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.

Deadlifts = Fun

2008-02-06T12:28:00.000-05:00

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...

really bad night...

2008-02-05T02:25:00.000-05:00

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

The Daily Grind

2008-02-04T12:33:00.000-05:00

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.

New Stuffs

2008-02-03T14:23:00.001-05:00

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!

my planets are realigning

2008-02-02T01:17:00.000-05:00

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.

Werkin' w/ P-Nutt

2008-02-01T14:44:00.001-05:00

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!

American Footballer giving rugby a try...

2008-02-01T11:52:00.000-05:00

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.

Six Nations Time!!!

2008-02-01T08:48:00.000-05:00

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!

Heavy stuff (and an explanation)

2008-01-31T18:39:00.001-05:00

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....

ummm...ouch.

2008-01-29T09:15:00.000-05:00

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...

Heavy Day & Weight Room OCD

2008-01-28T10:18:00.002-05:00

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!!!

Hmmm...just keeping track

2008-01-28T06:51:00.001-05:00

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 =).

Off-Season Stuffs

2008-01-05T19:13:00.001-05:00

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!

It's not the size of the dog in the fight....

2007-12-17T10:07:00.000-05:00

There have been a lot of changes in my life recently. As such, I've been doing a lot of soul-searching; as pertains to rugby and otherwise. Along my "vision-quest" of sorts, I found this quote by one of the most intelligent and visionary men to ever live, Albert Einstein:

"If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things"

Sad...but essentially true. I don't think this means that we have to exclude people and things from being important in our lives...but I do think it means not denying oneself. Treat the people you love with respect and dignity, always. Along your travels toward your goals, meet people, make friends, love, live, indulge....but refuse to sacrifice yourself. There will be a lot of people who come in and out of your life - but the only one who remains through the end is yourself. Those who really care will support you - maybe not at first - but always in the end. And those who don't...well, maybe it hurts, but you have to leave them behind. Take them for what they were, for the happiness you may have shared with them at one point or another, and let them go. Turn around and run toward your dreams. Write those dreams down, make each step a means to an end, and refuse to compromise till you've nothing left...and then crawl the rest of the way.

If you don't make it, at least you've given yourself to a worthy cause - fought your best fight. And unlike so many people who refuse to take the risk, you'll know what you're truly capable of, for better or worse.

Friends, live your best life - not absent of mistakes or failures - but full of attempts and good intentions. Wish the best for others in the hope that they become challengers along the path toward your own best self. Be optimistic that others will wish the same for you, but don't depend on it. Sometimes the right choice can be a lonely one, but show me a man who survives and presses on in spite of all else, and I'll show you a man who dies with least regrets. Says Gandhi:

"Joy lies in the fight, in the attempt, in the suffering involved, not in the victory itself."

I, for one, will keep on fighting. I hope to see you there.

Kenny Rogers Rugby Fan?? Who knew???

2007-10-15T16:26:00.001-04:00

Wow...so I know I haven't blogged in like a million years, but I stumbled across this and had to share it with the world. It might be one of the weirdest things I can imagine finding, but hey, that's what's great about youtube! So...yeah...good on ya, Kenny for being a rugby fan, and with all my other faves out of the running, go England!

Holy #!%$! I'm going to New Zealand!!!!

2007-07-09T19:07:00.000-04:00

So it's finally sinking in. Less than 2 weeks to go and suddenly here I am with checks from sponsors rolling in, friends flying in to train, and hella sore legs from the killer workout we've been given to help us stand up against the kiwis. Suddenly, I'm realizing that in a few short days I'm going to be arriving in a place I've dreamed about since I was a kid. And I won't be on any ordinary vacation, either. How many people get to say that they've visited three different countries and both hemispheres to represent their country in anything, let alone the greatest sport on the planet!?! Sure, this isn't the end of the road. My ultimate dream is to play in the next world cup as a REAL Eagle, but for now, I'm definitely stoked about this! It's the trip of a lifetime, and even though I'm sure it will be cold, and wet, and at times damn near miserable - I can't think of a better way to spend my time.

When I think about where I started, it's pretty amazing really. Watching those old tapes of my first games partly makes me cringe, and partly makes me smile. I was just a crazy tiny kid who thought it was awesome that I'd found a sport where I actually got to hit people! And then all of the sudden somebody thought I was good, somebody else thought I had potential, and then, well...I started to believe it. I worked harder, trained harder, and then the competition got harder. Where I had been so confident as a newcomer, I learned to question myself instead. There were so many good players, so many talented athletes....and I was, well....I didn't think I was all that special. But I kept working anyways, and somehow I've made it here. There are so many things in my life that I've worked really hard to achieve, but very few actual achievements. Rugby has given me that one thing that I can truly be proud of. No matter what happens later on in my life, I'll always have these trips, and these friends, and these memories. Unlike so many other things, it's not about money, or fame, or titles, or anything else...it's just about the journey and the experience, and that's what makes this game so special.

I'll most likely be keeping tabs on this particular part of my journey via this blog....so stay tuned for the goings-on of myself and the U23 National Team as we journey to the south pacific for a taste of real rugby country.........

Philly, Kiwi tour, and my new life among wolves

2007-06-29T09:32:00.000-04:00

So I'm finally back. About a month ago the world conspired to end my bloggerness for a while, but now I should be ready to spend some time back online. I have a new laptop (a mac, no less) that I can only hope will be more reliable than the PC's of my past....

In other news, I made the New Zealand tour!!!!! The invites came out just after the NASC tournament and I was lucky enough to be among those that got one. As for the tournament itself, things went okay I suppose. Although the Midwest weren't able to take back the title, losing to Marfu by 2 in the semis, we did come back to avenge last year's loss to the West and keep our place in tier one. Both games were great matches with a lot of hard hitting, fast rugby.

The week went by pretty fast, first with lots of practices (sometimes even three in a day!), and then the games...after that I was lucky enough to spend a couple crazy days with my friends Jill and Juanita bumming around Minneapolis. I don't want to go into all the details, but lets just say that over the course of one day, we went from talking to some crazy crack dealers on a bus to sitting in a $10,000 dollar massage chair on the 32nd floor of some high rise luxury apartments.....don't ask....

When I finally made it home alive (no small feat) it was time to pack things up and get ready for Philly!! It seems that I sort of underestimated the task because I waited until the very last moment to get everything together and actually get the process underway. Since my parents had decided that the trip from Kentucky to Iowa, Iowa to Philly, and Philly back to Kentucky was just too much, it suddenly became my job to pack everything I owned into my truck, and sell or toss everything that wouldn't fit. As it turns out, a lot of stuff didn't fit..........so after many, many hours of tossing I finally had everything together and ready to go at 11pm on Saturday night. One disasterous hotel break, many rest stops, and what seems like a million hours later, I arrived in Philly at around 1:30am Monday morning....

Since then, I've settled in a bit. Everything still isn't unpacked and I'm a little overwhelmed with all that's on my plate at the moment. Life with 4 dogs and 2 people is a lot different from my previous 1 person 1 dog lifestyle. On top of that, I'm job searching, finishing online courses, fundraising for NZ, and of course, training. Somehow I'll make it all happen, but in the meantime I'll be here at the house of a thousand dogs trying to find my place in the big city....

Collegerugbyamerica?? No thanks...

2007-05-17T17:52:00.000-04:00

When all the banter started across the blogs about Collegerugbyamerica and EIU's NCAA DI Varsity program, I told myself I would sort of stay on the outskirts. I've made a few comments here and there, thrown in my two cents when I just couldn't help it anymore, and otherwise laughed and sat bewildered at the insanity coming out of Collegerugbyamerica.com and from the "anonymous" comments on its behalf. But as the misinformation and blatant disrespect for club rugby have built, I have become increasingly uncomfortable with keeping quiet about my own personal experience with Eastern Illinois' rugby program, and think it's a story worth sharing with my fellow "recreational athletes".

As it turns out, about two years ago this little "hobby" that I play could have landed me a spot in Coach Graziano's set of "Student-Athletes". That's right - I, a lowly club rugby player, was RECRUITED by Eastern Illinois University and Coach Graziano himself. Interesting, seeing as how there seems to be such an adverse attitude toward club rugby coming from the EIU camp, but I digress...

As I was saying, it all started because I was looking for a new rugby home. I loved playing for Kentucky, but after having played U19's and deciding that I really wanted to push my rugby potential to the limit, I knew that I would need to move elsewhere. With the support of my Kentucky coaches, teammates, and select-side coaches, I began searching for a new college home. The only thing I knew about EIU was that they were a varsity program, and that there was a possibility of a scholarship, so naturally I shot an email their way. I listed my credentials in the "club rugby" world - U19's, Ohio U23's - and was overwelmed by the response. Much interest was thrown in my direction, and Mr. Graziano and I exchanged many emails about the prospect of playing for him. Playing for EIU meant a possible scholarship, practicing everyday, trainers, no more paying for trips, conditioning coaches...the list goes on and on. No doubt, I was excited. What I had been craving at Kentucky was an intensive rugby environment with better competition, highly skilled teammates, and an atmosphere where I would be pushed in the same way I had been while playing for the USA U19's. On the surface, EIU seemed like a great place to do that.

However, in the meantime I was also starting to feel a little less than thrilled about the prospect of leaving my home state, friends, and all the comforts of home - basically I was chickening out. I decided to shoot EIU's coach an email and tell him that I was no longer interested.....but WOW - what a response. It seems my status as a "recreational athlete" was not a deterent to the coach at this point, because he was pretty determined to keep my interest and offered to drive all the way to Kentucky so that we could chat for a few hours. He did just that. Still not sure if I was really all that into the EIU thing anymore, I met with coach and listened to his speel about free cleats and free this and free that....free, free, free. Everything, it seemed, was about money.......but at this point that wasn't such a bad thing for me because I knew my parents would be very interested in hearing that they wouldn't have to dish out a bunch of cash in order for me to transfer. I spoke about my love for rugby and my dream of one day playing for the Women's National Team, and coach simply went on about the opportunities for being a real "student-athlete", for getting academic-athletic awards, etc. At any rate, I was at least interested, and decided to set up a recruiting visit.

My parents and I made the drive across the cornfields to Charleston, IL where we were to be immediately impressed by the loads of glitter and glam surrounding the women's rugby program...NOT. Actually, we were set up in a seriously lowsly hotel (paid for by the "recruiting budget") and then made our way to a rather average looking university with rather average rugby fields and less than average facilities. Coach wore a suit and was very official and all that, but in truth, nothing about EIU was all the glamorous - and certainly not near as nice as those "hobby" fields for those "recreational" club players out at Stanford ;) . Anyways, we did the tour, we talked to professors, and yeah, we talked a bit of rugby. But nothing we talked about rugby was what I was expecting. Coach told me that I could "choose my own number" (but I thought I was a nine!?) and that when his team traveled, there would be no socializing or even talking to the other "club" team. Instead, EIU would get to use varsity facilities while the home club did not, and then would march out on the field, play the game, and leave without talking to the other players. I was also told that during the offseason (which is a LOOONG one considering EIU only plays in the Fall) I should take a break from any rugby activities and play intramural basketball and focus on other hobbies. Over and over again it was insisted that rugby is "just like every other sport". I was also told that EIU's girls players don't socialize with the men's club team because they are more suited to hanging out only with the other "Varsity" athletes. He talked about how everything should be done the same as all the other sports, and over and over again referred to how the "folks" in the USA Rugby community were backward, misinformed, uneducated about college athletics, and were creating no future for the sport....

The real kicker comes when talking about select-sides. I was not at all shy about talking excitedly about my experiences in the USA U19 program - after all, it had taken me all the way to three different countries and several states along the way - and so Mr. Graziano was clear about addressing the select-side issue with me. No, I would not be allowed in any way to participate in any USA Rugby, Midwest, or any other developmental or select-side rugby functions - nothing but EIU rugby. When considering EIU as on option, this was my number one concern, and I addressed this with the coach by reiterating it to him that my number one goal was to become an Eagle. He told me that this wouldn't have to be discussed with the other girls, but that certainly I could keep this as a personal goal (although I was told I might find it more rewarding to go into some other field after college working in NCAA athletics). I asked that if coming to EIU and effectively excluding myself from the USA Developmental Pool could have deterimental effects on my ever being selected at the higher levels. I was then told that, no, this would have no effect because for all intents and purposes there was no real player identification setup in place anyways and that "getting your name out there" in USA Rugby was not at all important. And the best part - I was also told that USA Rugby and in particular the U19's had "set me up for failure". Having given me that great opportunity, I was told that the club structure - including select-sides - had left me with no available avenues for improvement or advancement. He even suggested that the only way the situation could improve was if perhaps HE were in charge of the U19's so that he could give the girls on the team a better option (weird, considering that his players aren't even allowed to play on the U19's).

Though I can see through all of this now so clearly - having gone through the Midwest U23 program, played for Northern Iowa in two DI Sweet 16's, and having assembled with the USA U23's - at the time, I really did swallow a lot of this crap. All I wanted was to be a better player, and if this man (who seemed truly interested) was telling me that the only way I could really do that was to play for him, it wasn't such a stretch to believe it. But over the next few weeks, the more conversations we had the more questions I asked about select-sides, the less cordial the coversations became. I knew there was a possiblity of getting select to Midwest U23's that summer, and I really wasn't sure if I wanted to give that up. I kept asking questions and receiving very few answers. All that kept being emphasised was the money, that rugby was "no different from other sports," and that this was an opportunity to be a "Student-Athlete" - nothing else. Weird...because I had pretty much always thought of myself as a student-athlete.

Today, almost three years later, I am very grateful to have chosen the club path. No disrespect to any of the athletes who have chosen EIU as their home - I am very sure they work extremely hard and are very talented players. I do wish they had a chance to play select-sides and try out for developmental teams - but I suppose that is a sacrifice they made knowingly. When I finally turned down the offer to play for EIU, the response I got back was that "collegiate athletics is not for most". Really? Because I have participated in collegiate athletics for 4 years - it may not be "varsity," it may not have an NCAA logo - but I am in college, I play rugby, and for all intents and purposes that makes me a "collegiate athlete".

Now, EIU and lots of the "anonymous" bloggers out there would like to have everyone believe that because we are club and they are varsity there is some huge gap between us. Not so - I was explained in detail the training and conditioning that would be required of me at EIU, and I am certain that my personal training schedule is just as rigorous. In fact, many players across the country train 5 days a week just as they do, and some are even on mandatory National Team conditioning programs (which often require more than one training per day in addition to skills practice), and many also monitor their diets, physical health, and mental health very carefully to ensure they are training at the highest level. Lots of Olympic athletes, because they are technically amatures, also train in this same way - but no one would ever try to tell them they are participating in a "hobby" or a weekend recreation as those in the EIU camp keep referring to club rugby athletes. Also, there is no possible way to compare club rugby to the likes of club soccer or club hockey or whatever. That's because, as I've said in some of my comments, there IS NO OTHER OPTION for rugby. The best hockey players in this country are OF COURSE going to attend universities with Varsity hockey teams. However, the same cannot be said of the best rugby players in the country. The best rugby players in the country, or the best athletes seeking to play rugby were they to have a choice, might choose Penn State or Stanford or Army or New Mexico or Northern Iowa, or Ohio State, etc, etc, etc. Why? Because these are among the best teams in the country. Period. If I were a basketball player, and UK's club basketball team was the very best team in the country, that's who I'd want to play for. As it turns out, UK's Varsity basketball team is far better - so that's where I'd want to play. But not because they are Varsity, but because they are good!!!

And about this whole "rugby isn't different from other sports" stuff. Well, I guess on the surface it's not. You run, you score, there's contact, injuries, etc. But somewhere along the line something more was infused into rugby. Something that transcends state lines, country lines, gender lines, races, creeds, and cultures. You don't have to sing the songs and you don't have to drink the beer. You don't have to have to have outrageous parties or chug alcohol from a boot. All of that can come with rugby - but it certainly doesn't have to and the partying is not what I'm talking about. It's the community. There's something about the people who play and coach and support - those who work their tails off for no reason at all except for the love of the game. It's about those funny British terms like "scrum" and "knock on" and "hooker". It's about the fact that people of all shapes and sizes can play, beat the living hell out of their opponents on the field, and then be man or woman enough to shake hands and share a pint (or a pepsi) with their opposite after a game. Sure, there are those occassional enemies, but for the most part some of best friends I've ever had have been on the opposite side of the field....and the exciting part is that this trend goes all the way up to the highest level. It's encouraging to see that money has not corrupted the sport in places like New Zealand - they get more and more professional and earth-shatteringly good every year, but anyone can tell that they are still just regular ruggers at heart playing because they love it. Having read Justin Marshall's biography twice, I can attest that even in the All Blacks, songs, pints, pranks, and comraderie are still very much a part of the atmosphere - hell, Justin even claims to be very good "mates" with George Gregan! In a sport where two of the most competive scrumhalfs in the world can settle in before or after a match to have a barbeque, there must be something special going on....

So I guess the thing is, rugby doesn't have to be different than other sports. We can change it to make it more marketable and more "American"(see this Q&A). Change the numbers, change the refs, change the equipment. Hell, even change the meters to yards, call it a touchdown, change poaches to "steals" and start reporting on "runs over twenty yards"....stop the socials - even the non-alcoholic ones, and start talking about how much the same rugby is as every other sport. Maybe we'll eventually forget that we're any different - maybe girls would get scholarships and the NCAA would take over with it's big money and big rules and make things "safer" (especially when it would be women playing, because as we all know, some things just aren't safe for women)........But really - I'd rather not. I'd love to get more support from universities and possibly have Varsity women's rugby be a big thing - hell, I'd even like to coach a team one day and actually get paid - but not at this cost. Varsity rugby can happen without these changes. If the NCAA requires all this, then who needs them. The rugby community needs support and organization, and it looks to me as though USA Rugby is doing its best to provide those things. There is definite room for improvement, and I am no expert on what all is required - but I hope that someone out there can figure out a way to do it without stripping rugby of it's soul. All I know is that I love this sport. For me and so many others, there is something different, and it's added to my life in a way that no other sport - or community - ever could.

Varsity rugby or not, collegerugbyamerica and EIU are not advocating the sport I fell in love with, and they can keep it...

I've been gone for a while...

2007-05-13T20:50:00.000-04:00

...but it's just because I'm busy planning out my life. Rugby and otherwise. But the exciting news is that YAY!!!! It's summer rugby time!!! I can almost smell it in the air - the grass, the dirt, the sweaty scrumcaps....*ahhh*. Summer rugby means amping up the training and amping up the intensity. Games are few and far between, but when you play, you play big - and afterwards, because you've worked so hard, you party big. It's for seeing all those rugby friends spread out all over the country - former teammates, current teammates, coaches from u19 this and u23 that. Maybe you drive in a car singing Journey songs for hours on end or maybe you hop in a jet that drops you off God knows where and suddenly, you arrive in what I like to call, "Rugby Land". It's the greatest place on Earth - only, it isn't really a place. Or at least, it's never the same place. It doesn't matter whether it's Seattle or Austin or Rockford or Philly - because wherever it is, no matter what tournament it is, you're bound to see people you love from all over the place. My most favoritest tournament happens to be the U23 NASC or ITT's or whatever you wanna call it because it seems to be the center of everything. Now the senior women have been holding their tourney at the same time so there's even more people there than before. But most of all I love it because the stakes are high. First, I'll head off to Midwest tryouts and try to wipe the dust off of the connections between myself and the teammates I haven't played with for a while, as well as forge new connections with all the rookies. Weeks of 2 a day training come together for 2 days of a$$ busting hard work, trying to prove once again that I've got what it takes to wear the Green and Gold - there are fitness tests, speed tests, tons of hard hitting drills, and of course, scrimmaging - and after it's all over all I can hope for is to have done my very best and proven myself worthy to go on to the big dance.

Making it that far is already an accomplishment - I've played in the NASC three times now (once as a USA U19er, twice as a U23 Thunderbird), and it just never gets old. Last year, though it had a disappointing ending for us MW players, was especially exciting for me because I was a starter for the first time. I played my heart out but the team fell short, so you can bet we'll be back this summer with a vengence......seriously, I can't freaking wait.

Getting back to the high stakes - ah, yes, besides really, really, really wanting to take those gold medals home, there's an underlying "try out" aspect to the whole All-Star tournament thing. When explaining rugby life to anyone outside the sport I always like to tell them that rugby is kind of like one continuous tryout. Yes, it's fun as hell, but it seems we're always being watched or evaluated for something, and for this year's NASC that will be especially true. Last year at the tournament, I was playing my heart for my team, as well as for a chance to tryout for the U23 National Team. Well, this year the prize is much greater, as the USA U23 team which goes to New Zealand will supposedly be announced sometime following the NASC. Whoa - talk about pressure. But no worries - no amount of pressure can take away my love of select-side rugby and summer rugby in general. Maybe it's just me, but I just can't think of anything better than soaking up the sun and soaking up the rugby with some of the best young players in the country...

Rugby Land - here I come!!

Poetic interlude...

2007-04-30T01:40:00.000-04:00

This is the end part of a poem I wrote a year or two ago.....the beginning part is kind of shit, but the end part feels pretty relevant right now...

Thus Fear will not impede mine striving
So much I love the beauty, pace, and pain
For it is still “The game they play in heaven”
Become I Eagle –
Or wingless self, remain.

I'm a Big Kid Now!

2007-04-27T16:17:00.000-04:00

Now that the emotional drama of Nationals is over, and school is (nearly) over, I've decided it's time to sort out where I'm going from here.

Well, let's make it official - I will be moving to Philadelphia after the U23 National All-Star Tournament and playing for the Philly Women!!! That's right, after some long hard decision making and much persuasion in many different directions from interested parties, I have decided to drag my redneck butt across the country once again, and replant myself in the city of brotherly love. This is all very exciting and extrordinarily terrifying at the same time. Let's list the positives and negatives...

Positives and Negatives of Moving to Philly:

+ I have a rugby team waiting for me
- I don't have a job waiting for me

+ I'll get lots of competition
- I might lose

+ I'll meet new people!
- New people are scary...

+ I get to live in a big city!
- Umm...hello!?! I'm a hillbilly...I might die.

+ Closer to friends and family from home
- Farther from friends from Iowa and the west

+ New challenge of playing for MARFU
- I really love playing for Midwest =(

...but in the end....

+ I'll become a better rugby player

...And that's the bottom line - Like I said, moving is scary and fun at the same time, but this is the best time for me to do it. I have no job, no prior committments, no romantic attachments - basically I'm free to restart life as I choose, and for now, I'm choosing Philly. Two years ago I made this same decision and moved to the middle of nowhere in Iowa. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made, and from that I've learned that you have to take risks to do anything in life. Anytime you get too comfortable, you're probably getting too lazy, and that is certainly not what I want - in rugby OR life.

So here I go - two more months of life in the Midwest before I take a big jump into the real world - *Deep Breath*

Here I go....

Some pictures and stuffs

2007-04-24T09:19:00.000-04:00

So as you probably know, my team traveled to DI Nationals in Florida last weekend and made it to the elite 8. We fell in the second round to a determined UC Davis side, and despite the disappointment of losing, it was an overall great weekend. I am officially done with college rugby now, and will be looking forward to my move to the world of "big girl" in the fall.....more details to come on that, but in the meantime, here are some pictures from Florida, and also from Midwest LAU's.....

This one is from LAU's vs. Wisconsin......I'm loving the cool angle on the photo, not sure how I never saw the photographer out on the field, though.

Pre-game huddle in Gainesville.

Ummm...I look pissed off and tired.

Here I am enjoying my favorite hobby - scrumhalf hunting =)

Photo after UNI's first win at DI Nationals over Appalachian State. I'm in front doing a totally awesome cheerleader pose with Mulf.

Stuff

2007-04-15T22:53:00.000-04:00

I had a couple of good games this weekend. Nothing spectacular, except that I felt like my conditioning has vastly improved. I was able to talk and direct the whole time without getting winded, as well as making it to the rucks, make my passes, tackle, and have a few runs. It felt good to be out there in some dry weather and really see what I could do - but I know I have a ton of work left...so no celebration here.

Nationals is up next. I have just 3 workouts (2 if I don't make it to the gym wednesday morning) and a practice to fine-tune myself before leaving for the big dance.....so, I guess you could say I have my work cut-out for me. I'm planning a strength workout for tomorrow, with some crossfit "metcon" workouts on tuesday and wednesday morning. I also want to get some passing sessions in everyday - a little work with the weighted ball might be good too.

This is kind of a short, straight to the facts sort of post, but there are a lot of things on my mind right now and I'm feeling a bit subdued. There is just so much work to be done it's all a bit overwelming. I'm trying to set some goals and see where I can go from there, only time can tell I suppose.

And...a little rugby poetry...

2007-04-10T11:12:00.000-04:00

Love Song

My boots play a symphony of clicks,
Singing
An insatiable thirst
For freshly painted Earth.

As they reach the threshold,
They drink the sky first;
Snagging pieces of the blue on their way down,
Till their teeth
Slice against green blades
And chew the face of springtime
Into a mess of sweaty bliss.

The aroma of battle glistens on their fervent faces –
Waiting, waiting, waiting…

Till the whistle blows,
The ball flies,
And those boots of mine give chase to tell me:

We are in love.

Nationals Update!

2007-04-10T10:38:00.001-04:00

So we finally know all the teams in our pool!!!

Saturday, April 21st, Gainesville, FL:

Univ. of Northern Iowa vs. Appalachian State

and

Virginia vs. UC Davis

I've never played against any of these teams, so I really don't know what to expect, except hard fought rugby. It's certainly a decent pool, now we just have to see what we can do with it...

We have Midwest U23 LAU's this weekend in the COOOOLD. Not the best thing to prepare for 85 degree heat, but that's life I suppose. I'm excited to see some of my friends from Kentucky and Ohio as they travel up to Iowa Falls this weekend for the U23 event...and then excited to see even more friends down in Florida next weekend!

As for my whole crossfit/nutrition approach, I'm feeling great right now! More details on my workouts and progress to come........

As we say in Kentucky, "Son, I'm gonna light a fire under yer a**!!!"

2007-04-08T09:32:00.000-04:00

That was pretty random, I know. But I have had a very inspiring past few days, and I would like to share my inspiration with the masses.

First of all, to report on my condition after having completed crossfit workouts on Thursday and Friday, I would like to say that I am still slightly sore, but feeling as strong and healthy as ever. Tonight, I am going to do a workout of theirs styled slightly different than the others -

Crossfit warmup:
3 rounds of 10-15 reps of
Samson Stretch (do the Samson Stretch once each round for 15-30 seconds)
Overhead Squat with broomstick
Sit-up
Back-extension
Pull-up
Dip

Then, the workout:

15, 12, 9 rep rounds of
backsquat
handstand pushups (I can't do these the right way, so I will prop my feet up against the wall)

In order to keep up with my speed training, I will do the agility, speed portion of my footworkcamp workout before the crossfit thing.

I've also decided I'm going to do at least the crossfit warmup on Tuesday mornings before I do my shuttle training, and then on Wednesday I will do a more traditionally styled workout involving olympic lifts, front squats, bench press, etc. As well as some of the "ass-fire"moves I learned at footworkcamp.

Then Thursday I will only do short sprint training in order to not remain sore by Saturday.

The key to all of this, of course, is not to overtrain - a chronic problem of mine. However, upon being completely honest with myself, I've realized this:

I have never trained too much, I've only rested too little. And that's my fault. Wasting time on things like television, internet, going out when I shouldn't, etc - just generally drain my day of productive time. What I SHOULD be doing is getting the real life stuff out of the way so that I can have a real estimate of how much time remains for things like training, resting, spending time with friends and recreation. Easier said than done, but I am going to really work at it over these next few weeks and see if it can help me get through Nationals without completely draining myself.

Hence my motto of late,

"Less obsession, more focus"

I obsess A LOT. About a lot of things. Which is fine, sometimes - it can be a catalyst for working harder and concentrating on my goals. But overdone, it prevents me from stepping a way and giving my brain a rest in order that I get the other things done in life that allow for me to attain my goals. When I suddenly hit a brick wall that forces me to confront real-life obstacles, I stress, forget about nutrition, rest, and training, and just generally self-destruct. On average, it takes about 1-2 weeks to recover from such disaster. This type of cycling just CAN'T happen.

I've also realized something else about myself. I love training. I would love to help other people train. So, why then, am I looking for jobs behind a desk that would entail me doing more of the things I hate on a daily basis, wearing clothes I'm uncomfortable in, and talking to people I'm uncomfortable around??? WHY? Well, because I have a degree that says "English" on it. But so what, I'm educated - great. I will always love to write and I hope that I can eventually find a way to make at least a supplementary income off of it. But I've decided I'm going to take seriously the possibility of working as a trainer as a source of income. If you're good enough, you'll get paid enough. So I guess my goal is to get certified, and get my own personal fitness at a place where others will BELIEVE I'm good enough.

This is all a lot of ranting and raving - and I'm sure a lot of the spunk I've got in my step will subside with Monday morning blues. But as my graduation date creeps closer, I've realized I don't want to be stuck in any kind of rut for the rest of my life. I'm sick of doing what mommy and daddy and friends expect me to do. I don't want to "follow the path of least resistance". I want to make enough money to support myself and my rugby "habit", and I want to be happy. If that requires working behind a desk at times, then so be it. But I want to be writing things that I believe in, and I want to help other people improve their lives through athletic pursuits.

Following along those lines, I recommend everyone check out the site, http://www.gymjones.com/ . Particularly, the "Knowledge" section. I discovered through a search as to how the actors of the movie "300" acquired their level of fitness, and my search led me to Gym Jones. Don't get too excited, however. This gym is apparently not open to the public, and only trains people by invitation only. They use the same techniques found at Crossfit, but apply their own self-proclaimed "fight club" philosophy to it. The founders are mostly mountain climbers, and they know what it means for your life to depend upon fitness. I find their dedication inspiring, and their refusal to conform, refreshing.

Check it out and let me know what you think.

Till then, Rugby Love

-KY

almost forgot...

2007-04-05T22:33:00.000-04:00

Oh, this is a video off the crossfit website....and it is maybe the most hardcore thing I have ever seen. Seriously, I want to be this girl - check it out HERE

If that link doesn't work, then copy and paste this address in your address bar:

http://media.crossfit.com/
cf-video/fran-greg_annie.w
mv

FEEL THE BURRRRN!!!

2007-04-05T22:05:00.000-04:00

First of all, my apologies for locking the blog. I was undergoing some decision time as to whether or not I was going to continue recording my day to day rugbyness. See, I kind of tend to be an up and down sort of person - really big ups, really big downs, and constantly striving to be somewhere in the middle. Sometimes I have a hard time censoring what should go out for all the world to see, and what I should keep in my head. But, since I don't think I've written anything too regretable thus far, since writing might help keep me a little honest, and since some people were up in arms that this thing was blocked (steve), I suppose I'll keep at it and see how things go...

In other news, life has gone back to its regular hectic but liveable place. I've caught up on my schoolwork, spent some time with Brutus, and...YESSSS gotten back to my regular workouts.

Let's see, tuesday I ran stairs with the team (on like one hour of sleep - I had to keep thinking about Navy Seals training just to get through it), on Wednesday I did footworkcamp.com agility/lifting workout, and TODAY I did this way awesome thing called crossfit !

Let me just tell you, I am WAY excited about this crossfit thing - it's from a site I came across a few months ago - I think I actually heard about it first on some rugby players Rugby Magazine interview, so I checked it out. It's basically a varying high intensity program that has a lot of bodyweight involvement. For example, the prescribed workout I did tonight was:

3 rounds for time of:

12 muscle ups (basically doing a pull up and then pulling yourself over the bar to do a dip at the top)
30 back extensions
400 meter run

Since I cannot do a muscle up, and since I want to be able to move my arms tomorrow, this being the first time I've ever done this, I scaled it down a bit:

3 rounds of:

12 assisted pull-ups
12 dips
30 inverted sit-ups (i didn't have a place to do back ext)
400 meter run

Let me tell you, these arms are FRIED!!! And running 400 meters after doing all that stuff was brutal - I was definitely on the verge of puking on my last trip around. I wish I would have had a watch to time myself, but I couldn't find it. It would be nice to know though, so as to keep track of progress. At any rate, I'm definitely going to try to put this in my program for a while and see how it goes - I would love to work my way up to doing all of this without using any assistance on the pull-ups, and eventually doing the whole muscle-up thing...but I'm gonna take it one step at a time.....here is my weekly plan for inseason training:

Monday: crossfit metcon workout
Tuesday: shuttles, scrumhalf passing, and practice
Wednesday: Agility/Olympic lifting/free weight workout (what I've been doing already)
Thursday: sprints/agility and practice
Friday: rest
Saturday: is a rugby day
Sunday: rest

Of course, things will change a bit if there is a sunday game as well, but I will work with that as it comes, and depending on how I'm feeling...

I'll also try to report on whether or not I am walking around like an elephant ran over me tomorrow...because there is a pretty damn good chance I'm going to be hella sore. At any rate, if you decide to check out the crossfit thing but get confused at the huge overload of information, just check out some of the FAQ sections on the side, or give me a shout, as I've looked through it so much I think I pretty much have everything down by now. Also, I'd like to mention that there seem to be a ton of rugby players (lots of boys from california) in the crossfit community who have given rave reviews...hopefully they are right!

Since I'm trying to be very committed to my reading for this last bit of school in order to avoid undue stress, I'm going to have to say farewell for the evening. It's off to read the ever-so-interesting 19th century courtship novel, "The Story of an African Farm"....woo-wee what a thursday evening!

Rugby Love,

Kentucky

Fall down seven times...stand up eight

2007-04-04T10:41:00.000-04:00

Fine, I'll admit it. I've been avoiding the blog. Avoiding it at all costs, in fact. I wouldn't even visit other people's blogs because I thought it would remind me of this one...

What would I write? What could I write??? I mean, in a training sense, I didn't just fall off the horse, I killed the horse. After Memphis, I decided I needed a little breather. I was tired in training, so I took the advice of a friend, set my boots aside for a few days, and caught a jet to England. That was, well...that just was. I managed to find a few mornings to run around on a football pitch while I was there, but mostly I was hanging out with a close high school friend and checking out the countryside (FYI, Dover is way super cool). At any rate, that was that, it was probably a healthy rest, and I was hoping to come back ready to hit the gym and pitch.

School had other ideas...

Basically, school has been kicking my ass. My week would go something like this (starting with saturday because, well, i like it best)

Saturday - rugby game
Sunday - rugby game, drive home, sleep
Monday - go to class, stay up all night writing a paper
Tuesday - go to class, practice, read
Wednesday - FINALLY get to lift, class, stay up all night writing a paper
Thursday - class, practice, study for a test
Friday - class, sleep, prepare for rugby
Saturday - Rugby game
Sunday - two papers to write....etc

Anyways, I could repeat that for 3 weeks, but I think you get the picture. In fact, at this very moment, I should be in class, but the night before last I had two papers to write and didn't sleep at all, then went to class, and then went straight to practice where we ran stairs. I was able to get up this morning to lift, but it was pitiful. My numbers have gone down in everything, I haven't been eating right, and I'm SOOO tired.

However, the worst of it is over (for the moment) and I'm gonna have a bit of breathing room to try to get myself together. There has to be some way to make school and rugby work together, I just have to be very careful about how I use my time. I am a procrastinator through and through, so it's hard for me to start on a paper or any assignment until the night before it is due - in fact, I don't think I've ever written a paper ahead of time - but this time, I'm making a committment to try. I'm staying in from class today so that I can catch up on all my reading assignments, catch up on sleep, and be ready to come into the world a little refreshed tomorrow.

I have to admit, this has all been very frustrating. It's really painful to be able to literally see yourself growning weaker (I write down all my lifting stats every session). I had done so well, earlier this year - improving my 40, getting a lot stronger, improving my passing.......it was soooo much FUN! And now, well, though my conditioning is decent, everything else has just fallen off the track. But I suppose I can't give up that easily - Nationals is just a few weeks away, and I really need to commit to taking life seriously for a bit - I can manage rugby and school, I just have to get my act together and get things done ahead of time.

So this is me committing to be, well....just not to give up. There are times for committing to save the world, and there are times to commit to just staying afloat - this is one of those stay afloat moments. Once I'm there, then I'm gonna doggie paddle like hell to get back to shore and back in my old (and very sorely missed) routine.

wish me luck...

YAY!!!!!

2007-03-28T20:32:00.000-04:00

Okay, so God may have been spiting me (because he does that) for not keeping my lenten promise of no television watching...I know, I know, I said I could do it but I just, well....I'm human, okay!!?! And I really like tv.

Anyways, I think the result of this breakage of promises resulted in a mandatory loss of my laptop for freaking ever. AND THEN, when I finally did get my laptop back, it still didn't f-ing work. So then they told me the charger was broken, so then I sent away for a new charger tip to work with my old laptop's universal charger...but then that was taking too long, so then I decided to get the viruses off of my old laptop so I could use it in the meantime - they told me it would take three days - but it really took a week, and in a bitter twist of fate, the new tip that goes to my new laptop, but which has to be used with my old laptop's charger, came in the mail.....only the charger it worked with was with my old laptop at Best Buy.......damn. So basically I was without a home computing aparatus for like, a month..and it was making me hella crazy. Rest easy though, because now I'm back for good =)

On to the rugby -

Okay, so the Memphis games I played in for Midwest U23's were like a million years ago, but here's the gist of it.......the games were definitely a mismatch and we won by way too much, but the good news is we had an AMAZING group of athletes that I can't wait to play with again, and against much tougher competition. If everyone comes back in shape and ready to go for Blaine this summer, the midwest just might be back in business for another championship =)

Aside from Memphis, my UNI team just had its first rugby weekend of the season!!! We traveled to St. Paul, MN on Saturday morning where we enjoyed a clinic with the Twin City Amazons. Though our UNI squad had never really done anything like that with a women's club team, I would have to say that the experience was a success - especially for our pack. There are a lot of technical components to scrumming, lineouts, etc that our forwards just don't get enough exposure to at a normal practice, and it was great for them (and for me, since the success of a pack directly influences the success of a scrumhalf) to get a chance to learn from a few old pros...

That night was also pretty nice, as we were treated to free food and lodging by the 'Zons. Ten of us stayed in the same place as myself that night, where we were treated to nice rooms with beds, blankets, tv's, and even a breakfast casserole in the morning! I also had a chance to spread love for the ever popular party trick - the inside out roll (aka sushi roll). Basically, it involves sitting with your bottoms of your feet together while holding your feet in your hands, rocking backwards while manuvering until your arms are now outside of your knees and you are rolled out on your stomach - all while never letting go of your feet: Those of you who've never seen this performed - you're missing out, because it is definitely a good time.

However, all fun rugby nights must come to an end, and with the festivities over, Sunday morning was when the "business" of our trip began. We traveled up to St. Cloud to play the Minnesota Under-23 All-Stars, and it turned out to be a hell of a match. Several familiar faces were on the opposing side of the pitch - and all of them were very good players. So much so that I think it caught the team a little off-guard and left us down by 2 trys at the end of the first half. It took a lot of digging, but somehow we managed to come back pull off the win...but it definitely wasn't the most flawless of performances...

Although, I suppose that's the way things go for the first match of the season, and we'll have time to patch up any holes before we have to take off for Nationals. As for myself, I notice that when I get in games, my pass gets significantly weaker than when I'm practicing on my own...I'm not sure what exactly I'm doing differently, and it's pretty frustrating, but I guess all that I can do is to keep at it at practice and hope that eventually my repetitions translate into a better performance on the pitch. Other than that, I felt pretty confident about my play - trying a few kicks that weren't complete disasters, and taking one or two runs when I got the chance. Our pack was definitely a bit on their heels, though, and when that happens I'm always curious as to what that's supposed to mean for me - does that mean I'm less responsible for the mistakes I make when it's because I'm not protected??? Does it mean I'm being a bad leader??? I would like to think that as a scrumhalf there are some things that I could do when things are getting disheveled in my forwards, and I think that's a part of my game I'd really like to improve upon...

Hmmm...I suppose that's something to think on. At any rate, that's my update of rugby life since I've been blog-absent, and the bed is calling my name. I promise more coherent and less pointless topics of conversation in the future =)

Don't leave!!!

2007-03-21T18:40:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I know I've been a TERRIBLE blogger, but my laptop still isn't fixed - hopefully by the end of this week, and then I will be back on all the f'n time!!!

In the meantime, all kinds of exciting rugby things are on the horizon. I had a great time in England, and I have come back refreshed and ready to dive into the season. We had our first outdoor practice yesterday, and seriously, I think there' s just something amazing about going out there and getting dirty after a LOOOOONG winter! And you know what, I think tackling seriously wards off depression. I mean, really...I think EVERYONE should at some point in their life experience tackling someone, even if it's just some random drunken antic - it's just so empowering and, well, FUN! So yeah, I went to practice yesterday really stressed out and not feeling so hot, but after getting out there in the fresh air and putting my shoulder into somebody and feeling what it's like to be out there on the grass again, I felt amazing!!!

This weekend we have our first UNI game of the season, against the Minnesota U23's. On Saturday the Amazons are being kind enough to put us up and also to host a little clinic for us, that should be especially beneficial for our forwards, who haven't been able to do much scrum work considering the indoor practices we've been holding.

Also, I'm in the process of making a lot of big girl decisions about my whereabouts after college. It's really tough to sink your teeth into the real world for the first time, but I think I'll be able to make the right decision because the rugby people of the world have been so helpful.

I have to be getting back to my apartment now because I'm pretty much starving to death (that's what sucks about not having a computer next to my couch anymore - I can't EAT and type at the same time). Like I said, I hope to have my laptop up and running VERY soon, and to reinstate myself as an active blogger!

Rugby Love,

Kentucky

International Excuses

2007-03-11T09:57:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I know I haven't been writing. And I suck. But really, I have good reasons!!!

Numero Uno -

My laptop is still broken. Or, more correctly, my laptop has returned, completely fixed.....but now the charger is broken and because I was way stupid and got an off-brand laptop, I now have to wait another week for a friggin charger. Great.

Numero Dos -

It's been a busy week - trip to memphis (I still need to write about it), midterms, papers....and arggg...not much time for trips to the computer lab in order to feed my blogging habit.

Numero Tres -

I'M GOING TO ENGLAND!!!! Yeah, I know! Crazy! I just booked my ticket on friday, which was made available to me by a very kind set of parents who have an ungodly amount of dividend skymiles just waiting to be used for random transatlantic flights. Sooo...yeah, I had no plans for Spring Break as of Thursday morning...and as of Friday morning I had a ticket to London - SWEEEEET!!!

This will be my fourth trip (once for highschool, once with parents, once with U19's) and now I will be going to visit one of my best friends who now lives there with her husband and attends art school. Unfortunately it will be a fairly short trip - just four full days of Englishness...but very fun nonetheless. I am starting to feel like a regular world traveler these days, and I am very excited to be able to do my regular running drills out on the grassy countryside near my friend's cottage, and to explore the towns of Canterbury and Rochester. Yay!

Anyways, I have to go to catch my flight!!!

Cheers!

I'm busy, so I'm stalling....

2007-03-06T19:22:00.000-05:00

Okay...so I will get to the details of my Memphis trip very soon (way fun), but for now I'm busy and have mucho homework to do before practice tonight. In the meantime, I thought I'd throw some more poetry out into the world. My assignment was to write a poem about a piece of art on campus - there was one called "Breaking Front" in the English building, which featured an Iowa landscape - basically sky, corn, and some clouds - very "Iowan", probably a comfortable view of home for most of the students here...this sort of inspired me to write about my home - so here it is...

I promise to write about rugby and Memphis soon!!! Stay tuned..

Painting Home

It's a picture seen a thousand times,
Corn and sky
Corn and sky
Illuminating with each stoke
Not the colors that soak the canvas
But the missing hues of home.

How far before golden fields give way
To the dark and dusty hills of home?
How far before hollows
Become hollers
And creeks become cricks?
Before horses stand in place of cornstalks
And tobacco leaves
Sit, toxic in the sun
To be enjoyed later as a
Buzz
In the cheek or a burn in the lungs -
Where bourbon flows like water
Through veins which
Bleed as blue as the grass
Where Rupp's cathedral
Holds it's Mass

These are the colors of my life:
Greens and browns and
Wildcat Blues

Let those greens be painted over gold
And earthy browns rise up to
Shrink the vast expanding sky

Let Breaking Front frame
The lives of Others -

And I will paint my own way home.

I'm not dead, but my laptop is

2007-02-27T20:11:00.000-05:00

So what do you get for buying a "military grade" drop-resistant, spill-resistant, built-like-a-mother-fing-tank of a laptop???

Well...one that breaks, of course. To be fair, the actual laptop didn't break. In fact, since I've probably knocked it off of my coffee table a billion times and spilled more than one giant glass of water all over the keys, I can attest that it is, indeed, a sturdy piece of hardware. However, one little glitch in the design: On one of those drops, my tank of a laptop must have landed squarly on the little charger plug that plugs into the side, which in turn must have broken the little connector thing inside of the plug-in hole that allows my laptop to be charged. For a while, I've simply managed to jiggle the cord until it was charging, and then would try my best not to move it so that the battery would stay full. Unfortunately, the jiggle method refused to hold out any longer. Yesterday, I watched in helpless horror as my little electronic friend counted down its last bits of battery power, unable to be recharged....*sigh*

I took it to Best Buy today and spent a hefty sum for it to be sent off to service land, not to return for many weeks....at least three - maybe five, said the man. Ughh. Right now I'm using the "office center" of my apartment complex, but to get here I have to either get in my car and drive an annoying block and a half, or risk my ass walking across the three inches of ice that cover every surface in Cedar Falls, Iowa. I am SO ready for spring. SO READY.

Luckily, I have one bright spot left in my world for the week - I'M GOING TO MEMPHIS THIS WEEKEND!!!! This kid = waaay excited.

Not only am I making a brief return to my beloved South, but I'll be playing rugby. And not only will I be playing rugby, but it will be WARM there!!!! YESSSSSS.... South, Sun, and Scrums - definitely a great way to spend a weekend. I'll have to dust off my cowboy hats and rebel flag belt buckle, and ripped up jeans. And I'll have to make a point to listen to some Elvis music and talk to my Kentucky buddies and my grandma to prepare my voice for the accent shift - although, I'm fairly certain I'll need no prep time..

Anyhow, on the rugby side of things I can't wait to get out there and see how the changes in my training will translate to the field - I guess you could say I'm expecting big things from myself. I can be my own worst enemy sometimes, so I'll to remember to take it each play at a time, and not to get discouraged if I feel a little rusty at first. However, I'll have my fave flyhalf for the weekend, so if that doesn't get me excited, nothing will. A great flyhalf can turn an errant pass into a spectacular play, and what #9 couldn't use that kind of help from time to time??

Well, I had better get off of here and trudge back over the frozen tundra to my apartment. I may not get to write again before I leave due to the inconvenience of no longer having the internet constantly at my fingertips. Hopefully I'll be able to figure out some laptop solution soon. At any rate, I'll be sure to give a full report some Tennessee rugby upon my return.

Cheers!

Tis' the season...to sacrifice???

2007-02-22T08:52:00.000-05:00

Here's the deal - I'm Catholic. And apparently, Catholics do this thing called lent. You know, that thing where on one random tuesday girls in Louisiana show their boobs for beads, followed the next day by some weird ritual where ppl run around with black stuff on their foreheads and propose to "give up" something until Easter. Well, call me a bad Catholic, but I've never given up anything. My parents seem to always give up a food - one year it was ice cream, one year popcorn...stuff like that. My friends - even my non-Catholic friends - always seemed to find something to give up as well.

Normally, I balked at the idea because I thought the whole concept of their "sacrifice" was kind of cheesy. I mean, c'mon - popcorn? And the whole idea that you can't eat meat on fridays, but then churches filled with fatties chow down on delicious fried fish instead...is that REALLY a sacrifice? And I bet all the fish are swimming around wondering..."okay, so I'm not a plant. But apparently I'm not an animal either!?!". Catholics of the world, I have an announcement to make: FISH IS MEAT!!! They are swimming, breathing, little creatures. They look like animals, they act like animals, and when you kill them, cook them, and eat them, they TASTE like animals. Fish is meat, so you can't give up "meat" and eat fish instead. Have a get-together with macaroni salad and PB&J sandwiches if you want - but don't have fish and say you are giving up "meat". Maybe say you're giving up "land animals" if that makes you feel better...but seriously - Fish is meat. Amen.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I would like to get to my real point. Having finally gotten over my bitterness of the fish issue, I decided that this year I would actually attempt to give up something. But what? I haven't been drinking at all, and if I do, it would be after our alumni game which is pretty much the funnest thing in the world...so that's a no go. I already don't drink pop, the only sweets I have serve as my once a week treat.............okay - foods and beverages seem to be off the table. Someone last night suggested that instead of giving something up perhaps I should "add" something - like volunteer time...but I really don't have much time as it is...

So then I got to thinking - what is it that takes up my time that I don't ABSOLUTELY need. The dreaded answer - Television. Especially on the weekends, that sucker draws me in and suctions my ass to the couch for hours on end. It's also the main reason that I don't get my reading done for classes, and a contributer to staying up too late at night.......but I LOVE tv. I mean, Real World, ESPN, Fox News, Late Shows, Dr. Phil, Man vs. Wild, the History Channel....it's just all so amazing. And sometimes, you just need some background noise, you know? Yet, mi amor for television proves that it is the perfect sacricial lamb for this lenten season, and I'm betting giving it up will free up a lot of extra time for things like reading, cleaning, writing, and spending time with Brutus. Yes. It is decided - tv (or at least most of it) must go.

Here is my official proposal which has gone into effect as of this morning: I am allowed one show per week - Grey's Anatomy. To prevent myself from being tempted to watch other things, I am actually returning my digital cable box today (subscription $50 a month) and downgrading to the $12 per month basic cable (22 crappy channels). HOWEVER - I just ordered Setanta Sports on the ITVN internet-based channel subscription thing which should arrive in a couple of days. I will allow myself to watch as much rugby as desired, because hey, that's educational!!!

So basically, I'm not giving up tv, I'm giving up cable. If I succeed in only watching that one show per week - so 1 hour of cable television - that's probably down from about 45+ hours per week. Add in a few hours per week of rugby games, and I'll still have about 40 hours of time that will now be entirely free of the boob tube. What will I do with that time?? Hmmm.....blog maybe?? haha...hopefully I'll read and spend more time with my puppy. Time will tell....

At any rate - good luck with all your lenten sacrifices and whatnot. I'll let you know how the new anti-cable Kentucky is doing in a few days...

And P.S......Fish Is Meat - spread the word.

Happy Birthday George!!!

2007-02-19T10:19:00.000-05:00

Our first Prez turns 275 today, so I just thought I'd give him a shout-out. George Washington was a pretty cool guy, helping us win the Revolutionary War and all...we owe a lot to all those who have risked their lives so that we can live ours so comfortably. And mad props to a guy who rejected the idea of being a king of America so that he could be the first President of the United States.

Way to go, GW - and Happy Birthday!!

Some days, I just feel like kicking a puppy..

2007-02-18T18:09:00.000-05:00

Alright...so not really. But today was pretty shatty. Let me rant...

Since we're speaking of puppies, let me just say that the fact that I have one is causing real problems in my rental life. Actually, the puppy isn't a problem, but my stupidity is. I was convinced by some friends that I could keep my dog in this house she wanted us to live in. She told me the landlord was really old and wouldn't notice, and for whatever reason, I believed her. Then when we went to sign the lease, he very clearly told us no pets, but I was told to keep my mouth shut and for some God-awful reason I succumbed to peer pressure and signed the stupid paper anyways.

WELL...I then proceeded to freak out, and told her there was no way we could keep a "secret dog" for however many months. Plus, now i'm not even sure how long I'm going to be living here. After three days of stress, I called the old man and tell him this story about how my parents want me to move home and I cannot live there anymore - is there anyway to get out of the lease. To which he replies "Oh no, sweetie...You'll just have to pay the money anyways, sorry." GREAT...great. F#!*ing great.

He then tells me that IF I can find someone else he will switch over the lease agreement. Better...but this means that until I find someone, I cannot plan a life, so everything is in a state of seriously painful limbo. I think my heart rate has sped up by about 50 extra beats per minute, I can't eat, and I've barely been able to sleep. If I can't find someone, then I'll have to find a job JUST for the rent, because I cannot -CANNOT- tell my parents about my stupidity, or they would take my dog away and make me live there anyways.

Me = Unhappy.

Me = Nauseous.

Me = One Giant Migraine.

Me = Stupidest Girl EVER.

I think I'll go run with some scissors now...

40-TIME UPDATE!

2007-02-16T09:23:00.000-05:00

Okay, so the 5.4 could have been a messed up time, but the good news is - I'm still the 5.5-5.6 range!!!!

Last night at practice, AFTER we had done a bunch of drills and I was pretty much drained, I still managed to pull off a 5.63!!! My legs were also pretty sore from front squats the day before, so I KNOW I can do better. Best of all, this confirms that there has truly been an improvement in my 40 times....My time at the beginning of last summer was a 6.13, SOOO slow! Since then, it seems I have improved by about a half-second or more!!!

I am so thankful that I have found the programs and the people who have helped me do this...and I'm glad I put in the time and effort to make it happen. Basically, if you are having trouble with your speed (or even if you aren't and just want to improve!), then I HIGHLY recommend Julie McCoy's footwork camp. I truly believe that it has been her program that has added the final element to the speed work I had already been doing, and allowed me to break through whatever barriers I was experiencing with form and explosiveness...

I'm going to continue to try to widdle precious increments off of those times. It's a good feeling not to be the slow kid anymore =)

The Best (Worst) Coach I Ever Had

2007-02-14T21:04:00.000-05:00

I can't really tell you why I'm writing about this right now. It's a story I've been thinking about blogging for a while but just hadn't gotten around to it, and well, since I'm finally feeling semi-rested and have no pressing deadlines for the evening, I thought I might as well get it off my chest. So hear goes.

Once upon a time I lived in a little town called Pikeville, KY. There are about 6,500 people that live there, and at the heart of that little town is a little school. It's an "independent" school system - which basically means it's not private but people outside the city limits can go there if they pay a hefty tuition, and there is a completely separate school board than that of the county schools. For whatever reason, this makes us better than everyone else. "We Are - Pikeville!" - I can still hear our 3-time National Champion cheerleaders say as they lead us in our most arrogant cheer - one that we'd usually wait to use until we had thoroughly humiliated an opponent. It seems pretty innocent but,"We Are - Pikeville (and you sure as hell aren't)" is a more accurate depiction of its meaning.

So, this arrogance I'm describing - the priviledge of being a Pikevillian - a Panther - it didn't come out of thin air. Sure, some of it comes from the money: back in the 70's a lot of coal miners struck it rich and moved out to the "big town" of pikeville, buying up land and property and businesses. The people who owned the land and the people who sold the mines became sort of old money figures, and their children became mostly doctors and lawyers. Most stayed here and circulated the money around even more, meaning that by the time I came around the school parking lot was populated by quite a rich array of new mustangs, big chevy trucks, expensive suv's, and even a few bmw's. As for myself, I drove a Jeep Wrangler - sort of middle of the road. But not all of the Pikeville aura came from being the rich kids living in the middle of one of the poorest counties in America (mother Theresa has actually visited the area) - the other story is sports...

The focus of Pikeville existance is, was and ever shall be the three time State Champion Panther Football Team - 1987, 1988, and 1989. Sure, I didn't start kindegarten until 1990, but no matter. By the time I made it to junior high/high school the tradition was still alive and well. Some of the old players from those years were now the coaches, and so it goes that the boys of autumn were constantly working their buts off to begin another dynasty. With all this blood, sweat, and pride swirling around, there was more than enough Panther Pride left to go around to the other sports. Grow up in an environment where the athletes are heroes (think Varsity Blues, Remeber the Titans), and you're gonna want to be one of them.

Since I'm well, a girl, and my mom had forbidden me from ever entertaining the idea of playing football (she now loves to tell how I am secretly exacting revenge for this by playing rugby), my hopes and dreams rested on a different, but equally worshiped sport - basketball. Now maybe Pikeville isn't the basketball capital of the world - but Kentucky IS. Ever hang around Lexington during march? Ever drive through the bluegrass on I-75 and notice an overwelming number of blue Wildcat license plates?? Ever seen footage of Rupp Arena during a home game??? I have to tell you, the feeling - no, the religion - that is University of Kentucky basketball is something that is indescribable to an outsider. If you just pass by and look in, you'll think you're seeing insanity. But if you are one of the crazies, then you know it's pure love. And that was me growning up. I loved basketball, and I loved being a Pikeville Panther. We are Pikeville. I Bleed Blue.

Basically this meant one thing for me: I was going to be a basketball player. I was going to be one of the "heroes" on the local Friday Night Highlights and my picture was going to be plastered all over the sports page of the local newspaper. I was going to lead my team to a 15th region championship, and when I was done I was going to head west toward "Lex-Vegas" and make my name as a Wildcat. I made this promise to myself every day. I still remember those promises. And I especially remember the day they were finally broken.

Okay, so let's just say that things didn't go exactly as planned. Even starting out as young as 5th grade I started to notice that some things surrounding basketball didn't seem quite right. The best players didn't always play, and parents seemed to be insanely over-involved. Quarrels often broke out between parents and coaches when bobbie sue or susie jane didn't get the playing time she "deserved", and under the table "booster" club deals were rampant. Basically, playing time depended on who your mommy and daddy were, how much money they made, how much of it they gave to the boosters, and whose parties they attended on Saturday night. Pretty much a raw deal for little kids. And Junior high didn't go much better. It was a husband and wife team, and, as usually goes for me, the husband loved me but the wife - not so much. My parents had stayed out of the political mumbo-jumbo (as they should) and so my case was rarely fought for. There was no pressure to play me, and so I only played what was necessary. One particular night of bureaucratic bullshit occurred in my Eighth grade year. I had become a starter, and one night before a game, a 6th grade teammate of mine has asked to start because we were playing her former school. Naturally, I was the one who was asked by the coaches to sit out as a "generosity". Much later, my senior year, the husband of this coaching duo offered me endless apologies for the way I was treated and begged my forgiveness. I wish I could say the same for others...

When I finally made it to the high school team - JV and Varsity - it seemed like a whole new world. My coach was a former UK player and though she intimidated the hell out of me, I respected her more than any woman alive. She had pretty good ideas on the game of basketball, and clearly loved the game. Slowly, though, I began to realize she didn't care for me so much. I never really said anything or did anything. I just became that girl who worked really hard but stayed in the background out of fear. Those who know me now probably can't imagine this. These days, I make a special point to get to know my coaches and pick their brains about the game and improvement and all that. I tried that with this coach - we'll call her Coach Shaney - but it didn't really matter. It was clear that there was a hierarchy of things that was beyond my control. Before my younger teammates and I were even allowed to step foot on the Varsity floor, we were being specifically groomed to the coach's liking. Weaker players (with popular mommies and daddies) were being worked to death for improvement, while others like myself were all but ignored.

Now fast forward to Junior year: This was my time. I had waited through my sophomore year when all the older girls were still in control of the court. But now, I thought...NOW it'll be my time. Now all that was left was one senior player, a bunch of sophomores and freshman, and I was the lone junior. The summer before team practice sessions started I had worked my ass off. My parents had hired me both a personal trainer and a private basketball coach. I had improved all aspects of my game by 110% and absolutely could not wait to get out on the floor and show what I could do. All I needed was a little game experience, some confidence, and I just knew that I could shine. Especially on defense - in practice scrimmages I could strip the ball from anyone. I couldn't wait.

Unfortunately, in the weeks before the first practice I had gotten a terrible case of bronchitis and had run through the coughing in order to place in the state championships for my cross-country team. This had pretty much depleted my body for a while, and I came into the first practice not out of shape, but just not at the top of my game. I worked through it however, and within a few weeks I felt I had gained back whatever I had lost. I worked hard in practice and did well, and when games started I expected to be playing. I was wrong. At first, I would play 5-10 minutes. Then just five. Then five began to turn into three or four. Finally, after a game we had easily won, I trudged up the aisle of the bus to the seat of my coach so that I could confront her about having only played two minutes. I sat down and poured my heart out. "What am I doing wrong? What can I do to improve? How can I get more playing time??" It was basically a desperate plea to understand what it was that was so wrong with me. But I never could have expected the answer she would give. After mumbling something about shooting form and random rebounding issues that obviously indicated the fact that she hadn't really paid any attention to my play at all, she then dished out the lowest blows of all. She told me I was out of shape...and she told me she didn't think I was trying, or that I cared. How could she say this to me??? Tears flowed out of my eyes as I professed loving the game more than anything, more than life. And I begged her forgiveness for having not shown my tenacity on the court. I vowed to do better - swore it - and then returned to my seat where I sobbed in the corner, hating myself more and more with each passing thought.

From that day on, I was a machine. I woke early in the morning to practice in my driveway before school. I practiced before practice, I practiced after practice, and I practiced on Saturday when no one else was around. I ran suicides on my own every morning to get in better shape, and every extra moment was spent dribbling a ball or watching games - anything to help me improve. During running drills, players would tell me to chill out when they'd notice how I'd almost pass out afterwards - having beaten the entire team each and every trip down the court. But all of this really came to a head one day at practice when the coach's own daughter had smarted off and caused us all to have to hit the stairs. "Run until I tell you to stop," was the order, so we began running. Very quickly I was in the lead...and my lead grew. Pretty soon I had lapped them once, then twice...then three times. It was when I had reached the back of the line to begin my forth time lapping the rest of the team when I heard coach's voice yell out for me to stop. Not everyone else, just me. She had me sit down and rest while the others continued running for another 20 minutes. I didn't know whether she was rewarding me or just keeping me from making the others (her daughter included) from looking bad. I knew one thing, though - she had noticed me.

That weekend we had a big game versus our ultimate rivals - Shelby Valley. We hadn't won a game against them in almost 5 years, but tonight we had a chance. I went in once for about a minute - to give one of the starters a break - got a steal, and then was put back on the bench. I was pleased with how I had don, and was now praying I would get in again before the half. And I did. 30 seconds left in the first half, down by 2 points. I guess she figured this was the least "dangerous" time to put me in the game...maybe this way I couldn't "hurt anything".

As it turns out, I didn't hurt anything at all. One pass was made to me about 5 feet outside the 3-point arc. I spotted up, shot, and SWOOSH! Pikeville - up 1. We went into the locker room elated as I thanked God for the moment. My teammates practically carried me in before our halftime talk. We were told not to get too excited, but that we were doing a great job. I was so sure I'd get to go in again......but I didn't. We were down 2 points again at the end of the game. I didn't go in, a couple of girls missed some three pointers, we fouled them to stop the clock and lost by 5 or 6....

The next week, same thing happened. Down 2 at the end of first half. I go in, swish a 3-pointer. I never see the court again the rest of the game.

And then a funny thing happened. My playing time went from 30 seconds a game to not playing at all. I hadn't played for 3 successive games in a row when at the end of a game my coach particularly wanted to win, we were down by 3 with 15 seconds left. This time, when everything was on the line, she wanted me in the game! I went to the scorer's table but sadly, the clock never stopped and I never went in. In fact, I barely went in for the rest of the season.

I guess she didn't like scoring.

That summer I continued to play with the team. We played some scrimmage matches, one where we played Shelby Valley. I was allowed to play a full half since it was a scrimmage and in that half I made 4 three pointers, including one where I was fouled. I made the free-throw too. I wasn't allowed to go back in in the second half, and though we had been up by 10, we lost the game.

Every game for that entire year I drove home with teardrops splashing on my steering wheel. My dad once found me face first on the floor of my bedroom, sobbing into my jersey. I've never seen my father's heart break for me like it did that day. He knew this sport was destroying me, but he also knew he couldn't ask me to give it up...

Lucky for him, that's exactly what I ended up doing. The fall of my senior year had been the first year my school had fielded a soccer team. As it turns out, my coaches had respected my athleticism. I became the captain, tied for leading scorer, and played more minutes in every single 80-minute game than I had in an entire junior season of basketball. Still, thought, I didn't think I was ready to give it up. Until one night, on the bus ride back from my last soccer game, a few of the girls who knew the coach's daughter came to me and told me some of the things she had said about me. The coach's daughter, "Emily" we'll call her, had told them that the only reason I was on the team was because her mom felt sorry for me for being such a hard worker, but that I was terrible, and that every time I got in the games I messed things up. And that was it for me. This woman that I had respected so much, whether she had really said these things or not, was tearing me apart from the inside out.

The next day I packed my shoes just in case...but I knew what I was going to do. I walked into her office prepared to be strong - to tell her I was quitting and that was that; no tears. Unfortunately, that's not exactly how it worked out. I walked into the office, and slowly a monstrous lump began it's expansion in my throat till I could barely choke out words: "I'm retiring," I finally announced. She seemed "shocked" and almost caring. With a look of, "oh how sad" she cocked her head to the side and asked me if I was sure of my decision. I shook my head yes, and without warning my chin began to quiver. Tears came out of nowhere, and I began to quake from within. I began to apologize for not being better, to apologize for quitting...basically to apologize for being me. She walked over and hugged me as I shook, saying to me, "I'm so sorry, I know this hasn't turned out the way you wanted it too.." I almost want to puke when I think of those words now. When I think of the way I had been treated, undermined, lied to. I had never been the best basketball player in the world, but I was pretty damn good, and I would have been much better had I ever been given the chance to actually play. She then told me that she liked having me around for "team morale" because I worked so hard. But I wasn't going to be a mascot for anybody. I turned in the things required of me, gasped one more "I'm sorry", and left that office forever.

So many people told me I would regret quitting. And well, I guess in one sense I did. But what I really thought I would regret was ever having started playing in the first place, and especially having played for her. But now, many years later, the experience has had the opposite effect on me. It was in those early years of my athletic life that I learned how to work hard, and I learned to do it for little or no return. I did it for pure love of the game - and I still do, only a different game. And ya know, I'm glad I was treated so poorly. Had I not been, then perhaps I would have become a decent basketball player - maybe even played college ball. But would I have ever worn a red, white, and blue jersey? Would I have played in a National Championship? Would I have traveled to Europe? Played in the ocean in Iceland? Would I have met all the amazing people I have?? More importantly, would I ever have known what it's like to tackle and be tackled, or to push myself to the absolute physical and mental limit?? Would I ever have known what it's like to pull on a #9 jersey and feel that rush of being the general on the field, conducting and passing and running and yelling...no time-outs...no subs...?????

The answer to all that is NO. A hundred times no. And best of all, now I have the knowledge to truly appreciate all the wonderful coaches there are in the world of rugby. People who, in my experience, have sacrificed time, money, and plenty of sanity just because they love being out there. They've taught me not only how to be a better player, but in some cases how to be a better person as well. And beyond that, they've enriched my life by teaching me the little things...that puppets with machine guns can be funny, how to balance oranges on the back of your neck, when green and yellow toenail polish is a good idea, the alternate meaning of "ice cream", and that sometimes you've gotta fight to earn that "blue ribbon"... =)

I can't name one coach in rugby that has been the most talented or the most supportive or my favorite or whatever. They've all been amazing in their own ways - and to be honest, none of them have stopped teaching me. Despite my move to different teams or their moves to different jobs, I still receive feedback and support. It's an amazing network of people who have used every resource in their power to help me, and to help all those who are willing to learn. Because of that, I can't pick a favorite from among them. The only thing I can tell you, then, is about the worst coach I ever had...the worst, and the best.

She destroyed one dream, but in doing so, helped me to find another, far superior one. Her destruction of my self-esteem has allowed me to find the people who would eventually build it back up - the right way.

So thanks, coach. Thanks for destroying basketball so that I could find rugby. And thanks for being the best (worst) coach I've ever had.

Valentines Day is an Abombination...

2007-02-14T07:17:00.000-05:00

....on me at least. I hate today. And I really hate anyone that likes it. So I'm probably going to be holed up in my apartment being anrgy for a while. In fact, this is kind of an entire month that most of my teammates call my "winter hibernation period". Which basically means I'm way antisocial and only come out for practice and spend the rest of my time barricaded on my couch growling over the fact that winter won't go away, and that all the people who might warm it up a little live over 500 miles away. Last year I probably would have made like Jesus and busted open some wine by now - but don't worry, my box of Franzia is still entirely intact, waiting on more celebratory times to come =)

Anyways, that's my rant for today. Don't worry, tomorrow (or maybe even tonight) my bitterness will probably wear off and I'll have something more valuable to post...maybe even about rugby. But for now, I'm busy hating Valentines Day, and wanted to share my hate with the masses.

Hearts and Kisses. (blah).

Re-posting of a little issue called jealousy...

2007-02-12T22:03:00.000-05:00

Okay, so for some that may have read this before, this might seem a bit repetitive. But what happened was, well....I had written some stuff down...then thought about it...then took it off, and then was encouraged to post it back up again. So anyways, here are my thoughts on rugby jealousy, and it's effect on me...

So a couple days ago I get a phone call from a very good friend of mine, announcing that she had been invited to the Women's National Team training camp for the second time....now, despite the knife piercing through my heart feeling I get when I hear this news, I pretty much have to smile, say congrats, and try to swallow the giant lump in my throat as she describes the details of the event. It's not that I'm not happy for her advancement - really, I am. But what am I supposed to say to that? "Guess what? I got invited to the senior Eagle camp!" ...."Guess what!??! I DIDN'T!" - I mean, seriously...and it's not that I would expect an invite, on the contrary I would actually have been pretty shocked - I'm sure I'm barely even on the radar because no one has seen enough from me yet.....but it's not only that I don't expect to be invited, it's that she doesn't expect me to be either; and for that reason it doesn't even seem to cross her mind that I would pretty much run over my own grandma to be in her spot. And that it hurts a whole lot to hear about the successes that seem to come so easily for her and others, when I'm struggling for every single inch.

Though some sacrifices come in slow steady increments - the hours of practice and training building up over many years to form a lifetime of commitment - there are other kinds of sacrifice that have become excrutiatingly clear to me over the past few months, and make these kinds of comparisons and disappointments all the more poignant. Reaching my goals has become more than just an afterthought that comes to mind when school and playtime are pushed to the side. There was a long period of time when I believed I could make it the easy way like so many others - put a few hours in the gym, go to practice, spend a little extra time on skills and Ta dah! I would be there. And at first, only a few months into my rugby career and suddenly on a trip to the UK, it seemed like that. But that would last only so long for me. Unlike others blessed with so much natural athleticism and talent, I finally understand that it's going to take quite a bit more for me to put myself on an equal playing field with those folks who glide right to the top.

So that's what I've been doing. And that's pretty much ALL I've been doing. I spend my days training religiously every morning at 6:00am, which means waking at 5:30am, which means going to bed no later that 10:30pm. All the time in between is spent in class, studying, or doing a ton of cooking and calorie counting in hopes that I might add some coveted muscle weight to my frame. I don't go out to eat, I don't go to parties, and most weekends my truck doesn't even leave the parking lot. My new form of entertainment is hiking with Brutus through the snow, which, no offense to Brutus, is fun but less that conversationally stimulating. It's not that I don't enjoy being healthy and working to improve myself - but sometimes when I get late night drunk dials or look at old pictures of myself partying with the best of them, I miss that old life...and I'm not too proud to admit how gd jealous I get knowing that there are quite a few people out there who can enjoy those perks and still make it to the top...I mean, let's get one thing straight, I am not a fun-hater. In fact, those that know me pretty well might be reading this and thinking, "yeah right, she woudn't give up Jack Daniels to save her life!"...well, that' might be true, but I would give up Jack Daniels to save my rugby career. And I won't do it for money, or titles, or to prove something to anyone. I'll do it because the best days of my life were spent out on the pitch, on the road, and in the hotel rooms with some of the most talented rugby players in the country. I've made the best friends a girl could ask for, traveled to places I otherwise would have never seen, and I've done it all while wearing the colors of my country on my back. How many people can say that? Not many, and I'm certainly not ready to give it up.

So while I may be jealous of the ease with which so many others like my friend seem to glide right past me while I'm here, drenched in sweat and struggling to pedal uphill, I cannot lose focus on my own path as I covet their achievements. I've made it over the hump, and now I just have to keep my legs pumping until I reach the top. On my way, I may find myself jealous of those whose naturaly talent allows them speed past on their shiny motorbikes and air conditioned cars, but the truth is that motors break down and cars run out of gas. And when that happens I will still be pedaling...driving steadily uphill with the knowledge that if I ever do pull on that senior Eagle jersey and stand to hear my country's anthem, I'll have earned every stitch of that jersey and every note of that song.

And it will be worth it.

Very Random and Non-Rugby Related...

2007-02-11T19:58:00.000-05:00

Okay, so a friend just posted this picture of me on a private blog we have and I almost peed myself laughing....I have no excuses except that I was in high school when this picture was taken, which is to say, I was even more ridiculous than I am now. At any rate, I hope it brings some joy to your day!

P.S. Yes, those are pictures of Veggie Tales and Richard Nixon posted on my door in the background...again, no excuses...

*snicker* *giggle*...haha...

Coming out of hibernation

2007-02-11T10:41:00.000-05:00

Even though the ground is still covered with a thick layer of snow, and poor Brutus hasn't been on a real walk in about two weeks due to the artic chill, I found the inspiration to spend this morning oiling up my boots with leather food, and locating my trusty scrum cap. Why? Well, as I stepped outside this morning and found that the temperate was FINALLY in the positive degrees - a forecast of 29 today! - I started thinking about what the date might be....sure enough, it's already February 11th! That's only three days away from my least favorite holiday (I have never been in a relationship on V-Day, and thus never received a real valentine...but before I crack open a box of Franzia and start drowning my sorrows, I'll move on) - much more importantly, it's only 20 days away from my first rugby game of the season! YAY!!! Making the event even more exciting, is that this isn't a game for UNI, but a Midwest U23 event. I'll get to play with some of the best players in the Midwest (or for that matter, the country), catch up with some of my best rugby buddies, and also see some new faces just moved up from the U19 bracket. Better yet, we'll be playing in Memphis, which not only means that it will be MUCH warmer than it is here, but also that I'll get to utilize my redneckness for the weekend, go to Elvis's home for the first time, and just breathe that sigh of relief I always feel whenever I'm back in the south...

I'm not certain, but I feel like we're playing Mid-south u23 something or others - I should probably pay more attention. At any rate, we'll get two games in and supposedly I'll be holding the 9 jersey for both. Honestly, I can't wait to get out there. I've worked so hard over the course of this off-season, and I really want to get out there and see how all this commitment pays off on the field...I think this could be a very good year for me...

Yay, rugby =)

Humph....sigh....ughh...

2007-02-07T08:57:00.000-05:00

Yeah. That pretty much describes yesterday for me, and this morning.

Yesterday morning I woke up as usual at 5:30am so that I could get to the gym by 6:30 and do some sprints and throw some angry scrumhalf passes at the wall. I got up feeling a little drowsy and stuffy, but just brushed it off as being extra sleepy and went about my business.

Then I got to the gym and started on my sprints. After going through just three runs I seriously felt like quitting. My legs were moving and my body felt okay, but there was just this overwelming "ugh" feeling encapsulating me. However, I still thought this feeling just involved sleepiness, so I took a big internal gulp, and looked toward my favorite motivational trigger phrases. For instance:

"Navy seals wake up at 3am and swim through the dark ocean with sand in their underwear and no one cares how they feel"

OR

"Lance armstrong had cancer and he still rode his bike"

Or my favorite and most popular internal conversation begins with a question:

"What would Jonny do??" and then I usually answer my question with something like, "Jonny would train, dammit"

Okay, so I know that sounds a little more than psychotic, but it works for me, and I got through my workout, angry scrumhalf passes included.

Then I went home, took a shower, and again the blah feeling resurfaced. I began to get ready for school but then I just thought. Okay, this isn't normal, I must be getting sick. Maybe if I just go to sleep now and sleep for the rest of the day then I'll get rid of it.

Well, that's what I did ALL DAY yesterday - I slept and watched tv...nothing else. Brutus was even kind enough to snuggle and keep me extra warm. I even skipped practice in the interest of my health, and didn't set my alarm this morning to go to the gym. But you know annoys me??? I just feel exactly the same as I did yesterday - no worse, no better. Still BLAH. My food tastes icky and I have no energy, but other than that - I'm fine.

What is this plague upon my training? I suppose maybe I have some sort of virus and my immune system is doing an effective enough job at expelling it...but that the fight is taking up all my energy and I'm feeling those side-effects. That, I suppose, is better than puking my guts out, but still very frustrating. I suppose I'll just have to wait to get better...

In the meantime, I'll be here on my couch, feeling icky, and wondering "What would Jonny do?"

hmmm...

Probably sleep.....sweet rugby dreams everybody.

P.S. Does anyone else use any crazy motivational trigger phrases for those days when the last thing you want to do is workout?? Just curious...because some ppl tell me I'm crazy on this, but I'm betting there are other crazies out there ;)

Heyyy Jonny Jonny!! Heyyy Jonny!!!

2007-02-04T22:35:00.000-05:00

Superbowl? Who cares - Wilko is back in a white jersey for the 6 nations!!!

So the dude hasn't represented his country in three years due to every freak injury and illness imaginable. In fact, the last time he touched the ball with a rose on his chest was when he released it from his hands for that famous drop-goal to win England the World Cup...And so, after this long hiatus, what does he do???

He scores 27 freakin' points against Scotland, that's what!

Okay, so I've gotta say, as a fan of men's rugby (and men in general, haha) I'm usually more of a scrumhalf or flanker girl. I like the little feisty ones with thick necks and way too much testosterone for their angry little bodies. It's almost like Napoleon Syndrome is the number one requirement for my taste in men. I just love watching the little stocky guy go out there and take on the world - you know, the Peter Stringer's, George Gregan's, and to a lesser extent, even the Richie McCaw's and Byron Kelleher's of the world (the latter two being not so small, but still short, angry, pitbull types in their own right)...

Wilkinson, though, is another case entirely. He's a back - so in general, I'm less impressed by small stature and usually just chalk that up to meaning that a dude is just quick enough on his feet to avoid annihilation. But Jonny is just a different breed of flyhalf. He's like half pitbull and half greyhound - little and mean, but sleek and beautiful at the same time. And when I say beautiful, I mean BEAUTIFUL! And besides being a beast of a tackler and playmaker, he's the man with the golden boot. What more could you ask for in a 10?

So while I can't say that J-Wil is my fave player of all time - because well, like I said, I'm still more of a Napolean syndrome type of girl, and while Jonny is pretty damn small, he's just not rough enough around the edges for me - I can say that he is certainly the best flyhalf I've ever seen play the game. True, I haven't been around for too long, but I have a feeling a lot of people (particularly those across the pond) would agree with me on this. Besides, I'm a scrumhalf, and I know how to appreciate a good first five-eighths when I see one...

And so for now, while all the American football fans are sitting back and recovering from a long season of football, and Peyton Manning & Co. sit back for a much deserved rest, our European counterparts and fans around the world will be gearing up to watch their favorite countries battle it out in 6 Nations rugby. All eyes will be on an MVP of a different sort in Wilko - one who not only calls plays and passes - but catches, runs, tackles and kicks as well...

In the argument of rugby vs. football, doesn't that just say it all?

Rugby Love, Jonny...

Soccer vs Rugby

2007-02-02T12:30:00.001-05:00

Just a fun little clip you might want to show to your futbol buddies...haha. Though I think the rugby clips could be better the video is hilarious. I heart rugby =)

A Fluke?....or FRIGGIN AWESOME!!!!

2007-02-01T23:31:00.000-05:00

Okay....so I'm trying not to get too excited. But here is the update on my 4o yard time. Tonight at practice we ran indoors on the track in tennis shoes. No wind. I don't know why I'm reporting conditions but, whatever, they do it in the Olympics and right now I feel like an Olympian...

Anyways, so...Da da da DUM! my first run was a:

5.42!!!!!!!

I know, right!?! Okay, so if you don't know me, you probably don't understand the significance of that little number, so let me explain. I have always been, well, that slow kid that people mistake as looking really fast. When I first started playing rugby I weighed a buck fifteen and ran a 6.6 (wow) 40 yard time. Ridiculous. Luckily at u19 tryouts fate intervened and something happened to cause us to NOT time 4o's (thank the good Lord). Since that time, I have been able to lower my 40 to somewhere around a 5.9-6.1. Still not so hot (okay, so terrible) but an improvement. As time has gone on and I have advanced to higher levels, my 40 has kind of been my thorn in my side - an achilles heel, if you will. My goal, therefore, has been to lower it to a 5.7 flat - that's all I asked...

So imagine my sheer disbelief and utter amazement when I saw this time written down beside my name after my first run. "No f***ing way" was all I said to my coach". I then proceeded to find my way to the back of the line and prayed to all that was good and holy that I wouldn't run through the second time and pull a more likely 5.9...

So what happened? Another 5.42? Or did I clock something like a 6.1 and accept the first run as a fluke....welll.....I ran a:

5.61!!!

Yeah, I know!! Not as fast as the first run, but WHO FREAKING CARES!!! That's still over two tenths of a second faster than my previous fastest time. To check for accuracy, I went over and checked out everybody elses times - completely normal, if not a little on the slow side. Could it be? Am I no longer the slow kid??? I really really REALLY hope so. Average those babies out and you get a solid 5.51...an AVERAGE of a 5.51!!! I'm sorry...I just can't contain myself.

We'll be timing again next week and so I'll find out just how accurate these things are in a hurry...for now, I'll just enjoy this momentary blissssss =)

Iowa = Friggin' Cold

2007-01-31T01:19:00.000-05:00

Today the windchill dropped to temperatures of negative 25 degrees.

Iowa is COLD.

Rugby translation: I can't play outside.

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

Poetry Corner

2007-01-28T21:53:00.000-05:00

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

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

Sweet Dreams

‘Twas a snowy day I took a walk along a wooded path
When along my way I heard a sound - someone weeping off the track.
High and low I searched the brush till spotting human form,
I walked forth and saw a figure lying over snow and under thorn.

Creeping closer what more did I see, but a man crying as he slept,
Closer still though snow I crawled, to find cause of why he wept.
I touched his skin and startled back – as cold as ice was he!
Tears dripped from under clenched shut eyes and froze upon his cheek.

“Arise!” I yelled, “Dear man, I know not what dreams you have -
Sleep’s nightmare holds you in her grip – a deathbed as her wrath!”
No sooner had I spoke these words than he awoke, upon his side he turned,
Snowy lids he cracked then shut once more – my saving grace he spurned!

“Why man do you keep thee here? Know you not the risk you take?
Awake and see your nightmare’s fraud; get up for goodness sake!”
“Alas,” said he “The dreams are sweeter here, in Forever’s sleep upon the frost;
Men’s hearts weep not of wicked dreams they’ll have, but of sweeter dreams they’ve lost.”

Oh I almost forgot...

2007-01-26T22:39:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

Bon Appetit!!

Health Nut?

2007-01-25T09:22:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

Blizzzzard!

2007-01-21T12:29:00.000-05:00

Okay...so not really. But I'm from Kentucky, and there aren't too many occassions where there is 12+ inches of snow on the ground (only three I can think of in my childhood), so any large amount of snow kind of seems like a blizzard to me. Anyways, because there aren't really large enough hills for respectable sledding here in Cedar Falls, I decide I would just take Brutus out for a little Sunday romp in a local soccer field...Needless to say, he loved it!! We found a couple of sticks, which were able to capture his attention enough that I could let him off-lease without worrying he would get distracted and try to intimidate some poor old man on a snow-blower. Also, I will say that trekking a mile or so through some pretty thick snow, and then trying to run around in a field and keep up with a four-legged friend is hard work! For a while I got really hot and even threw off my coat and just romped around in my snow-overalls and a tank top (I felt a little like a badass, which was kind of fun).

Anyhow, here are some pictures I took of my bestest friend. Once we got home I ran inside and got my camera and then went back out to the courtyard of my apartment complex to capture some snowy close-ups. Isn't he just the cutest friggin thing in the world???

Here's one last one I took once we got back inside. I think it captures perfectly the idea of snuggling up on the couch on a cold winter day and just taking it easy:

I heart my dog =)

Footworkcamp dot com

2007-01-17T21:22:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

see you there ;0)

I heart rugby friends!!!

2007-01-09T10:27:00.000-05:00

So I've been away for a while again because I've been doing a lot of traveling. On friday I finally left Kentucky, my truck filled with clean laundry, Brutus, and 25 bucks worth of Kentucky Ale Bourbon Barrel (the best beer in the world, but only available in select liquer stores around lexington kentucky)...I was pretty sad to be leaving - I had already left the hills of eastern Kentucky and spent thursday night with one of my guy rugby friends from the Lexington Blackstones. He's a speedy little winger and one of the greatest guys I know, so he took me out to eat for my birthday and then let me bum a spot on his expensive couch while brutus (reluctantly) slept on the floor.

After about 10 hours of driving through the sea of farmland I arrived at my own little spot in the cornfields known as Cedar Falls, Iowa. I'm on this cleaning kick so I spiffied everything up and then sat down to relax, trying to figure out what I would do for the weekend before school started. There had been speculation that my friend Ace from Kentucky was considering driving up to Madison, WI to hang with my friend Maggie from U19's and Midwest...on saturday I found out that she was coming for sure, so I packed a little bag, threw Brutus back in the truck, and set off on another little adventure 3 hours away in Wisconsin!!

Even though I had to get up at 5am on monday morning to make it back for the first day of classes (BOO!), the trip was definitely worth it!!! Unlike most of the people you spend random weeks with throughout your life (friends from summer camps, beach flings, even old high school friends), rugby friends seem to always be there with open arms and an open couch. Despite the fact that total time I've spent with many of these people is likely under a month, the bond we have is amazing. Most of my birthday phone calls, Christmas text msgs, and random drunk dials throughout the year come from fellow ruggers, and I think that's awesome...

I've played a lot of sports over the years - basketball, softball, cross-country, soccer....but none of those seem to have the type of outside support I've found in rugby. And when you're looking to improve your game to reach that next level, it seems all you need to do is announce yourself and suddenly there are hands reaching out from everywhere looking for a way to give you a leg-up. Now, don't get me wrong...there are always a few bad apples in every bunch, but on the whole rugby players, coaches, and enthusiasts seem to be a really special group.

Having read Justin Marshall's autobiography over the winter break, I was very interested to find that a men's professional rugby player in New Zealand has had experiences not so different from my own. They play silly games like "killer", are full of pranks, and the bonds they have with fellow players cross even the most competive lines. Marshall, for instance, happens to be best buddies with another guy you might have heard of - George Gregan. After tests they often grill out at one another's house and talk often on the phone. It's encouraging to see that even loads of money and giant crowds can't change some things about rugby...hopefully it would be the same in this country if that kind of professionalism were to develop.

Anyhow, I have to be finishing this up because class is calling...but I just wanted to say thanks to all my rugby buddies out there. I love you all and am so glad I found this sport and these people - my life would be very different (and likely much less exciting) without them. I hope everyone out there had a wonderful new year as well!!

Tonight I have my first practice back from break, and this weekend I will be traveling to Philly for one of Jules McCoy's footwork camps (www.footworkcamp.com). I am very VERY excited to be back in full rugby mode!!!! I will write more about that later...until then.....

Rugby love!!!!

Happy Birthday to me....

2007-01-02T22:56:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

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

Seriously, I hate birthdays.

Rebirth

2007-01-01T07:38:00.000-05:00

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

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

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

Cut to the present...

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

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

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

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

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

-Doc

Long Time, No Blog

2006-12-22T22:29:00.000-05:00

So it's been a few days since my last post, but that's because I'm here at home...and since other people actually live here I have other things to do rather than sit in front of a glowing screen all day....

However, a few fun things have happened since my last post, and because of the different environment here (i.e. not being alone) I've had a little time to reflect on how that affects my training, lifestyle, etc.

Although living alone in Iowa, going to school, and training for rugby can be pretty boring at times, there are some benefits. For example, at school, I'm rarely likely to miss a workout, eat badly for several days in a row, or lose focus on my goals. However, I'm very likely to be really stressed, be extremely anti-social, watch tv WAAAY too much, check facebook like 4 million times a day, and to just generally drive myself nuts with self-criticism. On the other hand, being back at home surrounded by family, old friends, and the occassional rugby friend who flies all the way in from New Mexico (yay Jill!!) has kept me very busy. I have been social, fairly happy, only watched tv moderately, and best of all had some time to practice rugby and train a little with Jill (we totally made up some amazing back-row plays and are WAY excited). However, there are drawbacks to this lifestyle as well. I eat too much crap, have a tendency to go out and drink with friends which impedes me from working out the next day (hangover + sprinting = ugh), and just generally lose some of the focus I have when I'm alone....

What I really wish is that, at least while I'm here, I could find a way to mesh the good parts of both lifestyles. For instance, continue the discipline with my workouts and nutrition, while still spending time with friends and family. While going out occassionally for drinks is fine, so much so that it interferes with my rugby goals is definitely not cool - so maybe some of those nights I could be happy with just spending a few hours with friends and then heading home to bed. And when I get back to school in Iowa, perhaps I could curb my psychoticness by spending more time with friends (in a non-alcoholic way), curbing my tv time, and generally trying to enjoy myself a little more. The balance is hard to find in life....Obsessive seems to be good for my game, bad for my head...any thoughts?

Other than this hermit vs. social butterfly conflict, I was excited to find out today that in a couple weeks I am finally going to meet up with a very prominent USA Weightlifting coach and competitor to work on technique in Olympic Lifts. He and I have been corresponding by email for the past couple of years after I contacted him initially to find someone willing to give me some training on the more complicated lifts (Clean, snatch, etc). He managed to hook me up with one of the Univ. of Ky strength and conditioning coaches who trained me once or twice a week for free on his own time for a couple months, which helped me tremendously with my technique. Since my move to Iowa, I have kept in contact with both men, keeping them updated on the rugby world (one was an old UVA Rugby player so he knows the game), and letting them know about my successes and struggles along the way. I am very excited to meet up with them both after all this time, and will report back on what I learn in my session (I am promised that I will be taught some "secrets" to speed and will get my 40 time to where I want it to be)!!

In the meantime, it's late and the folks are returning from a Christmas party, so I should head downstairs and greet them.

I wish a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and a Fantastic Festivus (ever seen Seinfeld?) to all!!!!

Rugby Love

P.S.

C-A-T-S, CATS!! CATS!!! CATS!!!!.....UK over UMASS 82-68 tonight...How 'bout them Wildcats?!?

Country Roads, Take Me Home!!!!

2006-12-14T08:50:00.000-05:00

Yay!!!! Today after my last final at 10am, I'm packin up my white pickup truck and heading home to the Bluegrass State!!! There is NOTHING more exciting for me than getting over the state line and seeing the hills, horses, and mountains after having driven hour upon hour through the desert-like cornfields...SOOOO boring. I'll admit that the midwest has a lot to offer, I mean, it feeds the rest of the country, they drink lots of beer...they take care of their lawns...they have some kickass rugby =)....but a couple of things they certainly do not have is beautiful scenery and good weather. I mean, seriously, I don't mind the cold if it's worthwhile. When it snows at home or in a place like Colorado you can go sledding, skiiing, hiking, etc, etc. Here in Iowa what do you do? Well, if you're really ambitious you might build a snowman. And oh, btw, if a native midwesterner ever invites you sledding, excited that they have found a VERY big hill - do not believe them. It will merely be a patch of sloping grass and you will be very disappointed.

However, snow is not what I'm concerned with right now, because at 10pm tonight I'll be hanging with all my friends back home in Big Blue Nation, spending a couple nights at UK, and then heading home to Pikeville, KY where it is 65 degrees!!! Excited, YES!!!

What does this mean for rugby??? Well, for one it means I'll have a training partner and someone to catch my passes for a few days because my friend Jill is coming to visit from New Mexico...It also means I'll get a much-needed break from training indoors.

Country home, I love you.

P.S. The pictures are of my hometown (top, left), and Kentucky Basketball (bottom, right)

Forgive me, my brain is turning to mush...

2006-12-13T08:26:00.000-05:00

So I was just thinking....if the people on Star Trek had a teleporter that could just zap them wherever they wanted to go, why did they spend all their time traveling around in that spaceship?? Hmmm.....

Finals week: over the hump

2006-12-12T15:06:00.000-05:00

Having completed my first all-nighter in many, many months, I'm feeling a little cocky. Though no one ever wants to spend the wee hours of the morning writing pointless papers and studying useless facts (Did you know that the city of Astrakan is located on the Volga river??? Yeah..I didn't think so) somehow, the fact that I'm CAPABLE of doing so makes me want to pat myself on the back at least a little bit. After the 20 hour studying marathon, my yesterday was spent either sleeping or in a couldy daze, and all who came in contact with me were shocked to hear that my hillbilly accent was in rare, uninhibited form. It's not that I ever really TRY to change how I speak - and really, only in professional situations am I even concious of it. Yet somehow my brain seems to adapt to my surroundings without my permission so that when I'm away from my home in the hollers my accent tends to drift out a little. However, when confronted with lack of sleep, alcohol, excitement, or a phone call from a hometown friend my true voice comes back in full swing. Really, I wish it would just stay there. If you know me and have never experienced this, just call me on the phone and instead of beginning the conversation with "Hey, what's up", try something like this: "Wha'ya doin' bub?" or perhaps, "Ay, How 'bout them wil-cats?" or even , "wha'ya been up to keeler?" These key "hillbilly trigger phrases" are sure to bring out the little redneck in my voice.

Aside from the return of hillbillyishness, I'm pretty impressed with this being by far my healthiest finals week ever. Normally all rules of health go out the window right about now and I can be found downing mountain dews by the boatload, scarfing down endless amounts of chinese food, and when it's all over? Well, lets just say more that a little alcohol is consumed for celebratory purposes. And what of my strict workouts?? Well...that time is normally consumed by stress and studying. This time around, however, NONE of those things have happened. Yes, I did pull an all-nighter sunday night - but earlier that evening I ran sprints and lifted for a good two hours. I continued eating only the good-for-me things hanging around my kitchen, spoiling myself with fat-free frozen yogurt and natural peanut butter to spice things up. To stay awake a kept a four-pack of sugar-free redbull on hand, and that did the job nicely. A day of rest, relief, and a sh*t-ton of Vitamin C later I'm back on my feet and ready to hit the world head on once again. All the tough stuff is over, and now I just have to clean the abode and study for a couple measly essay tests. Considering that finals-time type stress usually throws me so far off track from my goals that I have to recommit all over again a week later, I'm pretty impressed with myself...

Perhaps this is a signal of change in my life? Maybe I'm learning how to deal without the stuff in the glass bottle, 5 pints of haagen-daaz, and just general emotional meltdown. It feels good.

Anyhow, the temperature is hanging out somewhere above freezing today, so I'm gonna head out for a nice session of box-kicks and scrumhalf passing - maybe I'll even practice some drop goals just for fun.....like I said, I'm feeling a little cocky =)

Take out your frustrations!

2006-12-10T16:37:00.000-05:00

So, there are a number of things that are making my life very frustrating right now, not the least of them being finals week. Since tomorrow I have to turn in two papers and take a test, I have spent most of today on my computer, rotting my brain away. Luckily, as I was venting my frustrations to one of my friends, she suggested that I try my hand at a little game called "God's Playing Field". Friggin awesome. You get to smash little people with a giant hand and lightning bolts and *sigh*, sadly I beat the whole game and then continued to play for 15 minutes after that. Anyways, I wanted to share it with the world. Enjoy!

Da-da-da-dum...some results...

2006-12-09T18:28:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm a little bit bummed today. I finally solicited someone to come out and time some 40's with me and well.....the numbers are all over the place.

My best time: 5.81
My worst time: 6.13 (also my first run)

The rest? Well, all over the place.....5.94, 6.04, 5.84...etc, no consistancy.

The 5.81 isn't so bad considering some of my times in the past.....my best time at a tryout was a 5.85, so this would be better than that. What concerns me is that I'm not consistent. Even if I have a 5.75 in me, if I step up to the line at a tryout and pull a 6.1 out of my ass, then it doesn't really do me much good....I mean, seriously, we only get two runs at it...=(

So yeah, a little discouraging. I work out everyday...I do the speed stuff...I eat well....ya know, live the life - I'd just like to see some results. And aside from tryouts, what really matters is what happens on the field. If I am improving my speed, can I show it out there where it really counts? Hopefully footwork camp in January will help me out a little bit where that is concerned, but I suppose I'll have to wait and see.

If anyone has any tips, feel free to send them my way.

Rugby love to all...

-KY

The benefits of being a "recreational athlete"...

2006-12-07T16:03:00.000-05:00

Some days (not today because I'm feeling pretty optimistic) when that alarm goes off at 5:30am and I drag myself off of my shatty couch, I'm not the happiest of campers. I wipe the sleep from my eyes and the ice from my windshield, and then navigate the deserted streets toward the UNI wellness & rec center, all the while shivering and constantly reminding myself of how much warmer I would be had I not left Kentucky to better my rugby career. When I finally get into the building and give the workers at the desk my card to swipe, there is about an 85% chance that one of them will find something wrong with my Student ID and question whether or not I'm allowed to go in. It must be so obvious in their minds that everyday I wake up before dawn and deviously dress entirely in UNI Rugby attire, grab my *fake* student ID, and with a bag full of plyo cones and a rugby ball prepare to cause trouble at the rec - I mean, seriously. If I'm lucky, I convince them of my pure intentions (either that or fill out no less than 2 "official documents") and am permitted to pass. Once on the basketball courts I proceed to do the running/plyo part of my workout, all the while battling the occassional soccer girls doing some ridiculous workout involving kicking a medicine ball around the perimeter of the court. Eventually, I finish up and head upstairs to the free weight room that will be closing to "non-athletes" sometime in the next hour, so I have to hurry. Despite this being the only time of day that I am able to use both the basketball courts and the free weight room within the same time frame (thus waking at 5:30), you can imagine how demoralizing it is to open the door and find an entire team of wrestlers, softball players, or basketball players taking up every possible rack and platform in the place. As I struggle to work around them and get in all the hang cleans, front squats, and chin-ups required for the day, I'm always amused to overhear some of the conversations going on around me. Some complain of being too tired, others talk about how wasted they got the night before, still others are begging their strength coach to, "take it easy today". Not that I've never been guilty of asking a coach for a let-up, or that I'm not tired in the morning, it just always serves to remind me that unlike these athletes, I don't have to be there. No one will cut my playing time if I skip today's workout or take away my non-existant scholarship money. No one checks to see if I'm getting stronger or if I've been eating right or if I'm getting any faster. No one forces me to contstantly watch films and analyze my mistakes in order to improve my performance...

No one, that is, but me.

For all the flaws of being a highly competitive rugby player - the incoveniences, the lack of support, the lack of money - there is something deeply satisfying about knowing you did it yourself. Call me crazy, but there is some type of high I get everytime I complete a week's worth of workouts that no one "made" me do; everytime I sneak into the "athlete" basketball gyms to practice my scrumhalf passing against the wall for an hour; everytime I politely decline an invite to a night of boozing...And everytime I forget why it's worth it, I look at those jerseys hanging on my wall and remember all the experiences and priviledges my sacrifices have afforded me...and I don't regret a second.

I may be tired, stressed, poor, and sometimes even a litter bitter, but in the end I believe that what does not kill us does indeed make us stronger. I started as a 115 lb shrimp of a scrumhalf who somehow Kamikaze tackled her way to U19 National Team tryouts, and from there I've never looked back. I'm still not the most naturally gifted athlete in the world, but I've built myself into a person I can be proud of, and I have rugby to thank for that.

Not too long ago, I was searching through Latin quotes that Roman soldiers and gladiators used thousands of years ago for inspiration, and I came upon one that I felt really described who I strive to be as a player and a person, and thought others might find it inspirational as well. The quote:

CONCUSSUS SURGO

or in English, "When struck, I rise". Hmmm....maybe it's time for a new tattoo ;)

Reason #587 Why I want Jonny to be back for WC07

2006-12-05T22:43:00.001-05:00

Okay...so I love the USA and all, and it would probably benefit the Eagles for Jonny NOT to be back for their game against England...but, seriously, I heart J-Wil...and this clip is a good example why.

To Do List...things to do before I kick the bucket (in no particular order).

2006-12-05T14:31:00.000-05:00

1. Sky Dive (unoriginal I know...but really, what could beat jumping out of a plane)

2. Go to Alaska

3. Learn to play guitar

4. Write a book

5. Hike at Yosemite (thanks to Streets awesome pictures from her trip)

6. Swim with dolphins

7. Play rugby in New Zealand

8. Own a Cane Corso (type of dog...I'm kind of a dork)

9. Learn to ride a motorcycle

10. Go rock climbing

11. Meet an All Black

12. Revisit Iceland

13. Go to a UK vs. Louisville or Uk vs. Duke basketball game while covered in blue paint

14. Hike part of the Appalachian Trail

15. Read the Bible (well, at least the good parts)

16. Punch someone in the face ( I guess this shouldn't have immediately followed the bible thing)

17. Date a guy with an accent...preferrably australian, kiwi, or irish

18. Captain a high level select-side team

19. Run a 5.5-5.6 40 yd dash

18. Bench press more than my body weight

19. Score a drop goal

20. Chop down my own chistmas tree

21. Go hunting and actually shoot something

22. Get married and have my daddy walk me down the aisle

23. Own a horse

24. Live in a foreign country

25. Learn how to make my grandma's strawberry jelly

...more to come when I think of it. For now, these will keep me busy I think...

Randoms

2006-12-03T22:03:00.001-05:00

So I heard this song on the new American Medical Association commercial...I found it on this site and just thought I'd share the link because, I dunno, I like mushy songs and stuff like that, and just in case anyone else does, here goes:

http://www.bigshouldersdubs.com/clients/ama/webpost/WhatsInFrontOfMe-Audio.html

lyrics:

What's in Front of Me

If I could give you
Would you receive?
Could we find the faith together to believe?
If in my choosing I still had a choice
If I speak for those who are without a voice

Oh may I be
One who sees
What's in front of me
What's in front of me

I am but one voice
I'll sing clear and strong
Until a half a million voices join our song
Our hearts are open
Our arms are wide
And if the water rises
We'll be here to turn the tide

Oh may I be
One who sees
What's in front of me
What's in front of me

Rugby Writer...

2006-12-03T14:58:00.000-05:00

As I explained in my profile, I am an english major, and on rare but gratifying occassions I am able to mix my love of rugby with my studies in english. One such occassion occured last year when I took a Personal Essay class. On the first day I was told we would need to come up with a day, event, or moment in time which had been important to us enough to write a short essay about. I knew immediately what I would write...

This is an essay about the last game I played on the U19 GNT United Kingdom Tour 2004. I may not remember all the details, but I remember this:

Wings

“I’ve always wanted to fly…” I whispered to myself as I traced the outline of the Eagle with my finger, watching as my battered hand slowly made its way over each stitch of white thread, then across the bold blue letters spelling out “USA RUGBY”. The words and logo were stitched onto the left side of my jersey, right above my heart, so I could feel the pounding inside my chest as I sat against the wall thinking back to a time when I knew so desperately what I wanted out of life, and not a clue how to get there.

I closed my eyes and cradled my forehead in my hands. I could see myself there, just a kid staring out the window of my grade school classroom, watching as a jet soared past. I wished I could just beam myself up into the sky – to be a pilot, an astronaut, even a bird – anything that would get me into the air. As that fantasy took hold of my early life, I had already made plans to join the Air Force. For me, defending my country from the cockpit of a jet, traveling at the limits of man’s imagination, was a dream I salivated for. But that was a long time ago. Today I was 19, and there was no Air Force, no jet, no dream.

I lifted my head from my hands and studied the red, white and blue bandage that was wrapped around my thigh, relieving pressure from a knee that would buckle in pain without it. Bruises of every color were splotched about my legs, while my hands were a collaboration of scrapes, cleat marks, and the telltale signs of more than a few previously broken fingers. The contrast of my sparkly red, white and blue nail polish and inspirational words written in Sharpie reading, “LEAD” and “COWBOY UP” made my otherwise hideous hands appear comical.

Three weeks of devastatingly hard work had molded those hands, and led directly to this moment. On the inaugural overseas tour of the U19 Girl’s National Team, we had battled Wales and lost; clashed with Canada and tied. Now poised to take on our biggest challenge yet, the English, we were told there was no chance – we would be destroyed, embarrassed, and sent home to America with nothing of Britain but the soil between our cleats. Yet for us, embarrassment was not a possibility. We were the USA – The Eagles – and though we were scared, we were ready.

Thinking back, I’m certain that if an outsider had entered those doors he could have smelled the anxiety. Yet we were so saturated in our angst that it was no longer detectable to us. Only the pungent odor of a burning ointment we liked to call “Devil’s Spit” and the occasional waft of a stench escaping our cleat bags was evident. Nervous clinks of metal against pavement echoed from the cinderblock walls as players tapped out apprehension with their cleats. The sound of my own boots was likely to be leading this symphony of clicks, as no one’s stomach could have been filled with more butterflies than my own. Just nine short months ago I had scarcely even heard of rugby, and suddenly I found myself among the fifteen best young players in the country. Not only that, but I was to lead them at the position of scrumhalf – a quarterback of sorts on a rugby team. Despite my lack of experience, it would be my duty to direct my teammates, make crucial decisions, and distribute the ball across the field. If I didn’t know what I was doing, I would sure as hell have to figure it out soon.

These were my thoughts as we donned our country’s colors the on the 3rd of July 2004, 228 years after our nation first celebrated its independence from the British. I was reminded that we Americans would once again be challenging our English brethren for respect – albeit in a very different arena – and I would be the one to lead them into battle. I looked again at the Eagle resting over my heart, its wings outstretched and talons ready as if coming in for the kill…I took a deep breath.

The thick silence of pre-game thoughts was broken when we were abruptly called together by our coaches. Our head coach, Karl Barth, looked irritated, “Looks like they aren’t gonna do the National Anthems…apparently they don’t have the speakers set up or something…” he explained, his voice trailing off as he muttered some indecipherable obscenities to himself, clearly displeased with the unpreparedness of our hosts. Groans and whispers quickly filled the locker room as we looked over to the flag on our left, disappointed that we wouldn’t be able to stand with our hands to our hearts one final time before going home.

Our disappointment, however, would quickly turn to surprise and a slight uneasiness as it was agreed upon by our coaches that we would sing the anthem ourselves, right there in the locker room. Panicked glances sliced through the air from player to player, none daring to dispute the decision, but each unsure if she even knew the words, let alone would be able to sing them. Nevertheless, we stood there together, shoulder to shoulder, some with their right hand clutched proudly over their heart, others with their arms tucked politely behind their backs. All eyes faced straight ahead, firmly locked on the stars and stripes we had pinned across the wall. As we waited for the cue to sing, I prepared myself for a butchering of notes, took one final breath, and fell into chorus with the others. We sang timidly at first, “Oooh say can you seeee…” clearly unsure if our own voices would do justice to such an important song, on such an important day. Slowly, the noise rose. As each note became louder and clearer than the last, there was a feeling in the air that something special was taking place. There were no longer many voices but one, and the fear of mangling words and notes of such a difficult song had somehow transformed itself into the pride of belting out our National Anthem. In that moment, it seemed as though we were singing to a thousand people – as well we could have, the voices were so strong. As we came to the end, “for the land of the free and the home of the brave” became more than just words, but rather an unspoken pact to play not only for ourselves, but for our country. A few tears escaped the eyes of our coaches as we put our hands together in a hot circle of skin, sweat, and pride. Our captain counted off:

“USA on three…one, two, three…U-S-A!!!!!” At that, I found my place in line as we burst through the door, across some pavement, then glided in formation over the grass to meet the English, the wings of Eagles shining brightly from our chests…

Yes, I’d always wanted to fly.

Accountability is a scary thing...

2006-11-30T23:32:00.000-05:00

Okay, so when I started this blog I had in mind that people would read it (I mean, seriously, why else would you write stuff on the internet?), but I suppose that somewhere, somehow in the deep recesses of my twisted little mind I had imagined that no one ever would. That I would be able to put down in cyberspace somewhere distant from everyone else that I in four years I was going to play on the National Team; that I was going to get in the ultimate physical shape; that I was truly going to make a life change and truly going to commit myself at a deeper level than ever before......

but if no one ever read it, what would it matter if didn't happen???

But then...just when I was feeling myself starting to slip, just when my goals were looking a little too lofty - I became accountable. Accountablity is a funny thing. It can be a concrete kind of accountability - like grades or job assignments or the law. OR it can be that little nagging guilt you feel when someone else is witness to your shortcomings. That thing in the back of your mind that keeps you from eating the whole box of cookies when your roommate is watching, or the fact that EVERYONE washes their hands so long as someone else is in the bathroom, whether they are strangers or not. Well, this is kind of like that. Now that people may be watching I suppose I'm a little more inclined not to f*** up. So anyways, here's how I was discovered:

These rugby bloggers must be an inquisitive group (either that or far better at navigating random blogs than I am) because somehow I was spotted from amongst all the junk out there and added to the "ruckosphere".

My presence on the web was announced on an awesome rugby blog called Saturday's a Rugby Day. Check it out here:

http://saturdayrugbyday.blogspot.com/2006/11/another-gal-in-ruckosphere.html

Let's hope this accountability thing works.....tomorrow morning I'll be up at 5:30am to resume my conditioning regimine. And if I'm not? Well, I guess I'll be letting you know....

Numero Uno Status de Kentucky

2006-11-27T12:07:00.000-05:00

Today is not the best start to my post-Thanksgiving dedication de fitness. Lucky for me, Friday morning I awoke feeling a little under the weather, and my mini-plague has decided to persist even after my return to the cornfields. While I was at home and still hadn't restarted my diet it wasn't so bad - I sat on the couch and watched endless amounts of movies and tv while my parents were more than happy to doctor me with thanksgiving leftovers, pizza, ice cream, and coke. Knowing that all of these treats would soon be a thing of the past made relishing them all the more important. However, all good things must come to an end, and with the end of my stay in Kentucky, so ended my binge of wonderfully tasty things.

Though the 12 hour drive wasn't the coolest with a cold, I will say that I am exceptionally proud of myself for not cheating ONCE even over the course of the entire drive. To stay awake, I had merely a single sugar free Red Bull, and to eat, I dined on McDonalds and culvers grilled chicken sandwiches. Though not ideal (because you never know what those ppl add to their food), I will had to say that I was pretty good, and for one of the three meals I ate on the road, only scarfed down the chicken, and left the bun. This brings to my attention how difficult it is to eat out, especially fast food, when trying to eat healthy. Yet, I am also reminded that it is POSSIBLE. Things like grilled chicken, water, baked potatoes, yogurt, salad and even fruit are all menu items that can be found at various popular fastfood places. To be healthy, you just have to TRY!!!! (and also forgo taste and enjoyment from time to time, but that's part of the fun, eh? ;)

In any case, the nutrition facts for ALL the foods you injest at those chains can usually be found at their websites, here are some of them:

http://www.mcdonalds.com/app_controller.nutrition.index1.html#0

http://www.wendys.com/food/pdf/us/nutrition.pdf

http://www.arbys.com/nutrition/

http://www.subway.com/applications/NutritionInfo/index.aspx

Anyhow, as of today I still remain on track for not having cheated - although I must confess that being in hurry caused me to skip my morning doses of vitamins and creatine, but I'll get to those upon returning home. I tried to get up at 5:30am to do my morning workout, but was unable due to the persistance of my cold. When I return home I will probably throw myself straight onto my couch for a giant nap. Let's hope that will energize me enough, if not for a short weight session tonight, then to resume my "rugby greatness" program for tomorrow morning. I hate being sick but let's face it, to push myself further than I am capable will only hold me back in the long run...so I'll just have to continue the nutrition end and hope to be back at full strength VERY soon.

P.S. My goal is to post pictures of my progress every two weeks, along with weight, fat %, 40 times, etc. STAY TUNED!!!

Meal Plan Details -

2006-11-27T08:10:00.000-05:00

So last time I wrote down what I eat for my meal plan, but now I have for you the details of my diet. First, here are the options and serving sizes:

Protein

4oz lean beef, poultry, fish
6 egg whites
1 yolk, 3 whites
1 scoop protein powder

Fat

1 tsp mayonnaise
1-2 tsp salad dressing
1 tbsp peanut butter

Fruit

1 pear, apple, banana, kiwi, orange
½ cup fruit cocktail
¾ cup blueberries
1 ¼ cup strawberries
½ cup applesauce

Carbs

2 slices whole wheat bread
½ cup pasta cooked
½ cup brown rice cooked
¼ cup grape nuts
½ cup cooked oatmeal
¾ cup shredded wheat
5 oz baked potato

Now for the actual Meal Plan:

Meal 1

1 carb
1 fruit
½ protein
multi-vitamin
3g glutamine
fish oil
vitamin C
5g creatine

Meal 2

1-1 ½ carb
1 protein
1 fat

Meal 3

1 carb
1 protein
2 fat
1 veg
fatty acid

Meal 4

1 carb
1 ½ protein
1 fat
1 veg

Meal 5

1 ½ protein
1-2 veg
fatty acid
vitamin C
multi-vitamin

You'll notice that this diet also includes some supplements. When exercising and dieting, you're body is undergoing a lot of stress and changes. It is important that your body still receive all vital nutriets. In addition to those nutrients (Vit C, Multi-Vit, Fatty Acid such as fish oil) I have also added Creatine and L-Glutamine. In my experience, creatine is one of the safest and most effective supplements on the market. It can be cycled on for one month, skipped for a week, and then restarted again. The only important thing to remember when taking creatine is to be sure that you drink enough water, because it works its magic through delivering extra water to the cells in your muscles, allowing them to work longer and harder - without that water the body becomes easily dehydrated and could be sucking it out of more vital areas. Glutamine is an amino acid which can work wonders in your body promoting health and growth.

Here are two articles from www.bodybuilding.com which can help you learn more about these supplements:

Amino Acids:

http://www.bodybuilding.com/fun/catamino.htm

Creatine:

http://www.bodybuilding.com/fun/likness2.htm

Also be sure to check out all the other wonderful articles on this site about everything from nutrition, supplements, workouts and more!!! (there are even rugby articles!)

Thanksgiving!!!! (YES!!! and no...)

2006-11-23T11:30:00.000-05:00

Alright, so it's Thanksgiving, which is great for family time, getting to go home to the mountains (thank God), no school, and lots of FOOD. Which, I have to say, I'm pretty excited about, seeing that I get to start chowing down in a couple of hours. However, as you can imagine, this isn't so great for my "plan". One might wonder if, in the effort to get in maximum shape one should forgo all the goodies that come with this awesome holiday. However, I would say no. It's not the "once in a while" eating that gets us, it's the everyday extras: candy, toppings, corn syrup, white bread...basically all those little luxuries that make food taste AMAZING. If you can cut most of those out of your daily diet, then getting in ultimate shape is a definite possibility.

Here is a sample of the diet plan I am currently TRYING to stick to - though I don't have the exact meal plan with me at the moment to put down, I can give you a sample day of what I eat:

Meal 1: 3-4 egg whites
1/2 cup oatmeal made with skim milk, sprinkled with raisins

Meal 2: 2 slices WHOLE WHEAT bread (this means first ingredient is Stoned Ground Wheat)
6 oz. sliced Deli turkey
lettuce
1-2 tsp light miracle whip

Meal 3: 1 scoop protein shake
2 tsp peanut butter
celery

Meal 4: 1/2 cup brown rice
1 can light tuna packed in water
1-2 tsp miracle whip

Meal 5: 1 whole egg, 3-4 egg whites
1 cup steamed or grilled vegetables

Keep in mind that 3/4-1 gallon of water should be consumed everyday, and also that one day a week is a cheat day. Even though I try my best to stick to this diet, things come up and I am trying to be dedicated without being obsessive.

There are also SUPPLEMENTS that need to be factored in, and I will get to those tomorrow. Although not a necessity to a nutrition plan, I have found that they do help me to look and feel my best, and will hopefully make it easier for me to reach my goals as an athlete.

Journey to the TOP

2006-11-20T09:08:00.000-05:00

Well, here's where it all begins. This blog is to serve as a journal, a record, and a motivator along the way as I struggle for the next four years to put myself in a position to play on the USA Rugby Women's National Team World Cup squad, 2010. On a daily basis I struggle through temptations such as bad nutrition, alcohol, laziness, and my biggest killer - depression. This blog will deep daily records of my mood, workouts, and nutrition, and also regular records of my weight, bodyfat, 40 yrd. times, max weight records and so forth. I'll also chime in with regular blurbs about what's on my mind, important updates about my life, milestones in rugby, college and career.

Feel free to leave any comments you like - I could really use motivation and a kick in the ass from time to time!!! If you have any questions for me about rugby, fitness, or the meaning of life, I'm sure I have some answers =).

Nov. 20th, 2006...life change starts NOW!!!!