Season? Over.
Blog
Instead of being asleep at 00:13 on 30 October 2005, kitt created this:
Our season is finally over. We're the 13th ranked mixed ultimate team in
the country. Seems quite strange to be ranked, to have played at Nationals,
to be considered an elite player.
Strange, but very, very cool.
All the little projects I've been meaning to do I'll finally have time to
do. Part of me is thrilled by the prospect, and the other part is worried
I'm going to fill it with tiny, inconsequential crap that takes up time, but
accomplishes pretty much nothing in the long term.
My first priority is going to be heal. Heal all the nagging injuries that
plagued me this season. The left hamstring always hurting a bit, the right
quad just about tweaked, the popping knees, the loose ankles, the lack of
upper body strength. Working out with G last year and early this year was
the best thing that could have happened to me in terms of physical training.
I know what it takes to be an athlete, the trick is going to be committing
to it.
So, health is at the top of the list. It probably should have always been
there, because from there many, many other benefits arise: more self
confidence, more energy, less pain, fewer blue moments - from the positive
physical health always comes the positive mental health.
Kris had commented to me earlier in this month that I need to be fully
committed to being healthy, which surprised me, as I considered myself to be
a healthy person. He further explained that, yes, when I eat, I eat
healthy, but I'm inconsistent about my eating (yeah, sure, I eat when I'm
both hungry and aware I'm hungry, but I'm not regular about my eating times,
skipping breakfast most of the time, not taking in enough protein to heal
properly and grow muscle, missing various nutrients). And inconsistent
about my workouts, being completely sedentary some days, and incredibly
active the next.
My sleep habits? Really, really bad.
So, coming here to Nationals has definitely inspired me to make that
commitment. Sure, it's strange to be here, but, dammit, I want to come
back.
Our season is finally over. We're the 13th ranked mixed ultimate team in
the country. Seems quite strange to be ranked, to have played at Nationals,
to be considered an elite player.
Strange, but very, very cool.
All the little projects I've been meaning to do I'll finally have time to
do. Part of me is thrilled by the prospect, and the other part is worried
I'm going to fill it with tiny, inconsequential crap that takes up time, but
accomplishes pretty much nothing in the long term.
My first priority is going to be heal. Heal all the nagging injuries that
plagued me this season. The left hamstring always hurting a bit, the right
quad just about tweaked, the popping knees, the loose ankles, the lack of
upper body strength. Working out with G last year and early this year was
the best thing that could have happened to me in terms of physical training.
I know what it takes to be an athlete, the trick is going to be committing
to it.
So, health is at the top of the list. It probably should have always been
there, because from there many, many other benefits arise: more self
confidence, more energy, less pain, fewer blue moments - from the positive
physical health always comes the positive mental health.
Kris had commented to me earlier in this month that I need to be fully
committed to being healthy, which surprised me, as I considered myself to be
a healthy person. He further explained that, yes, when I eat, I eat
healthy, but I'm inconsistent about my eating (yeah, sure, I eat when I'm
both hungry and aware I'm hungry, but I'm not regular about my eating times,
skipping breakfast most of the time, not taking in enough protein to heal
properly and grow muscle, missing various nutrients). And inconsistent
about my workouts, being completely sedentary some days, and incredibly
active the next.
My sleep habits? Really, really bad.
So, coming here to Nationals has definitely inspired me to make that
commitment. Sure, it's strange to be here, but, dammit, I want to come
back.