Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

Ok...so I didn't completely think of it on my own. A friendly leprechaun/rugby coach friend of mine gave me the initial idea.

Anyways....it is a passing contraption for scrumhalfs who don't have friends to catch the ball for them all the time. A tire, held aloft by a rope, or possible held out from a wall by ginormous nails or whatever you wish, is connected to a net/returning device of your choosing which is angled back toward the passer for easy retrieval.

Here is a diagram:



Unfortunately, I have no place to put such a thing. But SOMEDAY I will create this and my life will be complete.

I think back to my days as an English major, and I remember those circular class discussions which posed such questions as "Why are we here?", "Who are we?", "Do we even exist?", etc, etc. The questions were never answered, and we mostly laughed about the discussions. However, I always walked away from those talks feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Wait...why are we here????" I would ask myself as I marched away to my next class, or perhaps out to my car for the drive home. I would be prompted to question why it is I do the things I do - which things really make me happy, which things are actually necessary (if there is such a thing), and why I do the things that aren't. Inevitably, these questions would fade after a few hours and I would fall back into my routine, performing the ins and outs of daily life without much thought as to a motive. It's impossible to question every action of every day without driving oneself insane, so this was probably a good thing...


Today as I begrudgingly walked back and forth between the sweaty-man filled basketball courts and lycra infused weight room at LA Fitness in order to fulfill the requirements of my plyo-power day, I hit a wall of "rugby existentialism". "Why the f@#$ am I doing this?" I kept asking myself. Not that it stopped me....even as mentally I was questioning my desire to even BE at the gym, physically I was marching through the program right on cue. 4 hang cleans, sprints off the ground, box jumps, now back to do power snatches...and on and on until the entire process is finished, I'm bundled up, and headed back to my house, exhausted.

At least that's one reason for doing what I do - tuckering myself out. I tend to have a bit of a problem with thinking too much (like right now, for example) and at least when I am tired I am more likely to let things go. However, there are plenty of other ways to get oneself tired. Being social, for instance. Or perhaps getting a job that gets me off of the couch a few days a week...

But okay, let's say that it's good to work out because of health benefits. This may be true, but what I do goes way beyond health benefits. Working out the numbers, it's downright scary how much time I spend on rugby/training in general. On average, let's say I spend 2 hours per day, 6 days per week doing some form of exercise - lifting/running/etc. That's 12 hours. Then add to that about 3 hours per week of skills in some form - sometimes they are outdoors, sometimes it's just indoor handling work, it varies. So that's 15 hours. Now add analyzing at least 3 games per week of 80 min...that's around 4 hours. So 19 hours. Now input all the random stuff I do throughout the day such as pullups, pushups, situps, etc, as well as the transit time to and from all of this working out, not to mention the hours I spend planning my workouts, reading info, doing mental imagery "workouts", talking about rugby, etc, etc, etc....and you get the idea. I spend A LOT of time being a rugby player and I certainly do not get paid for it.

So then, if I do not get paid, why else might I do it. Well, there's the obvious, given this blogsite: I have set goals for myself. Very true. I have in the past (and still may, though I try not to let on so much these days) had a goal of playing on the Women's National Team. This goal used to be at the heart of every decision, every movement, every thought I had throughout almost every day. I never asked why, because I knew. I transferred universities for this goal, I avoided relationships for this goal, I set aside career opportunities and jobs and basically....life...for this goal. I don't say this bitterly, however, because I miss the days of life being so simple. Nothing makes me happier and more purpose driven than to be able to say "I am doing this, and this is why". It's clean, it's simple...A + B = C, that sort of thing.

Yet, somehow, things got muddier over the past couple of years. I still have this goal, though it's much more difficult for me to readily admit it. That's the thing about goals. They get scarier once you actually admit them, especially if the people you admitted them to are all standing around staring at you saying, "Well....isn't it about time??"

Lately I have been thinking to myself, isn't it interesting how we adjust our answers to those observers according to the outcome.....for example, were I to get some sort of tour invitation in the next few years, I'm sure I would say something like, "I never gave up hope, I fell down a thousand times and just kept on going. I worked hard day in and day out, and it paid off". On the other hand, let's say it never happens. I would say something more along the lines of, "Life is about the journey, sometimes we set goals and they have to be adjusted according to the circumstances. I may not have gotten what I originally set out for, but I had wonderful experiences, made wonderful friends, and enjoyed being a great athlete while I was able".

It makes me chuckle just to write this. Because neither statement is true, nor are they lies. I do work hard day in and day out, and yes, life is about the journey. But on the other hand, I have given up hope a million times, and hell NO I don't think goals are 'adjusted to the circumstances', I think that sometimes we just aren't good enough and have to make up excuses and compromises to make ourselves feel better....


So again, back to my questions of why I do what I do. Technically, I could simply let myself off the hook a little, and assume I am never going to reach my previous "goal" - "adjust to the circumstances," if you will. But then what? Something tells me that even then I would keep coming to the gym, keep banging out reps, keep working toward a futile self improvement. I could tell people that it's for my team - though the truth is that my team would be fine with or without me, and has plenty enough (and certainly capable enough!), players in my position to take care of business whether I show up or not.

Honestly, I don't know why I do it. And maybe this random blog will have to end the way those discussions of "Why am I here?" always did...without any answers. I can't say why I work so hard, or why it matters, or why I even choose to play rugby at all. I don't know anything except that I do it, and that I have no choice. No matter how I feel tomorrow, no matter what happens, I will wake up and know that training for rugby is going to be a part of my day. It is who I am, it is the person and the life I've created for myself, and I don't know why.....it just is.