Thursday, April 24, 2014
Random Ramblings - Part 4
I was sitting here thinking about all the random things about France that I haven't yet mentioned here. Things that I'm a little worried about in terms of re-adjusting to American life. Things that I've gotten used to that I might need to warn Sarah and Meghan about before they get here (TWO DAYS!!!!). So, here is my final list of random ramblings about my frenchified life:
Photo Essay - Spring Sprung
This time of year bees, butterflies, (chocking hazards on the bike - haha!) and beetles are buzzing around everywhere to announce the arrival of Spring. These two cities (Tours and Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire) are in full bloom right now. This photo essay represents the best I could do at capturing this seasonal beauty. The pictures come from my backyard, the flower market, and random walks and rides around town. Highlights include poppies growing out of stony roadside walls, a sunset behind the gym, and a twenty foot guard dog. Haha - Enjoy!
Sunday, April 20, 2014
Scrappy Scrap Scrapperson
Today, we beat the fourth seed in our league in a five-set nail-biter (21:25, 25:21, 24:26, 25:18, 15:12). The fans were totally awesome. It was an exciting match and a great way to finish off our season at home. This was an especially momentous game for my team because we hadn't won a five-setter yet this season.
This game was also very rewarding for me personally because I was finally picking up defensive balls that (before this season) used to fall inches away from my fingertips (and then torment me for a week!). Maguy has been working hard with me in practice to rewire my digging and diving (sometimes I would dive too soon, sometimes too late, and sometimes not at all - and almost always with the wrong arm). I know, I know - my poor coach, right?!?! Anyway, she somehow managed to connect a few circuits that enabled me to shine on defense tonight. Though this match wasn't my best, it was very cool to see marked improvement in my ability to dig. It felt so great to be on the floor scrapping together a play with my team. And, of course, it was totally worth it for the WIN! Yay.
This game was also very rewarding for me personally because I was finally picking up defensive balls that (before this season) used to fall inches away from my fingertips (and then torment me for a week!). Maguy has been working hard with me in practice to rewire my digging and diving (sometimes I would dive too soon, sometimes too late, and sometimes not at all - and almost always with the wrong arm). I know, I know - my poor coach, right?!?! Anyway, she somehow managed to connect a few circuits that enabled me to shine on defense tonight. Though this match wasn't my best, it was very cool to see marked improvement in my ability to dig. It felt so great to be on the floor scrapping together a play with my team. And, of course, it was totally worth it for the WIN! Yay.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Just Another Day in Paradise
Tonight we ventured to Paris to steal a tough four-set win (25-20, 19-25, 16-25, 21-25) against a formidable rival. It felt so great to get a W!
I also finally found my name on USAVB dot com. It doesn't really matter, but for some reason it feels super good just to see my name on the same list as some of the greatest female volleyball players in the world right now (Logan Tom, Nicole Davis, Alisha Glass - just to name a few)!
That's all for now. More later!
That's all for now. More later!
Tuesday, March 18, 2014
Flying Dream
I soared over a cobble-stone swirl of city streets at the base of a dark green forested mountain range. The sky was gloomy and gray, but I was looking down through low clouds over the town to choose where I would touch down. I zoomed in onto the town square where a woman wore her dark hair down. Her hair was parted down the middle and dangling in thin layers over swoops of cotton clothing. A mother sat nearby watching her daughter dart about the wicker cafe seats.
***
I promised a former student-athlete of mine that I would blog as soon as I started flying in my dreams. Normally it means that I'm in a really good place in my life. :)
Thursday, March 13, 2014
On Overcoming Obstacles
Scars are cool. When you're a volleyball player, bruises, floor burns, and contusions on your knees become kind of like badges of honor. Every scar has a story. Well, the scars on my knees are kind of a long story...
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
I was a climb-two-stairs-at-a-time kind of kid. At 6, I was the girl organizing a bracket for foot races with all the boys on the playground. Athletically, I was never extraordinary, but ever since I can remember I've always *wanted* to be the fastest, jump the highest, and be the best. That desire drove me to make the jump to a big, public high school volleyball team after playing two years for Victory Christian (a small private junior high in Fair Oaks, CA). Freshman year I was most-improved. Sophomore year I was most-inspirational. By my Senior year I was captain on Varsity. I've loved the game ever since.
Flash forward to college - In 2004, at our last home match against cross-town rival Holy Names (during my fourth and final season playing at Mills College in Oakland, CA), I blocked a ball and landed on a hyperextended right knee, causing my anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) to snap and roll up like blinds.
That December, I elected to undergo ACL surgery. I awoke from sedation with my sister Sarah and my mom by my bedside. The searing pain in my knee caused involuntary tears to pour from the corners of my eyes and down my cheeks and soak my hospital gown. For fear of this pain returning, I finished all the prescribed meds (which left me useless and drooling on my parents couch for two weeks). Haha... This half-baked state was perfect for appreciating my parents' two thousand cable channels (mostly TCM and the food channel). My mind was a perfect *mush* when I went back to Mills on crutches to finish my Senior spring. But I was prancing around in high heels by graduation day and, the following August, after 8 months of physical therapy, I was back at Mills getting taped up for the Alumni match.
I continued to play, and in 2007, in a qualifying match at an outdoor grass tournament in Detroit, IL, it happened again, but this time to my left knee! After planting a kill cross-court on the three meter line, a crack sounded out that sent shivers down my spine. I knew instantly it was another ACL tear. This meant another surgery and another year of rest, ice, compression, and elevation (ie, no running, no jumping, no climbing two stairs at a time, and, worst of all... no volleyball!).
Six months later... After my second elective surgery, I stopped the meds after the first day. Falling asleep without pain-killers that night was a little like jumping off a cliff, but I woke up basically pain-free the next morning. It sounds crazy, but being awake and aware and not all drugged up helped me meditate on my body's natural ability to heal. I put some of the tools my college coach, Marla Mundis, had taught me to good use. As I dredged through 6 more months of rehab, I visualized my recovery. This may sound a little ridiculous, but I imagined a mini-construction crew going up and down the inner workings of my knee joint on scaffolding, soldering and smoothing over all the rough surfaces. Being off the meds also gave me the presence of mind to focus on the challenge at hand... REHAB. Once again, I re-learned how to stand, walk, run, tip toe, kneel, climb, jump, land, cycle, swim, and play.
Over the long run - being hurt was an obstacle that created so many positive outcomes in my life. I became closer to my parents and Billy (who I relied on incessantly during this time). My goal of maintaining healthy knees drove me into the yoga studio. I started coaching to stay involved in the sport. Ten years later, I'm still using my knowledge of ACL injuries to teach proper mechanics in the next generation of volleyball players: how to jump and land and quickly change direction *safely* and how to improve leg strength in ways that will support the whole body. The rehab made me completely unafraid of square one. Today I am fully recovered... And now, I would venture to say that *my wounds healed me*.
The original injuries were scary. They made me feel broken and (albeit temporarily) strangely robbed me of my femininity. Being hurt changed the way I moved through the world and the way I saw myself. However, the surgeries were even more scary. Afterwards, I felt physically, financially, and spiritually crippled. Violated and maimed. And then, of course, this was abruptly followed by the demanding uphill road of rehabilitation, which required time, planning, and - most of all - conviction. After my second ACL surgery, it took me a good five years to get back where I was (that is, back to taking stairs two at a time).
Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever stop taking two stairs at a time, but I know that if I do, I will do so knowing that my strength doesn't come from knees. My true strength as a human being comes from a deep hidden place within me that I discovered thanks to my knees. :)
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
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