Sunday, May 29, 2016

Hugby!

I have always valued my personal space and have never been much of a hugger.  Every now and again I would grit my teeth and suffer through an occasional hug when socially necessary.  A simple high five has been my go to form of acknowledgment for many years. 

When I started playing rugby I quickly learned that a personal connection with your team is a significant part of the culture and the game.  I observed that hugging is a big part of this.  For the first 6 months that I played rugby I weaseled my way out of many hugging interactions and was ‘forced’ into others.  My teammates began to catch on to my disinterest in hugs, but over time I have grown to appreciate and understand the importance of them.  I have since made a list, so that future ruggers can be prepared for all the appropriate times to hug your teammate.

Appropriate times for Ruggers to Hug:

·       When you are saying “Hello”

·       When you are saying “Goodbye”

·       If a teammate is sad

·       If a teammate is happy

·       When you do something well

·       When you do something not so well

·       If a teammate is injured or sick

·       If your teammate is healthy

·       When you haven’t seen each other in awhile

·       If you saw each other yesterday

·       If you just think a hug is needed

·       When you don’t think a hug is needed

·       After surviving a terrible workout together

·       To celebrate victory

·       To mourn defeat

·       Any other situation not listed above

I have learned that a hug is appropriate in any situation and is a small piece of showing your teammates you love and support them.  I am sure when I am done with rugby the connection with my team will be something that I miss.  I am thankful they have ‘taught’ me the importance of a simple hug and how it can positively effect a person’s day.    

Sunday, May 15, 2016

I came across this blog post recently and can very much relate.  I have learned to appreciate the silence and am grateful that rugby has given me the opportunity to cherish the last moments I have as an athlete!   

Without The Game by: Lexi Panepinto

For every senior collegiate athlete whose season is about to end or has already ended, this one's for you.

Silence is usually described as a feeling of stillness; a state of peace, a split-second of quiet, a season of serenity. It’s harmonious and soothing and usually portrayed by unruffled waters or someone sitting in tranquility. This is what silence looks and feels like to a lot of us most of the time. We long for a moment of silence in this loud and crazy world. We crave it and when it finally comes, we close our eyes and hang on tight to it, for it is ever-fleeting.

But, what if this isn’t what silence always looks like? What if there was a silence that hung around for a little while? A silence that is deafening, unwanted, and conflicted. A silence that looks more like someone struggling to stay afloat in rough waters rather than someone sitting peacefully near unruffled ones. What if silence looked like this instead? What if silence felt like this instead? What if I told you that this type of silence actually exists? Would you believe me?
Almost all elite-level athletes—college, semi-pro, or pro—experience this kind of silence. There comes a time, whether due to injury, retirement, or ineligibility, where the silence sets in. No more cheers of the crowd chanting. No more recognition for record-breaking performances.

No more noise, clamor, or commotion. Just silence -- echoes of what used to be.

Some might say that this is too drastic and dramatic; that sports are just a silly game us athletes play and that we need to get over it. But what those people might not understand is that losing the game is like losing a part of ourselves. We’ve spent most of our lives dedicated to our sport—years preparing, conditioning, competing. We’ve not only invested ourselves physically, but mentally and emotionally as well -- becoming consumed with the wins and losses, the highs and lows. It defines us in a way. Gives us purpose. Gives us an identity. It becomes our world and we become wrapped up in it. So that is why, when it’s all said and done, when the final buzzer buzzes and the last whistle blows, it’s a big loss -- probably the biggest loss in all of our athletic careers.  At this moment, we’re left to undergo some serious life re-evaluation; left asking who are we? What do we do now?

As the collegiate fall season nears an end, the first wave of senior student-athletes begins to face these questions. Less than 2 percent of collegiate athletes will go on to play pro, leaving 98 percent subject to the silence soon. Sure, there are adult leagues and beer leagues we can go on to join, but it won’t be anything like the game we played in high school or college. We’re competitors; we love the thrill of a rivalry, the pressure of a playoff game, the grind of going to practice every day, the feeling of being victorious, the locker room celebrations, the long bus rides. We live for that. And while recreational sports may still have all of that, it won’t ever have quite the same feel as it once did.

This transition is something that we rarely talk about. But, I say, if every athlete is bound to go through it at some point, why not bring it to the forefront and acknowledge it? Through sports, we have been  lucky enough to create more friendships and memories than most people dream of. We have grown as people and learned more lessons from athletics than school could ever teach us. So, when that moment comes, when the clock strikes 0:00, and it’s all said and done, while inevitable sadness will strike, I’d like to offer a little bit of advice.

Take it all in. Take a look into the stands to see your family and friends who have been there to support you every step of the way – remember to be thankful. Take a look at your teammates to the left and to the right of you, and think about how these people, who have become your family, have shaped your life – remember to never let these relationships go. Take a look at playing stage, whatever it may be, one last time and replay all of the great victories and celebrations – remember to cherish those feelings of triumph. Take time to reflect on all the years you’ve played – remember to never take those years and opportunities for granted.

Finally, no matter how deafening it may be, take the time to listen to the silence, because while our sport has certainly molded us and inarguably impacted our lives, it is in no way definitive of who we are. Remember that, and more importantly, believe that. Believe that you are just as important and just as valuable to the world as you were when you played your sport. Because if there's one thing I know for sure it's that being a good person is what truly matters in this life. Who you are without the game is what matters and how good of a person you are doesn't change just because your playing days are over.

The silence will only begin to fade, once you believe that.

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/without-the-game
 

Sunday, May 1, 2016

It was quite and honor to compete for Team USA once again!  I truly enjoyed having my name on the back of my jersey and my country on the front.  It is an accomplishment that I am very proud of and something I never thought I would do again.  I competed 8 years for USA bobsled and realized that I never had my name on my uniform, so this experience was very special.