Top 50 Approaching

I can hear the theme from Jaws. Top 50 is make-or-break. It will be the last hurrah for some, and for others, it will be the beginning of the next leg of the journey to the Final in '14.

Jeez, '14 is here. We've been using "Final in '14" for about four years now, and it has always seemed like a faraway land. A distant dream. However, it's here now. '14 is here and the World Cup will be soon.

When I take that into consideration--that phrase and how long we've been using it--I realize that whether the Top 50 camp is my last hurrah or another rock in the river I'm crossing, I have been a part of a great journey. That journey has seen the USA WNT change and it's seen me change. I suppose many people will measure its greatness and worth based on our performance at the World Cup, and those people would be justified for doing so. However, for those who have committed to the journey and have seen it change us, physically, mentally, emotionally, know that it has been a great journey. Even in its incomplete form, it has been great.

By no means does that mean we are content with it in its current state. We want to see our baby grow. We want to be in the Final in '14. We want to be the fittest, strongest, most cohesive and fluid rugby team in Paris, and of course anything less than that will be disappointing. But it won't be disheartening.

There are some verses from the Tao Te Ching I'm thinking about as I write this:

In the universe great acts are made up of small deeds.
The sage does not attempt anything very big,
And thus achieves greatness.

I believe these lines are the essence of what I'm trying to say about this team. The end is not our focus. I think that's why the World Cup still seems so far off. We are focused on the now--the things we can do today to make ourselves better rugby players and make our team better, and knowing we are a part of something great is enough for now. 

What Day Is It?

Seriously, what day is it? This morning, I asked my lovely girlfriend if she had gotten to work yet. She responded that it is Saturday. I think that spreading travel over two days is to blame for my lack of time awareness. If I have had to drive to an airport, fly to various cities, take trains around said cities, ferry into a different country and ride my 30-year-old ass on a big yellow school bus to a dormitory, then I should be forgiven for overlooking the fact that two days come between Friday and Monday.

Anyway, I suppose Day 2 (or Day 4, according to my estimations) of our venture into Canada has come to a close. We finally made it to Victoria, which is on Vancouver Island fyi (I may have told some people that we would be in Vancouver and I may have told others Victoria, but, in the words of my lovely girlfriend, “Meh, six of one…”). And tomorrow we have a full day of practice, gym and everything else rugby. But now it's time for sleep.

Keep On Keeping On

I'd like to talk a bit about being sidelined for a bit. Nobody likes being injured or hearing about injury, and most people don't like talking about it unless they're looking for a pity party. And really how much fun are pity parties? I mean the guests are either really drunk, trying to drown their sorrows or sad and teary-eyed. The food is horrible for you--buckets of ice cream, pounds of chocolate, enough fired food to clog miles of arteries--and you're expected to eat enough for three people and those people's dogs. The music sucks--full of sad songs, unrequited love songs, breakup songs, a lot of country--and you can't dance to it. What I'm saying is that I'm not looking for pity and I despise pity parties. 

Last weekend, I pulled a rhomboid muscle at camp. It sucked. In fact it sucked so much that I've already ranted once, over blog, about it (you can check that blog out here http://usarugby.org/womens-eagles-blog/item/sitting-out?category_id=451). I don't want to rehash that. If you want to read how I feel about being sidelined, check out that blog. 

Instead, I want to talk, now, about one of my teammates--someone who is very close to me. My boo, Hunter, tore her ACL back in November and has been sidelined since then. What's more is that she went into her surgery too soon (the swelling in her knee hadn't subsided and she had very, very limited range of motion), and so she had to get a second surgery to clear out scar tissue and fluid so that her recovery could progress. Now she's running. That's great news for her, because her recovery had come to a virtual standstill before the second surgery. Now she's running. Running. She's doing drills at rugby practice and she's back in the gym. 

Let's put this into perspective. All of November, December, January, and February she was out. At the end of February she had her second surgery, and about two weeks after that she was back in the gym (riding the bike, doing some leg press and getting her leg stronger). She was out for four months. In those four months, she had to watch her team play their final game at nationals, miss the NY 7s tournament, deal with the holidays, support me while I attended USA rugby camps, stand on the sidelines for the first few weeks of spring season practice, watch the Furies win ruggerfest and deal with a recovery that was hampered by complications. However, she has handled being sidelined with a resolute spirit and a adaptability akin to a chameleon. She was voted, by the Furies to be a co-captain and has enthusiastically taken on a leadership role without being able to demonstrate, on the pitch, why she deserves that role. That, my friends is tough, and it's a testament to how much her teammates respect her and how much effort, physically, mentally, emotionally and socially, she has put into her game and her team. 

Now I don't want this blog to turn into the Ballad of Hunter Griendling. However, I gained a new respect for her after I pulled my rhomboid and had to sit out for a couple of days (oh woe is me, right...I'm singing the blues about having to sit for a couple of days). I just wanted to give her a shout out--her and all of the competitors who find themselves sidelined, but keep on keeping on instead of getting DJ Cry Me A River to throw their pity party. 

Camp This Weekend

Camp, camp, camp...all day long. That's going to be my weekend. The WNT is holding two regional camps this weekend--one on the east coast and one on the west. The east coast camp will be held at James Madison University, which I am stoked about. The 2hr drive will be soooo much better than the 6-7hr drive to Penn State. However, while I'm basking in the convenience of camp being super close, there are some who have to fly in, and that really sucks, so I won't gloat.

Tomorrow starts a busy weekend, but as I said in an earlier blog, I am ready for the busy. In two days (well a little less than two days) we will have completed four practice sessions, two gym sessions, and several meetings. If all that rugby and working out isn't exciting enough, we also get to see some teammates (those flying in) we haven't seen in a while.

It should be a great weekend, and I get to kick off that greatness, by working until 10pm and then driving 2+ hours to JMU. Like I said, bring on the busy. Just bring it.

Busy Busy

Spring season is upon us and I am looking forward to it--mostly because it's rugby, but partly because it's spring and I'm absolutely over this snow crap. This year spring season will bring a new challenge. Not only will I be playing with a different team, the DC Furies, but I will be training for a chance at making the World Cup roster for the Women's National Team. While I'm excited about my new team and the opportunity to compete in a World Cup, I know that my schedule is going to be BUSY. Actually, "busy" may not carry with it the scope of crazy I am expecting. Maybe "hectic" or "swamped" or just "crazy busy." 

However busy I may get, I feel like I am prepared for it. I have thought about my free time (more specifically, how to carve some out). I have considered my relationships and have talked with the people in my life, who are incredibly important to me, about my time commitments. Most of all, I know that I can only do my best and then trust in the natural processes of things. Things aren't so mysterious and unpredictable as we sometimes imagine. Good things tend to happen if we work--actually work--for them. Of course, there are things like obstacles, set-backs and stress, but these are part of the natural processes as well. We can only be prepared for them (that doesn't mean obsessively worry about them) and then address them when they appear. And sometimes the things we see as setbacks may turn out to be catalysts to our success. At least that's my take on things. So I say bring on the busy; bring on the difficult. And here's to a great spring season and a shot at a World Cup roster. 

Camp Closing and (Delayed) Return to "Real Life"

The USA WNT winter camp is officially done, however not all players and staff are done with their journeys home. Some had delayed flights, some had flights get cancelled, some got stuck in airports along the east coast, some stayed in a hotel last night watching Gator Boys and Finding Bigfoot, and at least one has to stay in Florida an extra three days. Though the trip home, for some, has been less than ideal, our journey this past week was one full of progress, intensity, camaraderie, and learning. 

Camp ended on a high note--with a match that demonstrated a high level of progress made and learning done since the initial scrimmage at the beginning of camp. Play in the second scrimmage was much cleaner and more intense than in the first, despite players spending three days, between the two scrimmages beating the crap out of each other. This was a testament to the malleability and excellent physical condition of the players. Though we, the players, were very pleased with the outcome of camp, we know we are only entering the trailhead on our journey up a mountain. 

We discussed our World Cup journey several times during camp and made plans to continue our progress and hold each other accountable during that journey (plans that we outlined on the lovely makeshift whiteboard you see in the picture). I feel really good about the foundation we've built and the steady footing everyone seems to have at this point. I also feel very fortunate to be a part of this program. We are already cogs in what has become a great machine, and we have the potential to be even greater. We have the potential to do things that some people try and fail to do, some people only dream of doing, and still the great majority are afraid to even think about doing--we have the potential to be the best at something--and I'm excited about that.

Who Is This Guy...

...and why does the albino tiger want to maul him?

Answer: This guy is Mike Ilitch, owner of the Detroit Tigers and he is standing (or has had his standing image superimposed) in front of Comerica Park, the Tigers stadium.

I know, it looks like your high school biology teacher is standing in front of one of those horribly awesome 90s school photo backgrounds. This is the poster that welcomes us in the lobby of our dormitory here at Tigertown. Sometimes Ole Mike and his wispy auburn locks (google "Mike Ilitch hair" if you want a good chortle) startles me or some of my rugby comrades after a long day of throttling each other. The image is awfully lifelike and Mikey's smile is a little creepy--like the creepy smile of that gilded, greasy guy at the bar who just wants to buy you a "cocktail."

Okay, enough about Mike Ilitch and his hair. Today, I rose from the rigidly unforgiving mattress of a Tigertown bunk bed a little sorer than I was yesterday, a little stiffer, a little more tired, and a little less anxious to go throw my body at someone. Of course, you soon realize that everyone is just as sore, stiff and tired as you are, and, if you've been in this racket long enough, you embrace the hurt, maybe laugh at it a little, crank your engine, and continue to chug along.

My own personal soreness is a little different this time around. I'm not really accustomed to having to figure out the logistical setup that hurts least when pulling my hair into a ponytail. I have been informed that this is a "front row problem," and I will get used to it. The upper-body aches that come with the "front row territory" are new to me. I would say that as a former back, I have a greater appreciation for what goes on in a scrum and with the forwards in general since my enlistment as a hooker, but since I'm a forward and am now in the middle of the scrum, that would be kind-of like congratulating myself. I'm sure that any tight five players who are reading this now are smiling to themselves in a bit of smug satisfaction (maybe there's a little schadenfreude at play) at hearing a former back acknowledge the physicality of and pains involved in their jobs, and I am glad to give them that, because they (we) deserve a lot of appreciation.

Besides the stiffness and general rugby aches, I feel good. Camp feels good. We're getting better at our system and players are becoming more comfortable in their respective roles. Today has been less physically demanding than the first two days, and I think the players are grateful for that, since the first two days were like a triathlon of boxing, a strongman competition, and the running of the bulls (although if a triathlon of that sort existed, I think rugby still may beat it in intensity). Also, we play tomorrow, so it's good to have a bit of lighter day.

Speaking of playing, I am very excited about getting back on the pitch with all that I've learned this week I want to put all of that mental focus and effort to use. This has been one of the most intense WNT camps I've attended, and I'm excited to see how we've progressed over the few days we've been here.

Return to Tigertown

Two years ago, the US Women's National Rugby Team attended a camp in Lakeland, Florida at a place called Tigertown. During our time here, I concocted several fictitious tales describing the founding of Tigertown, how Cecil Fielder may or may not be the mayor, and the possibility of it being a black hole. Those tales, being fictitious but certainly creative and creatively detailed, caused some confusion. Now that we're back in Lakeland, I'd like to clear up the confusion. Tigertown was not founded by some guy named Tigerson, Cecil Fielder is not the mayor, and it is not a black hole, as evident from our escape from it back in 2012. It turns out that it is just a training facility. However, I believe that something more covert, and perhaps a bit nefarious, than training is happening here--something to do with the abundance of styrofoam and the omnipresence of cafeteria workers (one of the ladies appeared in one of our meeting rooms talking about how the air conditioner may freeze up).

Styrofoam and nefarious plots aside, our return to Tigertown has been productive. It's Day 2 and already we have scrimmaged, done fitness testing, had two gym sessions, and have beaten and battered each other in three field sessions. We've also participated in a cognitive testing study, worked on being nutrition ninjas, and reviewed past beatings in film sessions. Seems like a lot when it's written down. Well, I'll tell you, it is a lot. It feels, as it does at most of the WNT camps and events, like we have been here for eons (maybe not eons, but more than two days). These camps and events demand so much physical effort and mental focus that you, the player, feel like you've invested days worth of "real life" effort in a matter of hours. When I say "real life" effort, I mean the effort it takes to get through a typical work/school day during a typical week at home. I don't mean to imply that this isn't "real life."

In the past, these events and camps have seemed so surreal--in the way time passes, the very high concentration of freaks in one location, the access to resources (like a rugby pitch in your back yard, nutritionists, doctors, trainers, awesome managers who do your laundry, etc), the support of people like yourself, the absence of work responsibilities, etc. However, this has become part of my life, and I think in that realization there comes a greater sense of belonging to this clan of freaks, for whom this is also a part of life. And this is one of the great parts of life. It's hard--incredibly hard at times--but like Tom Hanks says, in A League of Their Own, "The hard is what makes it great."

Anyway, enough of my philosophical ramblings. We have another field session and another gym session this afternoon, so it's time to get into rugby mode (I think I need a name for my alter-rugby-ego...suggestions?).