Jersey #9: Kentucky's Journey

Winter Thaw

2009-03-06T12:20:00.003-05:00

Aside from the excitement of the 7's World Cup going on as I type this (GO USA MEN AND WOMEN!!!) it's been a bit quiet for a while in the rugby world, but with the Northeast (finally) thawing out a bit, I am just as eager as anybody to get back outside and get to work.

This winter has been full of injuries and illnesses for me ever since Christmas, so I have been taking it rather easy. It seems the time off has done me well, however, as I am feeling strong and recharged, and ready to get my lungs in shape to play some great rugby this spring.

Aside from playing, I have been spending much of my time assistant coaching Princeton Women's Rugby as their head coach, ES, has been off globe-trotting around the world with the Men's 7s National Team. Coaching is a whole different thing entirely from playing, and it has been a learning experience, but I'm certain that looking on the situations from a new perspective will allow me to become a better player in the end, not to mention helping out a great group of athletes so that they do not have to go coach-less for much of the spring.

Coming back from illness, I have been putting in some pretty serious lifting and crossfit workouts over the past week, however today will be the first day that I start to get my lungs stretched out from their bout with bronchitis. I've committed lately to putting an emphasis on skills, so fitness sessions are going to be coupled with passing and kicking much of the time over the course of season. At any rate, I thought I'd share what I've come up with for the day in case anyone else would like to give it a whirl.

More updates (and possibly some excitement!) to come as the spring progresses!

Here is the workout:

400 meter easy jog, dynamic WU

Ladders x 6 w/ ball in hand
x 6 side-step movement repetitions

Passing progression
pop to wall (2 each)
pass to wall - no wrist (2 each)
pass to wall - wrist (2 each)
pass to wall - 5m jog (2 each)

rest 2 min

SH Shuttles (300m shuttle w/ passes)
5 balls/passes
30 m
x 5
1 min rest b/w reps

rest 3 min

kicking progression
100 meter down/back walking tap
100 meter down/back jog/tap
100 meter down/back grubbers

kick and gather x 10 (various kicks - box, pop, chip, grub) (50 m sprint, jog back)

400 meter easy jog/stretch

--Approx. 3500 meters total running--

So I thought of this thing...

2009-01-21T18:53:00.003-05:00

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.

Rugby Existentialism

2009-01-14T18:59:00.002-05:00

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.

Women's Rugby Development Manager

2008-12-09T13:15:00.003-05:00

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!

Getting in the Holiday Spirit

2008-12-07T20:54:00.004-05:00

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....

Please don't make fun of me if I'm the last person to have discovered this, but...

2008-12-06T10:03:00.003-05:00

...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.

In order to occupy my stupid self...

2008-12-05T09:16:00.002-05:00

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!

Happy Holidays!!!

2008-12-02T07:49:00.004-05:00

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.

My Wing is Brokeded =(

2008-11-24T11:05:00.009-05:00

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......;)

centering breaths, starting over, and off-season resolutions

2008-11-23T10:14:00.004-05:00

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

There are things other than rugby, I'm just not sure where they live.

2008-09-23T09:28:00.003-04:00

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...

I changed stuff.

2008-09-17T23:30:00.003-04:00

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

The Sun, the Stone, and My New Take on Philly

2008-06-04T06:35:00.002-04:00

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!!!

Ch-ch-changes....(and some things stay the same)

2008-03-23T22:04:00.005-04:00

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

A Good Quote From a Good Friend

2008-02-28T21:59:00.002-05:00

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....

Max lifts going up

2008-02-28T11:40:00.003-05:00

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.

New Camera = Brutus Photo Shoot!

2008-02-27T16:42:00.004-05:00

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!?!?

San Diego After All (and perhaps an experiment in flyhalfness!)

2008-02-26T07:10:00.003-05:00

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!

So...this one time...

2008-02-21T15:15:00.004-05:00

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)

Random Poetic interlude...

2008-02-20T10:11:00.002-05:00

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.

Consolation Prizes of the Longest Winter

2008-02-19T16:48:00.004-05:00

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...

Winter Musings

2008-02-12T10:11:00.000-05:00

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.

Random Bit of Happiness...

2008-02-11T00:11:00.000-05:00

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

FRIENDSIES ALBUM DISCLAIMER:

2008-02-07T22:59:00.001-05:00

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.

Lung Freeze

2008-02-07T18:37:00.000-05:00

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.