zazblog

Ah, the life of a committed Masters player.
Please contrast with a committed Open
player, who eats, sleeps, and breathes disc
(e.g., the author, circa 1998).

Training: Okay, I do have a team and it does
get together every now and again, but that team
is in Boston and I live in Chicago. So I did
what I did on my own. This meant a variety
of running and sprinting days, but the flavor
was decidedly different from fall of 1998 when
I killed myself working out, imagining how
hard my teammates were pushing themselves.
Nowadays, when I imagine what my teammates
are actually doing... ... ...well, let's just leave
it at that.

Hydration: The family will stay in Vancouver
for five months. We have already been traveling
in Santa Barbara and L.A. I keep waiting for the
time when I won't be worrying about FDIC-backing
on deposits and potential problems
at customs, and insuring stored belongings and
car, and health insurance in Canada etc. I keep waiting
for the time when I will be totally focused on training.
Hah! I did get some good workouts in
Santa Barbara, but much of that was at the
good grace of my wife. Anyway, so I was thinking
at least this day -- Friday before Sunday -- I would
be able to give my body some rest and restoration.
Well, we had to stand on line after line, repacking
and reticketing the seatless child under two.
Amazingly, we get it all done and arrive in Vancouver
and settle into our house in time to order dinner.
All that but basically no hydration. (I take it as given,
of course, that there will be nights, like last night, when
my toddler has FOUR teeth coming in at once.)
Today my legs were lead.

Keeping Injury Free: Suddenly everything gives
me blood blisters. Suddenly, every time I schlep the 55 lbs
bags (yes, we had to repack both at the airport) they
bruise me in my already tender ankles. And on the
flight we manage to get BOTH kids asleep on the
small, cramped, noisy plane when the flight attendant
tells me we have to have BOTH kids on one side (my
side) because that was the side with three oxygen
masks. So I sat there with one on my lap and holding
the other in my hands. I thought for sure they'd be
too sore for pulling. (The children slept; the hands
were fine.)

Muscles and Joints: Back in the day, I'd worry
about pulling my hamstring during sprint training.
Now I worry about joints. (I'm not fast enough to
injure myself trying to sprint!) Why do my ankles
spontaneously hurt. I used to pride myself
on not coming out with an injury unless it was
season-ending, or at least a few weeks. Now,
back in late June I got hit in a tournament (my only
this spring) and didn't come out, and I still wonder
whether my knee will make it through Worlds as
a result.

Best Perspective: Back then, disc was the priority. The
"only"-ity. Now disc is just daddy's selfish lark.
Opening ceremonies, shmopening
shmeremonies. My children couldn't
come -- nap time!