Bed-buddies Reunite!

This weekend I will have the pleasure of playing with the Mighty Rucks in the NY 7s tournament, though I'm not sure how pleasurable the sub-freezing NY weather will be. "Who are the Mighty Rucks?" you ask. That's like asking, "Who are the Jungle Hugs?" Yeah, you may not know who they are either but that's what it's like. Both are sports teams, well known in their local niche, that do big things--that win stuff. So if you don't know...

Anyway, the big story isn't the rugby, although we will be competing in the premier division, which means we have the chance to rail some Canadian and Australian chicks, which is exciting. The big story is that I will be reunited with my MARFU bed-buddy, Eli! And Grover. This can only mean good things, so Canadian and Australian chicks beware. 

Traded...Go Stars!

The Uncle Sam sorting hat traded me today to the Stars team. I’m not going to fib or put on airs, I was a bit disappointed at first…at first. This week, I’ve formed some bonds with my Stripes teammates, and it was a little blow to my emotional self to have to switch teams. However, in the grand scheme of USA Rugby, we are all teammates, and it didn’t take long for my emotional self to embrace the change. Actually, I like that I will get to play with the Stars. I’ll get to see how well I play with some other players and hopefully help the Stars avenge the last two games. Wouldn’t it be awesome to be one of like three players (two others were traded as well) to go 3-0 for the week?

On another note, today was a chill sort of day. We only practiced once and so had a lot of down time. The Stripes took that time to have a water balloon fight, while the Stars had a Rock, Paper, Scissors tournament. I lost in the second round to the Kug, who finished second behind Poker-Face-Megan Bonny (another Stripes transfer), who said of her victory, “I wasn’t trying to win.” Megan and I also wiped the floor with my VA buddy, Erica, and Penn State’s scrumhalf, Elena, in pool. In two games, I don’t think they made enough shots to win a single game.

The day is winding down now. I’m still on the Stripes side of the dorm and they’re preparing for the match by watching Top Gun and Dirty Dancing (side note: Nugget and I did the Dirty Dancing lift earlier this morning). Nobody puts Baby in the corner.

Wait...What Day Is It...

Day 5…6…er something…is nearing a close. What day is it anyway? Thursday? I’m in a Rugby Time Warp right now. It feels like we’ve been at camp for weeks now. Days bleed into days and time is measured in weigh ins, feedings, sessions, meetings, ice baths. I’ve taken my heart rate five times now, weighed in 14, had three ice baths, and have consumed enough calories for two or three people (depending on their size and disposition toward doughnuts). I hope this is what heaven is like…or hell (depending on the final destination of my hand basket).

I felt a little beat up today, which of course is inevitable after a match day. It’s a good feeling…or a horrible feeling, depending on your level of masochism. I think rugby players are all masochists to some extent and so relish in post-match pain, and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. A seed must break its shell before a plant can grow.

Philosophical ramblings aside, the second match was a physical one. One that left me physically exhausted—I’m talking fatigue-delirium. I enjoyed every minute of it. I felt that I played one of the most active games I’ve ever played, and my teammates voted me forward of the game. That is an honor, not because it represents a personal triumph (we play for ourselves, of course, because we love the game and the person the game makes us), but because we play for our teammates. When we’re on the pitch we are committed to 14 other people. We strive and push ourselves to our breaking points for those people, and to have those people appreciate my effort has made my time here worth it, regardless of win-loss records, regardless of selections.

On a less serious note, a few things that have helped me prepare for the intense rugby here at camp have been the quotes on my Celestial Seasonings teas (the one I got before our match was, “On with the dance, let joy be unconfined,” and I kept thinking throughout play, “Let’s dance, baby.”), our strength and conditioning guy, Paul, saying that his goal was to help us be athletic and happy (what could be more simple and more awesome than being athletic and happy), and the sloth slaps I’ve been getting from Kmiecik (you don’t need to know what that is, just know that it helps).

That’s all for now. Check back in tomorrow for more of my insights (if you want to call them that) and updates.

Snakes and Sorcerers

We’ve been at camp for a couple of days now and there has been no sign of the Masonic band members as of yet (for those who don’t get this reference, there was a Masonic band camp here at UNCo last year). This means that we’re the only kids in the cafeteria. It also means no awesome American flag button up shirts and no sacrificial chicken jokes. Eh, we’re still having fun.

We had our first scrimmage yesterday, and the Stripes (that’s the team I’m on) won. No offense to the Stars, but the Stripes also win in the Lounge Decorating Contest. I mean we have streamers and a frog throwing dart board area…and mother fu**ing snakes. Actually, we don’t have real snakes (that little blog outburst stemmed from a lively game of Cards Against Humanity), but we do have one long rubber worm-looking thing with tentacles.

Thus far, I think I’ve had more fun at this camp than any other I’ve been to. Granted, I have only been to a handful of National Team camps, but this one has trumped the others, so far, for me. I think it’s partly due to the fact that it mimics a tour—we’re playing and preparing to play instead of doing drills and skills sessions all day. Now, there’s nothing wrong with drills and skills, but we do that stuff to prepare us for the good stuff, for the matches, and that’s what this camp is all about. I feel my level of enjoyment is also a product of my attitude going into this camp. I feel a lot more confident and less nervous—more like I belong and less like I’m feeling around in the dark to find my place. I feel like a mother fu**ing sorcerer (yes, another reference to Cards Against Humanity). 

That’s all I have for now. Day three is in the books, and I’m ready to do some tactical breathing and fall gently off to dreamland.

A Few Thoughts on Time at the Top 60 Camp

I feel like I haven’t blogged in a million years. There have been matches, tournaments, rugby news, and random happenings between my last blog and now, and I’ve just not blogged about any of it. I’ve told myself that I haven’t had time, and that’s not quite the truth. The whole truth is that I haven’t made it a priority. It’s not that I haven’t had time—I have—or I haven’t made the time—you can’t make time. It’s that I haven’t utilized the time I have to do it.

I’m addressing all of this, because I’m at the Women’s National Team’s top 60 camp at the moment, and for the past three months or so, I’ve been utilizing my time for rugby training. I have been going balls to the wall—two-a-days, three-a-days, no rest for the weary type of shit (CT Fletcher: “You worried about overtraining?...You worried about working, mother fu**er”). I feel great—awesome—and I’ve found that time isn’t a tough thing to work with if you know what you want. Now, I’m utilizing my down time here at camp to blog a bit. And the thing is, if you really think about it, there’s always time for the things you want—the things that are going to make life harder if they didn’t exist in your daily existence.

Ok, now that I’ve gotten all inspirational speaker on you, I’ll just say one more thing and I’m out. I’m so excited to be around my fellow freaks again, and I can’t wait to bash some heads!!

Sprained Ankle? Get Rollerblades

I’m a few weeks overdue in posting this blog. I started writing it a day or so after our last ETC (of course, it deals with the last ETC), but never finished, so now I will commit to finishing it.

Besides the weather, our March ETC was excellent (I would probably give it 8.23 out of 10). Generally, I prefer heat to cold (cool and warm are my favorites), but I don’t have a big problem with the cold. In this case—the case in which it is so cold that the ground is frozen and falling on it hurts—however, my knees had a problem with it. More specifically, they had a problem with hitting the frozen ground. They still have not recovered.

Weather aside (now I feel like one of those old guys sitting around the general store, drinking coffee, and figuring on the chance of rain for the evening), camp was awesome. Of course, there was tons of rugby, which is the point, but we also got to hang out in the gym for a while doing testing. Have I ever mentioned that I love the gym. The gym and I have had a long and thriving relationship—the healthiest relationship I’ve ever had (pun intended).

One of the highlights of camp, for me, was a déjà vu moment I experienced when Jenna and I collided and the world exploded. This happened once before—the first time we played against each other—and it was a surprise for us both. Kind of a “what the ---, that hurt a little” moment. Besides being part brick wall, part kung fu sneaky, Jenna also has the power to think outside of the outside of the box. She pointed out, in the gym, that if Carmen would just spread her legs wider—sumo wide—then she would have about the same distance to squat as the rest of us. And she suggested to Pete that he get rollerblades for his sprained ankle—the high ankle support and the fact that he would be on wheels as benefits.

I have enjoyed these last couple of ETCs a lot. It’s always great to be around my fellow freaks and play good rugby. I’ve also missed my MARFU teammates. Looking forward to the April ETC, and perhaps we can develop our first Bagel Pig and Catbird cartoon (how does the song go?). 

Back At River

My first weekend back with James River was a sweet, sweet reunion—could hear the angels singing “Halleluiah.” First, I got to start at inside center. Loved it. I got to play with some new players, who are really talented, and some old faces (SJ, Ro, Amy, Tammy = oldies but goodies). We tied Raleigh, a very talented squad, who won the National Championship a couple of years ago…and a couple of years before that, and so on. I got to hit (and get run over) by Jamie Burke. We had a post-match celebration at a roller derby match. And then I got to do some Gladiator training on Sunday.

I can’t tell you how much I had missed the gals at James River. Playing with them again cleansed my soul (maybe it wasn’t that dramatic, but it certainly helped me to release some stress). The playing—the actual rugby—was great, and so was hanging with good friends. And probably the most awesome part was when a couple of Raleigh girls came up to me afterward and told me how they appreciated my positivity on the field. That’s something I’ve really been working on (on the pitch and in life), and so I got a surge of good vibes knowing that the work is paying dividends.

Following the match, we hung out with Raleigh at the social, and I got to chat with my old MARFU buddy, Six-One/Smashley/Ashley. It was good to catch up, and it was great to hang out with rugby people. Roller derby and a shoulder workout came next. Being the considerate sweetheart I am, I offered to carry a table to the match, so that we could recruit potential ruggers.

Though I may be considerate, I also tend to be a bit of a show-off, and so I decided to carry the weighty and awkward table over my head. Not being one to give-up (call it perseverance or stubbornness), I kept the difficult thing above my head. After making our way through the labyrinth of the Richmond Convention center, down a long corridor, around a bend and through another hallway, we arrived at the match just as my shoulders were screaming at me to drop the effin table.

I have to say, roller derby is quite the sport. I pride myself in delivering big hits on the rugby pitch, but if I had to do it on wheels, I don’t think I would be that successful. I prefer my feet to wheels, blades, boards, or anything else that requires added balance for ambulation. The derby gals, on the other hand, did quite well wheeling around while smashing each other. I particularly enjoyed watching a Richmond player (would we call them players? rollers?) called “Bouncy” barreling through others. All in all my first roller derby experience was a good one, and derby is definitely something I could find myself watching again.

With a Saturday full of awesomeness under my belt, I woke up on Sunday morning ready for more action, and I got that at Gladiator training. I even talked another River rugger, Gray, to come with my weekend roomie, Mahaffey, and I to train in the rain. There’s no better way to start a Sunday than to throw chains around…well, unless you can throw chains around and then go and have a breakfast of champions—pig and coffee—which I did with Mahaffey and her Ma Dukes.

Well, I think that about sums up my amazing weekend back in Richmond. I can’t wait for more. This is shaping up to be a pretty darn good spring.

Busy Rugby Weekend (Penn State ETC)

Last weekend was a busy one, full of rugby and rugby related “stuff,” and we were done by Sunday. With our field access limited to indoor turf fields, which we shared with other teams at Penn State, we had to fit our schedule into a small, narrow window. This meant two late nights and one early morning.

I left work early on Friday, around 11:45am, and drove to Maryland, where I met a couple of old MARFU teammates (Go FU!). With Eli piloting us to Pennsylvania, she and I listened as Primo regaled us with stories about the limits of GPS is rural North Carolina and chicken factories.

We arrived at Penn State, after inching through traffic for a while, around 8pm. At 8:30 we had our “Welcome Meeting,” and at 9pm, we were on the field, doing our 70m fitness testing. Testing was our warm-up to a field session, which lasted until around 11:30pm. Some of the ladies, returned to their hotel rooms to wind down for the night, while a few of us crashed at some of the Penn State ruggers’ house. We were fortunate enough to have a gracious host in Elena, and Erica and I got her bunk bed.

After a short night’s sleep, alarms began their buzzing around 7am, followed by some wheezing and coughing, brought on by sucking the dry wind in the indoor facility during the 70m fitness test, the night before. The beep test was the first thing on the morning agenda, and then we had a field session and a lunch break.

The afternoon was full of classroom sessions on strength training, nutrition, and mindset. Then we did our squat testing and went over proper form for other lifts, which I appreciated greatly. I’m a stickler on form (unless I’m doing a cheat rep or two). If I see you in a gym and you have a great deal of weight loaded on a bar, in your hand in the form of a dumbbell, set on a machine, or otherwise incorporated in your exercise, and you are not performing the exercise in it’s intended range of motion or are using other muscles that aren’t generally recruited in that exercise, you will make my “Drop Kick” list.

I’ve digressed. After our dinner break, during which some of us watched the end of “The Color Purple” (“I think it piss God off, when you walk past the color purple and don’t notice it”), we had more classroom sessions, a video session, our final fitness test, the standing broad jump, and our final field session. On a side note, I will be jumping 8 ½ feet in a couple of months (mark it). That final session took us to 11pm, after which Eli, Primo and I promptly hit the road (guys, if you’re reading, I owe you two a long portion of driving, since my useless ass slept 75% of the drive back). We made it back to Maryland around 3am, where I face planted into bed.  

And thus ended the rugby. We fit all of that rugby into a day and three hours. It was exhaustingly awesome, however I’m looking forward to a schedule that’s a bit more spread out.