Back to Rugby

I apologize profusely for not having written in such a long time. I don’t really know where to start actually since it has been so long. I suppose I will just start with the boring basic update so that in future posts I can be more interesting.
I am now back at Dartmouth for rugby preseason. Today is our first day off since we started almost a week ago. I say almost since it really hasn't been a week at all but certainly feels like it. Four or so hours of practice and physical activity a day can do that to you. Since it has been a few days now since I started I have finally gotten rid of the tremendous soreness that kicked in a day after I resumed rugby. Stairs were killer and even sleeping was difficult. I am happy to be back playing though after a whole year without rugby. It is just too bad that I am in no way rugby fit, which is completely different from any other kind of fit. As a forward in rugby (don't stress it if you don't know what a forward is), I am supposed to be able to run, or in my case jog, for about 80 minutes with an occasional break. Occasional break, well now that is nice isn't it? My breaks consist of rucking, scrumming, and doing line outs, which, for the rugby novice, means pushing your shoulder very hard against other people to win possession of the ball or lifting another person into the air to win the ball. Rugby is no walk in the park.
There is no terribly interesting news though on the rugby front except that I am playing again. Although, we did go for a run the other day in Pine Park, which circles the golf course and runs along the Connecticut river for the second half of the trail, and I am proud to say I ran the whole thing. Except when I fell over and twisted my ankle. I walked for a bit after that. But adrenaline was running high so I was able to continue the run. Now, in rugby, or at least in my experience, one tends to sport one's injuries with a certain amount of pride. They are akin to a badge of merit really. For example, if you sprained your ankle tackling some girl right before she was about to score a try, then that injury can be justified. Sadly when people ask me why my ankle is bright purple and the size of a small grapefruit, I must honestly reply that I tripped on a rock and fell down. That isn't hardcore in the least.
Oh dear, I have to go very soon to help set up for our rugby meetings tonight (meetings pretty much consist of singing rugby songs, which are. . . well I can save that for another time). This could be interesting since one of the reasons I quit rugby last year was because I truly hated the whole social dynamic. But I promise to write again soon so that I can show you the last illustrations I have to share and so that I can write a bit about saying good bye to the archive for the summer, which was a truly sad event.
Here are some old pictures of the Dartmouth Women's Rugby Club on tour in Wales a few years ago to give you an idea of what I do. I am not in them since I was taking them.
A scrum:


A line out: