Sunday morning.

Still not enough sleep.

Still tired. Still sore.

We have the long road to the game to go, but not an impossible one. Our first game today is against Psychic Friends Network, whom we've played before at Cramp-Up in Ashland. We played them with our B roster, and had indeed lost to them.

After PFN, we'll have to play three from the set of Red Fish, Blue Fish, Persuader, Whoreshack, Beer Run, Wagon, and Flycoons.

And win each of them.

We lost our last two games today. The third game of the day was our first loss. The team played scared, so I'm actually unsurprised we lost. Disappointed, sure. Surprised, no.

But the fourth game we had the potential to win. We started off flat footed, going down 2-8 at the half.

At which point, the whole WTF thing happened, and we started playing like the team we know we can be.

We brought the score back to 11-12, game to 13, time cap on.

We lost.

It was a crazy ride. One I'm happy to have taken, I just wish the end took the right track at the switch, instead of the left switch.

Morning of Regionals (full name: The Ultimate Player's Association Club Championships Series Mixed Division Northwest Regional Tournament), and my stomach is a fit of knots. I'm not prepared at all, and I hate to go to just about anything unprepared. Maybe a surprise birthday party, but the only one of those I've ever had wasn't exactly a surprise (I clued in a bit before the actual surprise when no one would go first in the apartment - it was a good try though).

If I had prepared properly for this tournament, I would thrown at least 200 throws a day for the last six weeks. I would have gone for three mile runs twice a week, sprint drills twice a week, plyometrics twice a week, practice twice a week, weight lifting three time a week, stretching every day, and abs every day but game days.

Didn't happen.

I think I would have been happy with just the running part of it all.

Sigh.

Here's what I'm keeping in mind, though, in spite of my stomach, my nerves, and my certainty:

No one, and I mean no one, goes into an athletic performance at 100%. No one.

There is always something. The top professional athletes have injuries, major and minor, but as paid entertainers, they have support to minimize the effects of the injuries.

The same is true for the weekend warrior, minus the full support crew, and the players today. Each and every one of them is not at 100%. Each and every one of them has some issue that will adversely affect her athletic performance today.

Even if everything is in place and rockin' physically, the mental game is another matter entirely, and the perfect place for exploitation on the field.

My opponent has no idea of my weaknesses, and I have no intention of showing them to her. One strong play, and I'll be in her head.

Nothing will stop me from being open all. day. long.

Time to declare.

Morning of Regionals. Too many last minute errands. Not enough sleep.

Game on.

"You know, people are going to read my blog and think the only thing we do is sit around and fart at each other."

"I know!"