I'm torn.

Do I head off on a short road trip with an old friend and take the opportunity to catch up, or do I stick with all the plans I've already made. Do I drive two days with Paul and spend the weekend with my mom (whom I didn't call this evening because I forgot about the time change and that Arizona moved back into the Mountain time zone grrrrrr...), or do I head off to a 10 year anniversary party, a bring your own crab barbeque and two league games?

Argh. I don't know!

I'm terribly interested in going. The tickets aren't too bad in cost (about $300 total, less if I finagle quickly). I might be able to swing the time off from work by working this coming weekend to take the next weekend off.

And the experience would be really interesting.

It could be a completely eye-opening, mind-tearing, soul-healing experience. Or it could be a complete disaster. Surely nothing in the middle is possible. Of course not, in as much as that man has, in the last six months, managed to trigger more tears from me than even Kris.

I'm not quite sure how he does it, but from a I'm-not-crying-right-now perspective, it's kinda funny. He manages to ask the right leading questions at just the right time to push the right buttons and get me to think of things, thoughts and events I haven't thought about in a long time, or had pushed away until later, and that later became now. Most of the tears have been healing ones: reflection, acceptance, and permission to move beyond the memories, but some of them have also been tears of frustration.

And all of them good, because they've been a release, and have helped me in many ways: to see when I've been spinning in circles instead of moving forward, to gain perspective on the past, and to question what the heck I believe in.

Oh, to go, or not to go?

To look inside, or avoid the internal gaze again?

Our season is finally over. We're the 13th ranked mixed ultimate team in the country. Seems quite strange to be ranked, to have played at Nationals, to be considered an elite player.

Strange, but very, very cool.

All the little projects I've been meaning to do I'll finally have time to do. Part of me is thrilled by the prospect, and the other part is worried I'm going to fill it with tiny, inconsequential crap that takes up time, but accomplishes pretty much nothing in the long term.

My first priority is going to be heal. Heal all the nagging injuries that plagued me this season. The left hamstring always hurting a bit, the right quad just about tweaked, the popping knees, the loose ankles, the lack of upper body strength. Working out with G last year and early this year was the best thing that could have happened to me in terms of physical training. I know what it takes to be an athlete, the trick is going to be committing to it.

So, health is at the top of the list. It probably should have always been there, because from there many, many other benefits arise: more self confidence, more energy, less pain, fewer blue moments - from the positive physical health always comes the positive mental health.

Kris had commented to me earlier in this month that I need to be fully committed to being healthy, which surprised me, as I considered myself to be a healthy person. He further explained that, yes, when I eat, I eat healthy, but I'm inconsistent about my eating (yeah, sure, I eat when I'm both hungry and aware I'm hungry, but I'm not regular about my eating times, skipping breakfast most of the time, not taking in enough protein to heal properly and grow muscle, missing various nutrients). And inconsistent about my workouts, being completely sedentary some days, and incredibly active the next.

My sleep habits? Really, really bad.

So, coming here to Nationals has definitely inspired me to make that commitment. Sure, it's strange to be here, but, dammit, I want to come back.

Well, we're in the game to win the title of "cream of the crap." If nothing else, we have broken seed by at least 1: we're in the 13-14 game today against Donkey Bomb, the team we played yesterday.

We were certainly not playing well yesterday, nor the day before. But we're coming off our decisive win against Gorilla Foot, with a strong, strong wind, so we have a good chance.

Update: We won! We won! In a brilliant comeback, down from a halftime score of 2-8, to take it to 14-14, universe point, pulling down wind. We won 15-14, to move up to 13th place. Yay, cream of the crap!

Well, day two of Nationals, and we are on a roll. We are perfectly consistent, having lost both games, maintaining our O-fer record: 0-5.

I think I can safely say, I remember little of the day. We played Meth first, and, once again, started off well, losing the half 7-8, but only just barely.

And the we started sucking.

And never recovered.

We lost to Meth 15-10. And followed that game up with a 15-8 loss to Donkey Bomb. I think the only thing any of us can say is, "What the?"

Highlights of the day: Kris' parents flew down to visit us, and showed up in the second half of the first game.

I had a brilliant almost D in a zone point. Everyone thought I had the D (myself included) expect the opponent who somehow (how? had to have been magic, because I have absolutely no idea how) caught the disc.

Lisa calling my writing style, "Stacato."

Kris making a brilliant sky on a guy 6" taller than he, then showboating after he threw the score.

Dinner with the in-laws.

Low points of the day: missing the massive team skinny dip into the ocean.

Losing. Again. And again.

Blurting out my mental chatter, loud enough for my opponent to hear.

Missing that close D.

So, the highest we can place is 13th at this point. If we manage that, we'll have broken seed by two.

Here's hoping for two wins.

I don't think we're in Kansas any more.

We went 0-3 for the day, playing the range of really bad ultimate to some of the best ultimate we've ever played, and everything in between. It's hard to watch us fold so completely, knowing just an hour ago we were rockin'.

Our first game was against Drive Thru Liquor, the second place team from the Southwest Region, and the first place team from the Rocky Section (Denver specifically). We came out flat. As in dead. As in, as flat as the cornfields of Kansas.

We went down very quickly 1-6. As if... as if... as if, we had no heart. As we didn't. Just as the score went 1-6, Mark showed up. He had taken the red-eye in, and had just arrived at the fields, as Megan had driven the hour to Tampa and the hour back to bring him to the fields.

And we woke up.

We matched DTL point for point until the end of the game, 10-15. During the game, Kevin went down with an injury. It wasn't a tournament ender, but it was a game stopper. It foretold the next game in an unfortunate way.

Our next game was against Hang Time, the first in our pool, from Texas and Arkansas. HT has been in the finals at least twice in the last five years, though not in the last two. We had our full complement of Smiths: Kevin (all taped up from the previous game's injury), Kyle, Mark, Chucky and Heidi, and we were ready to play.

We went up 2-0, kept it close and tied at 5-5, lost half at 7-8, and brought it back 10-9. We hung with this team. And they were not a pleasant team to play against. At one point, one player fouled Adam, then called him "a fucking jew" when he made the call. The entire field was dumbfounded.

Kevin went out in the middle of the game with an ankle injury. It was devastating to our offense, because, as much as we complain, it's Kevin that opens up the field with his hucks.

We ended up losing the heartbreaker 13-15.

We needed to win our last game in order to be in control of our own destiny tomorrow. If we win, we head into tomorrow 1-0. If we lose, the head into tomorrow 0-1 and even if we win the first two rounds tomorrow, going 2-1, we may still be out of the running for the top 12, based on point differential.

We lost.

We were running with them no problem to 5-5, but lost our momentum. Kris was frustrated and it showed. He didn't want his season to be over today. Maybe Saturday, but not today.

So, three more games tomorrow.