Gnarly Gnines '05

I am reposting this from my other site. Think of it not as simple laziness and lack of creative babblings, but rather as atonement for recent neglect. Sharing is caring, after all.

Went down to Burlington, WA for a one-day tournament on April 30th; probably the most grueling tourney of the season. You're only allowed to bring one substitute player for each gender and are scheduled to play nine games to nine points in about nine hours. For those of you not familiar with the sport, this combination equals work. A lot of it. If you think about it solely in terms of duration, it's longer than a marathon... and you're sprinting pretty much the whole time.
Funny thing is, with careful hydration and constant munching on energy foods throughout the day, it is possible to complete the tournament and only feel exhausted at the end of it. I say "only feel exhausted" because a lot of people end up feeling a lot of pain instead - myself included this year.
It was about three-quarters of the way through Game 7 of the day when my left hamstring started to cramp up. I fell over (obviously) and managed to make my way over to the nearest sideline where I tried to stretch it out. Bad idea. The cramp migrated to my left quadricep, which siezed up so tightly that it looked and felt just like my fist. The pain was ridiculous, but with a little Tiger Balm, Gatorade and twenty minutes of focussed breathing it eventually relaxed.
I stood up and immediately fell down again, this time with severe cramps in my left calf muscle. More Balm, Ade and breathing and it too eased up in about fifteen minutes. My teammates (by this point finished with the game) had gathered round and we were all trying to make light of the situation - my system being flooded with endorphins probably helped, too - and I stood up a second time.
And fell down a third time. My right quadricep repeating the performance of the left, only with a little more feeling. It felt as if my patella were about to pop right out of place, there was so much pressure on it. My teammates loaded me up with Gatorade - I'm at about 3 litres by this point - and anything they could find that contained potassium in an effort to get my muscles to loosen up. Finally, mercifully, it too loosened up and I was able to hobble over to the nearest chair. I don't think I've ever experienced such pain for such a prolonged period of time; I have bruises on both quads, for Pete's sake.
Suffice to say, I was done playing for the day, but got to continue the self-abuse when I got home. I stopped at the corner store, bought three bags of ice, went home and filled up the tub. Nothing like an ice bath to finish the day, let me tell you. I almost died in there; and I doubt my testicles will ever forgive me. Still, that last little bit of torture enabled me to walk on Sunday, so I guess you could say it was worth it. The moral of the story is to make sure you are thoroughly hydrated before attempting insane feats of endurance... or don't attempt any insane feats of endurance at all. Take your pick.

Approximately one hour before I broke both my legs 

The Monkey Rides Again

Albeit without his trusted monkey toque. Whilst in the throes of a wine-fuelled night of debauchery, I managed to end up giving it to Holly McNarland. Whoops. Don't fret - I've already contacted the Canadian Monkey Toque Distribution Centre and they've assured me a fresh batch of primate-themed pate coverings will be hitting the shelves in September. If I can manage to keep news of this event (read: 'mishap') from reaching my sister's ears over the summer, I should emerge unscathed.
Still - Holly's wearing my monkey. That's kinda cool. I'll be sure to scour the liner notes of her next release to see if it pops up.

So what in the samhell else has been going on? Oh, you know. The usual: I single-handedly assembled 209 portable Lithium-ion battery packs from scratch, met a girl, worked on a movie set, made the re-cut for my Nationals team, got spurned by the aforementioned girl, applied to the Foreign Service and have had an offer of publication for one of my poems. I been busy. So busy, in fact, that I wonder how I would've found the time to do all these things were I holding down a regular job.
Of course, holding down a regular job would've meant accomplishing many of these very same things without excessive use of my VISA, but I don't want to think about that. And tonight, I don't have to. That's why god invented plastic.

Got distracted by rum and cigarettes. More to come.