All these thoughts of making a long post instead of lots of short posts have gone completely out the window. Short posts are now going up, too. I just need to figure out how to insert images easily and I'll be all set.

Tyler emailed me today wondering when the Mixed finals would be at the UPA Club Championships this year in October. The event is October 26-29, but, since he has to fly home early on Sunday, he might miss the Mixed finals on Sunday.

Well, here's what we figured out: the order of division play is consistent: the Women's division follows the Mixed division follows the Open division follows the Women's division. Last year, Open played first, followed by Mixed then Women's. The year before, Women's played first, followed by Open, then Mixed.

Therefore, this year, if everything follows as before, Mixed will play first, followed by Women's, then Open.

Now, the weather has been every other year is a brutal wind year. This past year was a just-after-hurricane event. So, if everything follows trends (yeah, yeah, past performance is no guarantee of future returns), this'll be a non-windy year.

Now, that Tyler is thinking about the finals at this point in the season is absolutely fantastic. However, because he's heading home mid-afternoon on Sunday, well, he's cut.

Yay, muscles! Heading to the trainer these last three weeks has meant that all my muscles have gotten bigger (and presumably stronger, but definitely bigger). Movements are easier (still not used to sitting down without the knee twinge, but I haven't felt one recently).

Downside is, nothing fits. My pants, which were nearly fitting two weeks ago, now don't fit at all. And rather than losing weight, <sarcasm>joy of joys</sarcasm>, I've gained weight. I, who have pretty much never worried about my weight, am wondering about my weight. Yeah, yeah, muscle weighs more than fat, I know, I know. Still. I'd like to see some of that fat go away. No Grandma Saddle Bags! No Grandma Saddle Bags!

All these new muscles do me little good if they can't handle the effort of ultimate. Time to start getting some good, long runs in for base fitness. Last week at the tryouts, I was definitely one of the slow women top speed-wise in the sprints. I'm guessing I know how to use what speed I have, since I'm still getting open without the speed of old.

Note to self: if you play ultimate really hard, don't go do a hard leg workout the next day. You won't do so well. Take a day of rest instead.

Heather and I were talking on the drive back from the Mischief City tryouts today. I think I did okay playing-wise, but I definitely feel my lack of aerobic fitness. Based on the sprints we did at the end, I've definitely lost my speed - the depressing part of the afternoon. Skills-wise I was fine - got to watch everyone struggle with the low release throws under a hurdle. I heard someone gasp then I was demonstrating the drill the first time around - made me chuckle.

Heather and I talked about various boyfriends and relationship experiences on the drive back south after dinner. At one point, I asked her why a particular relationship had ended, and she commented she spent the whole relationship expecting him to leave. Unsurprising it ended, it never really began.

The comment made offhand caught me a little off guard.

My parents' divorce when I was 12 set my expectations for relationships pretty low, so I can't say I ever expected a relationship to truly last. Guy certainly taught me a lot about love and adult relationships (the biggest being just because you hit a rough spot doesn't mean you're done), but not until Kris asked me to play to win, and not just play not to lose, that I really figured things out.

But that thought really never left. I often feel like I'm waiting for disaster to strike. Not that I expect bad things to always happen, I'm just surprised that the worst I've had to deal with in the last few years has been an exploding toliet, underwear eating dogs and too much work.

Despite thinking, "Now or never, things aren't going to happen just because I want them to happen. I need to actually put some effort into making it happen." and actually making things happen, I still wonder when the other shoe will fall, when someone is going to show up and say, "Hey, we know that you're faking being an adult," when this "golden time" is going to end and life is going to be hard again.

My body itches.

Not in the hyper-allergy reaction I had 3+ years ago, but rather in the I've-been-working-out-and-am-healing sort of way. Much the same way I know when I'm gaining weight in my legs (my legs physically hurt when I gain weight from inactivity and long freakin' hours of sitting still programming), I know I'm gaining muscle mass from the workouts. I can feel my body adjusting, healing, growing.

And it itches.

I've been going to the trainer for nearly two weeks now. Nothing actually shows. My clothes all fit the same, I don't have any new muscle to speak of. I'm pretty much the only person who can notice the difference.

I've had three trainers so far: Michele (one L), Christina, and Eric (no idea if those are spelled correctly, other than Michele's). Michele and Christina are the late afternoon people, Eric is the morning trainer, with another guy. I'm close to finding the sweet morning spot where it's not rushed or full, when I can sleep in a bit, but still get a good number of work hours in. So far, I like Eric best, as he seems to get ultimate (having played in college). I'm still worried a bit about the training not being ultimate-specific enough, but I know I need a good strength base, so I'm willing to go with the current training without (m)any complaints.

Despite being told that professional athletes come in for training at the facility, so far I've seen only really out of shape "older" people and high school or college softball players. I haven't seen much in between. I suspect I fall into the "older" category, but not quite. Most of the people that I've seen have serious bellies and guts. I may have a Bundy-pooch, but I don't have a gut.

I, admittedly, don't understand the motivation of many of these other clients. Thursday morning I went in for my session and was a bit disappointed with myself when I realized I was only five minutes early: the longest I would use the elliptic trainer would be 30 minutes because I'm called off the machine at 25 minutes into the session. Twenty minutes later, the other guy (two people work out with the same trainer at a time) came in, looked for his headphones, adjusted the television, then hopped on the elliptical trainer next to me. I don't go particularly fast on those things, the movement doesn't quite work well for me, and my toes go numb after about 10 minutes, but this guy was even worse than I.

Just as this guy got up to speed, it was time for crunches. I thought to myself, "Why is this guy paying this company $100 an hour for a trainer if shows up 20 minutes late?" But he's not the exception from what I can see, he's the norm. Over half the people I've watched will come in late, talk to the trainers, saunter upstairs and aerobically workout half-ass until it's weight time. Why spend all the money if it's just social hour with pulleys?

I had to tell Eric, too, that a normal response when I get frustrated is to tear-up, and that he should just ignore it. I'm not in pain, and I don't want to stop, I just want weights I can do. He promised not to put "Crybaby" in my chart.

Several times when working out with Michele, she asked me if I hated her, mostly because she was pushing me, making me work harder. I told her, "I know the end result. I'm not going to hate you for getting me there." She was surprised. I guess most people come in late, skip half the workout, then complain when they get sore. I want to be strong. I like that sore feeling. The itching may be "not so much," but the strength, yes.

I want to be playing ultimate another 10 years.

I guess the worst part for me is realizing that 10 years ago, I used to be like all those people whom I don't understand now. Track in high school was brutal. I didn't want to do any of the workouts, I was there because it was sports or a job. I wasn't there for me, I was there for someone else. I like that now it's for me. I want to be better, faster, stronger. I really wish I had learned the lesson much younger.