building experience. It let's one know that the human being is sturdier than might be expected, and that there are things to be enjoyed in the outdoors despite what may appear to be a less than inviting environment.

The tricky part, then, is getting started. From the comfort of my warm couch, the sound of the wind outside my window and the chill of the cold air seeping its way under the door and into my apartment are enough to deter me from venturing into the great outdoors. However, with the help of my obsession for training and a pleading look from Brutus I inevitably find myself bundling up for a trek into the deep freeze.

Despite the drawbacks, cold weather training sessions have never been a regrettable experience. There's just something really special about sprinting through the cold air and being surprising cognizant of the the nuances of the work my body usually performs without my knowing. It's the one time that breathing becomes tangible; the sting of the air inside the lungs and that extra push in and out make appreciable the work of those two invaluable organs. Not only that, but actually seeing the breath in front of me - the product of my effort in visual form. Moving down the line, my legs, whether covered or not, tend not to work as fluidly when faced with serious chill. On my return jog up the hill to the apartment, I had to continually remind them that, despite their protest, they could indeed continue to move me forward, one leg after the other, and at my desired pace. In addition, all this direction to the lungs and legs must be conducted above the screaming of half-numb fingers. It's a pain just tolerable enough that I remain assured that frostbite is not of concern, but just painful enough not to allow for a moment's respite. I suppose it's natures way of ensuring that all extremities remain intact, but it certainly can provide for a serious annoyance.

In spite of all the aches and pains of the cold weather experience, the beauty of it all inevitably shines through to make every second of discomfort worthwhile. In addition to puffs of crystallized breath rising into the air, the glitter of snow clings to every eyelash. The sounds are also worth the trip - or rather, the lack of them. Especially in a big city like Philadelphia, it seems that the parks and sidewalks are a rather crowded commodity in fair weather. Bikes, dogs, horses, runners, walkers, children, unicyclists - whatever - flock to the great outdoors whenever possible to escape the drudge of a what is one of the filthier cities I have encountered. However, cold weather seems to keep all but the most enthusiastic of those normal park-goers at bay, allowing for an unheard of amount of solitude. Only the sound of birds and the occasional footsteps of other hard-nosers like myself fill the air. When I do encounter one of them, a nod of the head is all that's needed to communicate an understanding. It's too cold to be outside and not be working hard, and far too cold not to open your mind for a moment and look around, appreciating what so many others are missing at that very same moment.

Indeed, I could certainly have chosen to perform the very same workout on a treadmill in the comfort of a heated fitness facility. However, I would have missed the intangibles. Sometimes, it's not the workout in itself that is so important, but the willingness to put in the work despite other obstacles. In rugby, more than perhaps other sports, we must learn to put in our best effort despite distractions. Sometimes the jolt from the last tackle or the pain from a busted finger must be overcome in order to get the job done. Likewise, occasionally sprinting outdoors on the days when the cold would encourage me otherwise is a great exercise in overcoming distractions and pain for the sake of a higher goal.


The moral of the story - winter is painful, but beautiful, too. I challenge all you cold-weather nay-sayers to bypass the drudgery of enduring these last few weeks of gloomy skies and bitter temperatures by facing up to it head-on. Actually experiencing the cold has helped me to not only appreciate what old man winter has to offer, but to grow quite fond of him in the process.

See ya'll out there.

Why post a video of a sneezing baby panda and it's mama? Well...why not?

If, after having thoroughly examined the "Friendsies" album, it is discovered that, supposing yourself and/or an associated party to be certifiable Friendsie material, you and/or associated parties have been thereby excluded and/or under-represented from said album either through negligence on behalf of Jersey #9 Friendsies Album Photo Uploader Associates, or as resulting from lack of possession of said photographs by Jersey #9 Friendsies Album Selection Committee members, offended parties may henceforth submit photographic material suitable for Friendsies Album inclusion to tmccoy09@gmail.com. Jersey #9 Executives and Associates sincerely apologize for any offenses heretofore committed, as demonstrated by current efforts to repair said damages, yet shall not be held liable for emotional distress and/or anguish as resulting from photographic Friendsies omissions, whether accidentally excluded or otherwise, and in addition, retain the right to reject, exclude, or otherwise alter any and all Friendsie submissions whereupon deemed necessary, as determined by the afore mentioned Executives and Associates, to the interests and aspirations of the blog in question, Jersey #9, and associated parties.

Since the apocalyptic weather seems to have passed, the normal chill of February announced to me this morning during my workout that it would be sticking around a bit longer. Let me just say, I hate running. I mean, jogging through the woods - yeah, it's fun. Running while chasing people or a ball or whatever - also fun. But running just to kick your own ass is kind of bizarre. In reality, I believe it to be an exercise in mental strength more than physical. After all, it hurts (sometimes it hurts a lot) and there is no one out there blowing a whistle or yelling or anyone racing you for some prize. And yet, a few times a week I get out there, put my toe to the goal line, and blast off for a leg & lung torture session.

Today was one of those days.

Last night I knew I was in desperate need of building an aerobic base beyond that which is accomplished by interval runs....so I came up with this little diddy:

4 x 100
3 x 200
2 x 400
1 x 800

(1 min. rest between reps, 2 min. rest between sets)

Total meters: 2600

Okay, so it didn't sound that hard. I mean....it looks so tiny and simple on a sheet of paper. But couple those stretches up and down the field with sore legs from heavy lifting, lots of wind, and some serious lung freeze from the cold air...and well, it's hard. I'm not saying I'm in the the best aerobic endurance shape ever or anything (because I'm certainly not), but I like to think that I still have a pretty decent base built up. At any rate, I'll want to complete a few more workouts like this on a weekly basis to prepare myself for the pre-season. After that I can start shortening the distances and focus a bit more on speed and speed endurance (which will be about %1000 more fun).

After my torture session, once my legs had solidified from their jello state and my brain freeze had subsided, I managed to get in a bit of kicking. Brutus is always pretty thrilled about that and provides a formidable opponent when attempting drop kicks. I've gotten pretty good at side-stepping his block/kill-the-ball attempts to slot one through the uprights, though. I'm kinda feeling like this could be the season for my first 3 pointer if by chance I get any runs at flyhalf - J-Wil, you'd better watch your back ;)

Other than that, I did a bit in the way of box kicking, but my legs were pretty shot and weren't really up to it. I decided to call it a day when black clouds took over the sky and chilly rain droplets began to compliment the wind.....brrrr...I guess I've been spoiled by the nice weather we've been afforded up here in Philadelphia - though at the great expense of our southern brethren who were beaten down pretty bad by the tornadoes. Hopefully those kind of storms won't be a sign of more disaster to come for 2008. In the meantime, I think I can handle a bit more cold weather, lung-freeze or not.

Today's workout went pretty well. I felt strong, uninjured, and cheerful throughout the whole ordeal - all three of which are hard to accomplish at the same time. Anyways, here are the results of today's workout:

Deadlifts: (reps x lbs)
5 x 95
4 x 135
3 x 155
2 x 175
1 x 185
1 x 190
1 x 200 (PR)
2 x 185 (F@1)
3 x 155
4 x 155
5 x 155


DB Bench Press: (reps x combined lbs of DB's)
5 x 50
5 x 80
5 x 90
5 x 90
5 x 90
5 x 90

BB Shrugs:
10 x 95
10 x 115
10 x 115

Chin-ups:
3, 3, 3


I had planned on finishing up the workout with V-Sits, but the whole ordeal was taking longer than expected and I needed to get home so I will add abs to my outdoor running, etc. tomorrow. No passing today...woke up too late =( . Maybe if I get a lot of work done early I'll head out and get in a few reps before it gets dark.

Adios amigos...

Brutus had a seizure tonight....it hasn't happened in a really long time, but when it does it's really scary - for both of us. The last time he had one was over a year ago, so I had hoped that it wouldn't ever occur again, but I guess I was wrong. So far as they know, it's nothing treatable - probably epilepsy, so I just have to wait it out if it happens.

Unfortunately tonight's episode lasted a long time. He shakes and loses control of his limbs and I'm pretty sure he loses his eyesight as well. The problem is, when it happens he'll do anything to get to me, which includes tripping over things and falling all over the place, risking injury. He seems to have come out of it now...but I'm still up keeping night watch because usually when he has one, another one follows.

There are a lot of things that I could handle losing in my life, but Brutus just isn't one of them. Sure, his day will come someday and I won't be ready then, either. But right now he's young and happy and healthy...and needs to stay that way for a long time. He's my best friend, my protector, and my constant companion....the very first day I picked him up from the animal shelter I remember saying that whatever happened from here on out, it was me and him...we'd do it together. Since then, we've seen a lot. He lived with me in student housing for a few months, then in my own apartment at UK. When I made the move to Iowa, he came with me and endured all of my random 12 hour drives home - just happy to be by my side. When I decided to make the trek to Pennsylvania, he was with me again - sleeping in the truck with me and all the belongings I had to my name before finishing the 16 hour drive to the east coast.

A lot of things have changed for me since the time Brutus has been in my life. There have been new cities and new schools and new jobs and new teams. There have been a lot of lonely days, hours, and weeks as well - but no matter what, Brutus has seen me through them all. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without him. He's the glue that holds my life together - the one constant. I just really hope he's okay...


"A dog is the only thing on earth that loves you more than he loves himself" - Josh Billings

What began as a fairly sluggish and disappointing workout ended well enough. I decided to start the week over from the beginning so as to stay on track...here goes:

Back Squat- (reps, lbs)

5 x 95
4 x 115
3 x 135
2 x 155
1 x 170 (Fail)
1 x 165
1 x 165 (Fail)
1 x 155
2 x 150
3 x 150
4 x 145
5 x 145 (F @ 4)

Pull-ups -
4, 3, 3, 4, 3

Hand Stand Push-Ups (with legs propped against bar) -
8, 8, 8, 8

Barbell Curls -
7 x 55
10 x 50
10 x 45

MB V-Sit Tosses -
20, 20, 20 (6 lb ball)



I was a bit disappointed I couldn't hit the 170 mark with my squats today, but I came in feeling more than a shade under spry, so I guess it wasn't that big of a deal. I will definitely hit it next week. I am curious about the use of heavy negatives when it comes to squats and building strength...I plan on looking it up and reporting back, but if anyone out there has any experience with this, let me know. I have dead lifts and front squats coming as my other major lifts this week and I'm really hoping that building my strength in both of those exercises will help me to improve my cleans when I move to power training.

At any rate, I found a spare patch of grass and a tall fence on La Salle's campus after I was done with lifting and decided to take a few passing reps. It actually went better than I expected considering the performance of my right hand on Saturday. Then again, I'm fairly certain that my hands aren't to blame for any of my passing woes - more likely my feet are the culprits. When passing with my left hand to the right, my right foot seems to be cooperating more with pointing in the direction of the pass than my left foot is when going the the other direction. I have a tendency to want to torque my body around, which has worked well enough for a while, but I know that I'm losing a degree of power and accuracy by passing that way. I'm sure I'll figure it out...it just takes time for the body to learn new tricks I guess.

All right. Time to work - have a good day, all.

In the spirit of renewal, I thought it might be time to update this blog a bit. I added an extra column, a rugby news feed, some fancy-shmancy slide shows, and a couple of my favorite RWC montages. Hope you enjoy...I'll probably be looking at some other gidgets and gadgets to include in the coming days....if you log on and things look kind of in a mess, well...it's probably because I'm screwing around with the format, so try again later.

In other news, the past couple of days have been spent working and catching up on my fitness a bit. After my heavy workout Thursday, I was looking to get to do a little bit of work outside but the rain stamped that out so I did about 35 min. of interval work on the treadmill instead. My legs were pretty angry after that so I spent the rest of the day friday working and using the rainy day to catch up on some reading, etc.

Yesterday I was a little bit on the sluggish side, but I made it out to the field nonetheless and actually managed to get in a pretty decent amount of skill work. Oddly enough, my drop kicks seem to be the part of my game which have improved the most. I don't really practice them very often, so I'm not really sure what that's all about, but oh well...maybe it'll help me along toward my life's goal of scoring a drop goal in a game =).

Working on my passing was also a little weird, because for some reason, my left handed pass has become a bullet, whereas my right handed pass is...eh...not so much. I worked on it for a long time and my right arm is screaming today from the effort, but hopefully I can catch it up to snuff with the left one again. Although, chances are at the beginning of the season I'll have to change my passing form completely so it won't really matter anyways - we'll see though.


As for today, "Stupor Bowl Sunday". Well. Yeah.

I watched a 6N game this morning - Ireland vs. Italy, which provided decent entertainment, even though my fave midget Peter Stringer wasn't wearing the 9 for Ireland. Since then I've just been messing around online...and then I'll probably go for a hike outdoors. And then, well, Brutus and I will probably settle in to watch the Pats and Giants and see what goes there. I don't really have an opinion on the winner, except that it might be cool to see the perfect Patriots stay that way...or I guess it could be cool to see the Giants break their hearts. Whatever I guess - it's something to do. I am quite a fan of Super Bowl parties but most of my friendsies are living in far off lands these days so I suppose I will enjoy the event with a couple of my less-talkative buddies (Brutus & P-Nutt).

Anyways, Happy Super Bowl and Six Nations to all!

It's amazing what a difference the little things can make. One phone call. One kind word. Someone to talk to over a meal of much-needed Mexican food.

A few days ago, I was on the verge of jumping ship. A lifestyle I had invested myself in had turned its back on me. Friendships I had valued were all but dissolved. My passion for a thing I had loved so very much was impossible to detect.

And then, things began to change.

One caring individual took me out to lunch, bought me some comfort food, and reminded me that some people do care. He didn't have to say a lot. Just took some time out of his day to listen a bit and offer some general advice about life. It's not that it even mattered all that much what he said. I think sometimes we just need to be reminded that we are not drowning in the abyss alone - to hear someone say, "Your life sucks right now. I understand that. Only you can make it better, but I will be here cheering you on". I didn't eat a lot at that meal, but I did soak up the company and wisdom of another human being, which was of far greater value to me than the food. Soul nourishment, you could say - and I certainly needed it.

The next day, looking upon my world with slightly brighter eyes, I learned that perspective is a funny thing. When I first began playing rugby, I believed that I was an immediate rock star. I remember imagining (falsely, of course) that there wasn't a girl in the world who could take me down or whom I couldn't take down. I believed I was immensely strong, I thought my passes were amazing, and that my knowledge was unsurpassed. Five years and much criticism later, I see the opposite. I see my passing as weak and inaccurate, my tackling suspect, my strength inferior, my speed downright embarrassing, and my knowledge as verging on the non-existent. In reality, I have likely improved by 100% in every category since my first playing days until now. However, the competition was easier and my standards were much lower. Even so, I believe in all things it is easy to forget how far we've come when we still have so far to go. Luckily I was given a reminder of the value of reviewing perspective upon meeting a few college rugby girls in the gym. Having recently had a discussion about how desperately I needed to improve my strength, I was working very hard on the weights in the hope of making some strides in that area. I didn't say much to the girls, just asked them their names and positions and told them I knew their coach and was thinking about helping out in the spring....Upon returning home, my teammate and their coach tells me, "You are going to love this. One of my girls just returned from the weight room and was telling me about how she had met U23 such and such player at the gym. She says to me, 'ohmygod she's jacked!'"

After I recovered from a fit of laughter, I realized that indeed, perspective is a funny thing. Looking back through the eyes of a wide-eyed college player, I realize now how proud of myself I would have been for having made it this far, and how much I would have killed back then for the skill and athleticism I have managed to create for myself through hard work and dedication.
I realize now that I must keep playing, not only to fulfill the dreams of the wide-eyed freshman college player I once was, but to rediscover the kind of passion which bore those dreams in the first place. I played because I loved it. And you know what, I still love it.


In a case of good things happening in threes, I am also happy to report that some of the absentees from my life seem to be slowly but surely reappearing. It's interesting that only a couple nights ago I would blog about having reached the breaking point in dealing with my losses, only to experience a surge at just the right time as to save my sanity. There is no greater feeling than to hear the voice of a sorely missed friend, especially one whom you were not sure you would ever hear from again, sounding from the receiver of the telephone. It's even better when the words are kind, the temperament is jovial, and all seems to have reconciled without skipping a beat. If the lessons we learn from past mistakes are kept in place, then perhaps a renewed friendship could prove better than the original.



To sum all of this up....I'm on a roll right now. Nothing insanely inspiring or magical has happened - just the return of normalcy. A compliment from a stranger, the voice of an old friend, and the company and kind words of another human at mealtime - all things easily taken for granted when present, and devastatingly missed once gone. Proof that the meat of life lies in the little things. In ourselves. In each other. In being ourselves with each other. As Winston Churchill said,


"Out of intense complexities intense simplicities emerge"


Amen to that.

So...I've never really been a cat person, mostly because they had been the source of allergy misery for most of my life until I found Allegra. However, this isn't an infomercial about the miracles of modern medicine. I just wanted to say that, well....cats aren't so bad I guess. I've recently gotten pretty attached to my roommate's cat, P-Nutt. He attacks Brutus, tries to steal my food, and gets into the cabinets when I'm not looking...but hey, at least he makes happy purring noises when he cuddles. I even broke down and bought him a catnip toy recently because I felt bad that Brutus had so many toys and he had none. Oh well, I guess I'm going soft in my old age. Here is a picture of P-Nutt helping me work today...enjoy!

It's not a permanent switch, but it's nice to see that at least one of the overpaid NFL players is interested in learning about another wonderful sport....check out the article, here.

For those of us with Setanta, there is reason to be excited. The Six Nations begins tomorrow and I couldn't be more ready to watch some exciting international rugby once again. On top of that, the Super Bowl will swiftly be upon us.....what a great weekend, eh?

Anyhow, I found this awesome montage of last years 6 Nations on Rugbydump.com . Great stuff for gearing up to watch this year!

Okay...so, first thing's first.

I was in a bad mood last night. I was cold, tired, lonely, and Brutus refused to cuddle. So I decided to write on my blog, and I was pretty negative. Reading over what I had written today made me feel a little bit blah. It was a pretty much a free-write of how I was feeling at the time and was certainly very honest. However, the various situations and relationships I was pertaining to are very complicated and not so cut and dry as last night's post would make it seem. Lost of people come in and out of our lives for various reasons. Usually when they leave, it makes me sad. Fair enough. However, sometimes things change and people just need time and space. There have been a lot of wonderful people in my life from whom I have drifted - I am not disposable and neither are they, it just...happens. In some instances, friendships have been rekindled and in others not. At any rate, that is not the point. The point is, I am at an interesting juncture in my life where a lot of my support channels have faded, my closest friends are all very, very far away, and I am struggling to figure out who I really am. That's a difficult question for all of us though, eh? We all have careers, and hobbies, and education and families and so forth that help to define us....but in the moments when all of that is stripped away, the silence can be deafening. I am learning though - and I want it to be a positive experience. That's why I erased last night's blog. Because, well, it wasn't positive and it wasn't going to help me toward any goals or self-betterment. It would only remind me of my failures and self-doubt.

Anyways, if you didn't read yesterday's blog then all of that makes no sense and you've probably got a big wtf look on your face right now. If you did read it, it probably still doesn't make a lot of sense, but at any rate, I feel better now. Okay....moving on.


Recently, I have been informed of my squat max inferiority. Thus, I am setting out to remedy such faults through a lot of strength focused workouts. Here is the assault I inflicted upon my legs today:

Back Squat: (reps x lbs)

5 x 95
4 x 115
3 x 135
2 x 155
1 x 165
1 x 175 (fail)
1 x 170 (fail)
1 x 155
2 x 145
3 x 145
4 x 135
5 x 135

Pull-ups:
3,3,3,3,2 (arms were shot from the other day)

Dips:
8,8,8,8

Knees to Elbows:
6,5,6

This was the workout I planned to do and stop there...but then, I had more energy. Now, as an athlete I don't see a whole lot of point in doing bicep curls, they don't really accomplish much by themselves....however, I just felt like it. They make me feel good, like I'm strong or something dumb like that....so I did them.

Bicep Curls
12 x 45
10 x 45
10 x 45


All in all, the workout was fairly enjoyable. Lifting heavy stuff makes me feel strong. However, at 155 on the squats I was feeling like a rock star, thought I might make it to 175 or even 180. But....no luck there. I probably would have been able to get 170 had I went for it before the 165, but no dice. We'll find out next time I suppose.


In other news, since it appears I am going to be in the city of brotherly love for a while longer, I am looking into going back to school. Teaching seems to be the route I'm drifting in, so I'm gonna need to get certified and get a masters in ed and all that stuffs. Also, I'm dreading having to figure out which profs from undergrad to get recommendations from. I mean, will they even remember me? I have very good grades but it just seems like so many students come and go. Anyone have any experience with this?? I don't really even know where to start....oh well. More on this when I figure it out a little further....

So...today's workout was really fun in a completely terrible way. I decided to do a purely crossfit workout since I haven't done that in a while, and it was umm...well...not the easiest. Of course, I knew that going in. If you know anything about crossfit and have searched around the site at all, you'll have noticed that some of the workouts are named after fallen soldiers. Since a lot of military personnel use crossfit as their conditioning regimen, and since the crossfit community at large is extremely supportive of the troops regardless of politics, it's meant as sort of a tribute and as an occasional reminder of the sacrifices being made on this country's behalf. Well, fittingly, all of the fallen soldier workouts tend to have a bit of an extra "umph" to them difficulty-wise. So when performing "Joshie", let's just say that I knew what I was getting into.

The workout went as follows:

3 rounds for time of

21 pull-ups
21 right arm db snatches
21 pull-ups
21 left arm db snatches


Let me just say, wow. I am still a long way to go on being able to do high rep pull ups, so all of mine were performed as jumping pull ups. The snatches were performed with a 25# Dumbbell (I initially planned on using a 30#, but then told my ego to shut the hell up). Also, I broke it up so as to not burn out on any one exercise and have to take a long break. Each round went as follows:

7 PU
7 RADBS
7 PU
7 LADBS
7 PU
7 RADBS
7 PU
7 LADBS
7 PU
7 RADBS
7 PU
7 LADBS


So that's 42 pull-ups and 42 snatches per round for a grand total of
126 pull ups and 126 1-arm snatches. BAM! I gotta say, this isn't the type of workout that I need to be doing every single day, but it was a great one for cardio and muscular endurance. Also, it helped to have to concentrate on snatch form even through the exhaustion. Great workout, great mental toughness builder. Unfortunately, I forgot my stopwatch so I didn't time myself but just went as fast as possible. I'm guessing I was somewhere in the 20 minute range, but who knows...

Luckily, tomorrow is a day off so I can eat, ice, recharge and get ready for the next 3-day cycle. I sense some sprint form and passing work on the horizon for Thursday, but we'll see if the weather cooperates.


At any rate, I need to wake my snoring puppy up and get his butt out the door for his workout. I think I can probably handle a jog in the woods to get his energy out because I'm gonna need to bust my tail working for the rest of the day and probably into the night. I kind of skipped out yesterday so I need to double up my hours for today in order to earn le cash. Such is the life of procrastinator. Adios mis amigos...

Before I post my workout for the day, I have to address a condition I'm going to call "Weight Room OCD". It's where...well...you spend more time organizing the weight room during your resting periods than you do your own home. I haven't really had this problem in the past, but every morning when I walk into my current gym it looks like a bunch of crazy gorillas have taken the equipment and just strewn it about in every direction (which is probably pretty close to the reality). To be fair, I COULD just shove things away from the space I need and then go about my workout, but something inside me just won't let me leave well enough alone. Before I know it, I'm hauling 80lb dumbells across the room and throwing them on the rack, organizing all the weights by size and type, and taking all the plates off of the bars and putting them away even when I'm not using that equipment. Hell, sometimes I even put away the weight belts and barbell pads and I never use that stuff. I don't know why, but for some reason I get a deep satisfaction out of watching the gym transform from chaos at the beginning of my workout to being ready for a university brochure picture by the end.....and ya know, I get a bit of an extra workout too, so it's kind of like a bonus. Anybody else out there have this problem, or am I just crazy??


At any rate, my workout for today was a heavy, lumbering one. I'm gonna be doing these fairly regularly to try to up my maxes in a few different workouts. Since I'm going heavy I have to take pretty long rests - between 2 1/2 to 3 min so I was allotted plenty of OCD organization time today....here's what I accomplished:


Power Clean -
5x45#
5x65
5x85
5x95 (had to do the 95's w/ a bit of an extra breather in between each one to focus on form)
5x95
5x95
6x85

Front Squat -
5x45#
5x65
5x95
5x115 (fail@2, then +1+1+1 w/ 15 sec rests)
5x100
5x100

Physio Ball DB Bench Press - (weight is both db's combined)
5x70#
5x80
5x90
5x90
5x90
5x90

Knees to Elbows - (hang on pullup bar w/ palms facing out, touch your knees to your elbows)
1x5(reps)
1x5
1x5

All in all it was a pretty good workout. Some of my numbers were kind of low, especially on the FS, but I think my legs were still a little sloshed from yesterday. I felt good though, and was able to hammer through everything more or less without incident (although I did get pretty hungry!). I hope to get out a little later and maybe get some passing reps in, but that all depends on how I'm feeling. However, I'll most likely take Brutus for a hike no matter what - it's hard to neglect him of his favorite part of the day no matter how angry my legs are.


Oh, P.S. I got this video off of a crossfit site....ummm, if anyone out there can do this, I demand a demonstration ASAP. AMA-ZAZ-ING stuff!!!

Well, this may start looking more like a workout log in the coming days/weeks/months however long I keep up with writing stuff down here. It saves paper and is an easy way for me to look things up and to share/compare with others.

To be honest I've been a bit conflicted about all things rugby lately, but as far as I'm concerned that's no reason to slack on training so after a couple days of thought-hiking (roaming in the woods for hours on end with Brutus so as to clear my head) I'm back to the grind in the gym and on the field. Yesterday I did a workout that doesn't sound so bad, but really kicked my ass....here goes:

3 rounds:

100 meter sprint
20 pushups
10 tuck jumps
45 second rest
100 meter sprint
20 crunches
10 tire thrusters


So...it turns out tire thrusters, when done after sprinting, are a serious ass kicker. It was a fairly short workout but definitely got me about as close to a "I want to die" on the perceived effort scale as I've felt in a while. After catching my breath I did quite a bit box kicking/drop kicking practice with both feet and then did my traditional playing soccer with the rugby ball routine with Brutus. He loves attacking the ball but is good about not sinking his teeth into it. He keeps me moving and I get a good little aerobic workout while we play. To close things out we went for a brief hike before my fingers started to get frostbitten and Brutus decided it would be a good idea to try to eat the horse poop. Poop eating + frozen fingers = time to go home =).

During the off-season, it can be pretty hard to motivate myself to do any kind of grueling endurance workouts. I don't need many - my focus is more on improving speed, strength, and agility at the moment - but I don't like to let go of my cardio conditioning completely because it's so miserable to gain it back from nothing. That said, I like to have one sort of amazingly terrible workout per week - just to keep my perspective. My current workout plan includes half hour skill sessions 2-3 times per week; lifting mon, wed, fri; sprints and plyos tues; interval/recovery run thurs; and what I have dubbed my "Neanderthal Runs" on friday. These friday workouts are sort of a mix between crossfit, interval runs, mma conditioning, as well as rugby skill movements and my own special touches here and there.

Here is the workout I did today - took me about 28 minutes to complete and kicked my ass for the first high intensity workout I've done in a while. It was a lot of fun though and I'm looking forward to what I can come up with in the coming weeks. My goal is to find new ways to include rugby skill movements to make the workouts a bit more sport specific. Some of the workouts might be slightly more on the anaerobic side with the intensity upped and the rests lengthened, while others might include more running/jogging active rests and a slightly lowered intensity. I'm just playing with it all at the moment, but excited to see what I can do!

1 lap jog around the field
dynamic warm-up


Bear Ladders: 4 rounds

5 tricep push-ups
50 meter sprint
5 squat jumps
50 meter zig-zag sprint
5 tire thrusters (squat holding the tire, then shoulder press it as you stand up)
50 meter tire flip/throw (3 flips, then clean it up and throw, repeat)
5 plyometric clap pushups using tire (hands on each side of the tire - clap in midair, hands back on tire, repeat)
25 meter double footed hops
25 meter bear crawl (hands and feet on the ground)
rest 1 minute

3 minute rest

Triangle drill: 4 rounds

10 x 10x 10 meter triangle - (cones at the base, tire at the top)

start at a cone - shuffle to next cone, sprint to the tire, circle the tire twice with hands on top and feet shuffling as fast as possible, backpedal to cone, shuffle to next cone. Switch directions each round, repeat.

Rest 30 seconds between rounds.

3 minute rest

Drag Sprints: 10 rounds

20 meter sprint
20 meter backpedal tire drag (I hooked a dog leash around the tire for dragging purposes)
Jog back active rest, repeat


If you decide to try it - tell me what you think!