So Much for Fairy Tales...

We bombed the Santa Barbara Invite. 1-6 with losses to UCSD (badly...), Cal State Long Beach, and San Diego State. It sucked.

But we're back to practicing, and we'll see how Vegas goes.

I hate injuries and weaknesses. I couldn't play in the scrimmage against Williams last night because my right quad is strained from overuse. Fuck. That.

Taking Over

You-know-who has decided he will probably do you-know-what. I sent the cheque for the Santa Barbara Invite, and called Cultimate about getting us into Trouble in Vegas, which should work out. I'm still hittin the gym and running stairs with Sam. We're in for a rough season. We have a lot of injuries, and nebulous leadership.

I told Sam I thought we had a 90% chance of having a building season, and a 10% chance of it being epic.

The Bottom Line

I almost didn't lift today...but then I did.

The Grind

I ran again with Sam today. Stairs at Greenlake. The cold kills the lungs. It's a lose-lose situation though, because if you try to suck warm air by pulling up the neckline of your shirt, to thaw your screaming lungs, you get a stitch from breathing too much carbon dioxide. It sucks, trust me.

But we ran 20 of those bitches, up from the 16 we did on Friday. It feels good afterwards, and I know it's excellent for me. It's a great, efficient way to get into muscular as well as cardio shape.

The New Year

Things are progressing. I feel a little stronger, a little bigger. Finals and holidays made for a couple of tough weeks, but I'm back into it. I really like the workout spreadsheet because it makes me keep track of my workouts, and holds me accountable to myself as well as the team. That said, it's interesting who works out and who doesn't. Tyler is making the A team because he puts in the effort. Rudee also works out, which I didn't expect. CGU Mike is certainly making a good case. Logan puts in some work. Rook is impressing me. Markham hasn't done shit seriously, and Reed and Carl either haven't done anything, or haven't marked it down. I unfortunately suspect the former.

I really feel like a lot of it is my fault. Yeah, it's on them, but it's also on me to set the example and make people want to work. I'm scrawny, so it's tough for me to tell people to lift. I'm not that fast, so it's tough for me to tell them to sprint. I've got to step it up and bust my ass so that they will do the same.

Yesterday my dad said that I had the frame, and that if I could put on 20 more pounds of muscle, I'd "be a fuckin' monster." He's my dad, yeah, but I think he's right. Clearly 20 pounds is a lot, but hey, my brother put that on since the summer. I've just got to get serious. I always say that, but this time it's for real.

It's a new year...clean slate.