It's hard.
In any case ...
Wednesday July 11 was a rest and recover day ... stretching and the like.
Thursday was a training night, and so I got my regular sprints in.
Friday I needed my ball and my mats ... but I never got to them, as I was stuck packing for an away trip after the home rugby game... thought about booking a massage for myself ... but then actually looked at my day. In the end ... man, just ran around by my kids for the day.
Saturday .... was a rugby day. I played in the second XV. When I left the pitch we were winning and we lost in a comeback victory. What was I thinking when I took myself off the pitch? Well, we were winning and there were a lot of pther people looking for some game time.
And so ... I subbed myself off. Ah, forgetaboutit.
After the game I was asked to "stand by" for the first XV, and so I did. To no avail. I was left on the sideline to think on my sins. I had a shower at the 78th minute and was home by 5pm. I packed the van and was in cottage country by 8pm. Beer in my hand was awesome, too.
Sunday and Monday were swimming and having fun days at a cottage. Lots of swimming, lots of ducking really large deer flies. And lots of boating, too. Not a lot of pics, though, I'm sorry to report. At least I made it home without being eaten alive. And the stars ... oh, the stars were awesome.
Tuesday was a rugby night ... and I have to come up with a better training plan.
Here's what happened...
After a training session in the 30+ heat, everyone goes in to the showers. Except me, of course. I do my sprints. I do my regular thing were I sprint from the goal line to the 50m line at least 15 times. And ... I get chirped. Some douche bag decides it's ok to shout shit off of the balcony with a pint in his hand at the guy trying to get fitter.
The funny thing is that last year the guy chirping from the balcony was the guy who's now coaching the club.
I'm on a train wreck. I just want to see how it all ends.
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