Storm and Stiffness

I couldn't move this morning when I pathetically tried to wiggle out of bed. Last night I went out the the all men's rugby team practice that I was pissing my pants about last week and today I feel like someone tore out all the muscles in my body and inserted stiff elasto-plastic (the blue kind that people work out with while looking kind of silly...).

Practice was wiiiicked. But the coach was kind of giving me this, "And what is this vagina doing on my field???" look and told me there was also a girl's team in Illkirch (which is where the practices are held and is a maddening 45 mins away from my place by tram). Checked that out last night and will be attending a female or "feminine" as they say here, practice on Thursday. Anyway back to the men's practice.

It was actually so much fun. My hands were shaking as I tied up my cleats, but that went away after a few push-ups and sprints. I realized when we started ball handling that there were quite a few beginners in the crowd, which made me feel better until I realized that despite going out jogging three times last week, they were still alot fitter than me (duhr.).

I held my own when they split us up into forwards and backs, but when we started scrimmaging as a whole team again I kind of turned into a little bitch. I would ruck and stuff, but I admit that the idea of tackling one of those guys when they got to full speed took a little more kahunas than I had that night. Good news is that I did indeed touch the ball a few times, and took it into contact - which is why I hobbled home last night, but fear not, french tylenol ("doliprane"), ice stolen from the university restaurant, a cold shower and a night's sleep and my knee still resembled a knee (though a bit blue) this morning.

The coach dubiously explained how the playing system worked (I didn't know until last night that this was actually a competitive team other than the end-of-practice-scrimmages) and though I was super enthusiastic to get myself registered in case he decided to play me, I have since reconsidered the sanity of that idea.

Since the women's team at Illkirch got in touch with me about practice, I think I'll stick with them and just go to the men's monday's for a little extra practice (if they even have practice after the 3rd, I couldn't quite understand how they were going to have both practices and games on the same night... bloody language barrier and my own timidity...).

As you can tell by the length of this post I am practically shaking with glee. It's funny, you never really realise what's important to you until it's within your grasp and might be taken away (my frame of mind as we trecked through fields last week in a vain attempt to find the Graffenstaden).

I know some of you might not like this, but even the idea of having to choose between playing for the women's team or having weekends to travel is a bit of a no brainer. I know its awful that I choose to play rugby rather than take advantage of the traveling I came here for, but playing for a French team is such an opporunity for me. Plus, I mean, I'll still see the countryside on weekends (their playing schedule said one of the away games was in Dijon?!?!), and will still be going on my big trips during school breaks. I honestly can't afford to travel every weekend anyway (or every other weekend for that matter).

The biggest thing for though I guess, is that as much as it sounds horrible (start knocking on wood), I think at the back of my mind I always contend the possibility that someday I could get injured to the point that I might not be able to play anymore. Every season is one season I might not be able to play later. It's not like knitting, something you can always pick up or cast off depending on what your schedule is like, it's like this body of mine will give up on me one day, and when it does, I want to know that I took every opportunity to do what I loved, and I think that will make the loss that much more tolerable. This is all very melodramatic as I know plenty of middle aged ruggers that still give twenty year olds a run for their money... but I also know a handful of twenty year olds that might never play again.The "Storm" part of the title of this blog was because (...though I completely forgot and have now rendered this once integral part of the blog more of a sidenote...) last night I dreamt I was Storm from the X-Men, and it was wiiiicked because I had long flowy white hair and a tight white suit and lightninged the shit out of alot of bad guys... Hahaha anyway that's all folks.
Did I mention I still have an action figure of her when this was still her uniform? (X-Men animated series faithful 'til I die biatch)