Fighting the Blerch

The last of all the Regionals tournaments happened almost two weeks ago, marking the end of another club season for all but 48 teams across the country. This year is the first time I haven’t participated in the Club Series since 2007 and the first time I haven’t organized and captained a team since 2010. By the end of last season, I was mentally and physically ready for a break.

At first it was easy to get used to being “retired.” I could relish in the indulgence of sleeping past 8am on weekends. I was free from planning and attending tryouts. I didn’t have to spend large amounts of energy cajoling good players to play on my team while dreading the unpleasant task of making cuts.

I didn’t miss the nauseating weekly track workouts in swampy DC heat or going to work the morning after a tournament feeling like I had been hit by a bus. I could plan to do something other than play Ultimate on weekends like... travel! pick up a new hobby! learn a new skill! (but it ended up being just going to a lot of weddings).

Instead of club team practices, I went to the gym and on long-ish runs outside, not for enjoyment but for the ability to eat cheetos with only a modicum of guilt. For the first time in a decade, I played summer league. I could play purely for fun without being concerned about the end result (funny enough, my team won every game in the regular season). It was a good social outlet and it gave me something to look forward to during the week.

My body has generally been happier about this change of pace. Over the last few seasons, I had accumulated a lengthy list of ailments -- plantar fasciitis, achy knees, sore hips, tenuous hamstrings, sprained fingers -- and it was making me grumpy. I hated feeling like a useless, pathetic lump of flesh on the field (and in life, but that’s a topic for a different post).

So for the first half of the year, I had convinced myself that I was ready to let Ultimate go. By the time July rolled around, however, I felt like a recovering drug addict with a bad case of the shakes. I still had no overwhelming desire to sprint 400s on the track or entangle myself in team politics, but I yearned for team camaraderie, competition, and maybe - just maybe - organizing tournament logistics and telling people what to do (once you’ve ruled with an iron fist, it’s hard to give it up completely).

It’s deeply satisfying to return from a tournament bruised, sunburned, and sore because you feel like you’ve accomplished something. It’s that same feeling of nirvana that draws me to adventures like hiking the Annapurna Circuit in Nepal or trekking the W trail in Torres del Paine in Patagonia. These activities, like playing ultimate, engage and envelop you at all levels mental, physical, and emotional, so when you’re forced to be on the sidelines as a spectator, you feel starved, lazy, weak.

I know that I’m going to have to stop playing Ultimate at some point. I hope that the best of what I can give on the field is still ahead of me. Ideally, I’d quit at the height of my “career” before my body is irreparably broken. I think that’s the best time to make an exit, but some people have differing opinions. In May, I attended a wedding of which one of the guests was Jim Parinella, a veteran of the sport, who told me that retiring from ultimate before having had any major surgeries due to injury is premature. Jim himself recently had serious back and neck surgery but he still gets onto the field whenever he can.

I think he was telling me to suck it up. But the truth is, I’m not that hardcore. I just want to be able to finish off a milkshake with only a modicum of guilt.

And before you go, read this (it’ll explain the title of this post).

Hello Again

Maybe you've noticed that it’s been a few years since I last wrote on this blog. Or maybe not!

Although this blog lay dormant during this period, I didn't forget about it. I had, on many occasions, thought about blogging again, but the idea of facing a blank page and stringing words together in a coherent manner was more than enough to keep me from even trying.

I’m going to suck it up this time and write something. But I feel a little shy about it. Where do I even begin?

When I started blogging in 2006, I was a few years out of college, starting grad school, and harbored an ambition to save the world. 

It’s now 2013, seven years later, and if I could just write a stupid blog post and finish my laundry, I would feel like I accomplished something this year. Oh, how things have changed! 

You know what else has changed? 

My metabolism. As in, it decided to take a permanent vacation to the Bahamas. Without me. 

A couple of weeks after a milestone birthday, I started a new job in the suburbs. Within a few months, the routine of driving everywhere and sitting all day at a desk resulted in the growth of a stubborn layer of blubber around my waist.

Only a few years ago, I could grow a “Buddha belly” after eating a big meal and it would magically disappear within a few hours. It was not a source of concern but rather of amusement (“I ate so much I can barely move! Look at my potbelly! Hahaha!”).

Now, the “endearing” Buddha belly was overstaying its welcome and suddenly it was no longer a laughing matter - at least not to me (others still pointed and laughed...). The issue wasn't that I was overweight. It was the realization that my body was changing and that I had to come to terms with losing the luxury of not worrying about what, when, and how much I was eating.

Of course, there are worse problems in life than looking like a grown version of Honey Boo Boo. It’s just another thing to look forward to as we inch toward middle age.

In Patagonia - Part 1

Five friends and I recently returned from 16 days in Patagonia, a region encompassing Argentina and Chile in South America, where we spent the majority of our time hiking. And when we weren't hiking, we were generally in a car or airplane, driving or flying somewhere to go hiking. That last sentence pretty much sums up our trip, which if you have seen my photos, you would know that it was spectacular trekking, but without additional details it makes for - god forbid - a boring blog entry.

At the risk of sounding boring, I will also disclose from the start that there were no major mishaps - say, ill-fated run-ins with a puma – to report. Frankly, I am a bit disappointed by our puma-less experience. Truth be told, prior to the trip I had no idea that pumas existed in Patagonia, but once I made this discovery, all I wanted was to see one. My enthusiasm (and deluded optimism) was unwavering. On several occasions on our hikes, we’d come across some scat on the trail. And while Brent, our expert scatologist, would carefully examine it to determine the animal from which it came, I would, nary a look, declare with aplomb: “That, my friends, is puma shit! We’ll see one any minute now!”

Alas, that elusive puma never materialized. Instead, our encounters with exciting wildlife included: ducks; wood peckers; flamingos bathing in small ponds; guanacos grazing on the side of the road; smelly Magellan and Gen-too penguins; and an alarmingly large and orange land-crustacean (see below - Sarah had the pleasure of making its acquaintance).


During the 16 days of travel, there was also no Road Rules-esque drama within the group, unless you count an incident of bed cover stealing that culminated in a brief confrontation between Ziff and Sarah on the second night of the trip.

Picture this: After Sarah tugs away the blanket that she is sharing with Ziff, Ziff bolts upright in bed and exclaims, "BRRRR!" (Yes, she actually said “brrr.”) Startled, Sarah turns to Ziff and gasps, "You scared me!" After a moment of silence, Ziff mutters an apology and falls back asleep (Sarah had no recollection of the interaction the next morning). All the while, having been woken up by the commotion, I quietly congratulated myself for having a single bed to myself that night. End scene.

Needless to say, our trip never would have landed us on any reality TV show unless the premise happened to be "pleasant and attractive people travel together and remain polite to each other the entire time." This is not to say that the trip was mishap free. In fact, minor setbacks, inconveniences, and brief episodes of embarrassment were not few in number, and collectively, included the following:

1. A missed flight to Buenos Aires and temporarily lost luggage resulting in a one day delayed arrival
Lesson learned: Don’t book a connecting flight with only an hour stopover in between, particularly during the winter season, because pesky snowstorms and mechanical problems can cause delays.

2. A booked flight for the wrong date
Lesson learned: Double check dates before you click the “buy” button.

3. Nearly losing a passport at the airport
Lesson learned: Treat your passport as if it were your child – don’t leave it out of your sight!

4. A stolen digital camera and Sudoku puzzle book
Lesson learned: Don’t leave valuables in the front pocket of your checked luggage and don’t forget to check around your seat for your belongings before you de-board the plane.

5. A 12 hour food illness that involved frequent vomiting and sprints to public bathrooms
Lesson learned: This was just a bummer.

6. A sprained ankle
Lesson learned: Do not be hasty while navigating rocky terrain.

7. Being drugged into unconsciousness on a boat tour
Lesson learned: Be wary of accepting unidentified pills from strangers even if they are your tour guide.

8. A leaky therma-rest
Lesson learned: Don’t buy used therma-rests at attic sales without thoroughly trying it out first. A deep discount does not a good purchase make.

9. A lost contact lens
Lesson learned: Do not attempt to put in contact lenses outside when it’s windy. Do this while inside your tent.

10. Indecent public exposure while peeing in the "woods”
Lesson learned: If you can see them, they can see you.

11. Inadvertent ingestion of a cow testicle
Lesson learned: If it looks like a testicle, it probably is one.

12. Confusing soap (“jabon”) and ham (“jamon”) in Spanish while ordering in a restaurant
Lesson learned: Soap is not a typical ingredient in pasta dishes.

More insightful entries on Patagonia to come...

I'm Not Dead (But the Humans Are)

Hi.

Is anyone out there?

It feels a little awkward to be blogging after such a long hiatus. Then again, with a readership of three, does it really matter?

Since it would take nothing short of a miracle to finish recounting my New Zealand trip in gory detail, let's just pretend the rest of the trip didn't happen and begin anew with a Reader's Digest version of some highlights of my life since May.

Because my life tends to revolve around Ultimate, I'll start there. After losing in fall league finals last year, my B league team were finally crowned champions of spring league this year. In case you couldn't tell, we're kind of a big deal now.

Following spring league, my Wildwood team went on to demonstrate our frisbee prowess on sand by winning one of the 2-2 beer brackets. In full disclosure, we probably spent more time celebrating our victory (as shown by the multitude of photographs on Facebook that captured us taking turns drinking beer out of our trophy as if it were a golden chalice) than actually playing the finals game, which ended prematurely when it started to rain and our opponent decided they didn't want to get wet.

Celebratory drink

In the world of high stakes Ultimate, my club team, BRDM, seeded 12th out of 16 going into Regionals, fought our way to the second day, placing 6th overall. That didn't get us to Nationals, but it was a good showing in a region that has grown considerably stronger since the previous year. This is evidenced by the impressive performance of two teams from our region - Axis of C'ville who won mixed Nationals and Amp who took 5th place.

A lot has been happened outside of Ultimate as well. Most notably, I welcomed a new niece into the world on September 17. Like her older sister (Ella) and auntie (me) before her, little Lola came out with a full head of hair and a hearty yowl. And like her older sister (Ella) and auntie (me), she is also irresistibly cute and utterly adorable. I am not at all biased when I say this. But don't take my word for it. See for yourself:

Presenting Lola!

In other news, I turned 21 for the fifth time last month. I also recently passed my two year mark at my job. I celebrated this milestone by replenishing my stock of post-it notes and sniffing some sharpies in the dark recesses of my windowless cave of an office. I'm really living it up as a white-collar professional here.

A couple of weekends ago, Deb came to visit and we revived our old college tradition of doing a Halloween costume together. The last time we followed tradition was [gasp] seven years ago! (Holy crap, we're old.) This year, we went as robots in the Flight of the Conchords' "Robot Song (The Humans are Dead)" video.

We like to do the robo-boogie

We did not realize until after we arrived at our Halloween party destination that eating and drinking while in costume was not feasible as our arms were unable to maneuver around the boxes and reach our mouths. Our distress was soon alleviated, however, when the hosts of the party - who were dressed as Phil and Lil from the Rugrats - offered Deb and me baby bottles from which we could drink our beverages. It was all good until the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland (a.k.a. drunk Paul P.) showed up and exploited this vulnerability by squirting whipped cream on my face. In my feeble attempts to defend myself, I ended up just frantically waving my shortened arms in circles and squealing like a newborn babe while he howled in delight. It was not the most dignified of moments.

To wrap up this entry, I am announcing my next big adventure. I'll be heading down to Patagonia in South America at the end of December with some of the same rascals from the NZ trip. We're still in the midst of planning logistics but details on the trip will come in subsequent blog posts (that's the plan anyway).

Show me some love and leave a comment!

NZ - South Island - Part 3

It has been over two months since I came back from NZ and I have only managed to blog about the first three days of my trip. For those of you who have been sitting on the edge of your seats for the past month (i.e. Jesskwan) and wondering what happened on Days 4 through 17 -- my bad. I hope this entry and those to come are worth the wait.

And without further delay, I continue.

Day 4 was to be the first day of a three-day hike on the Kepler Track, a circular 37 mile trail through Fiordland National Park. We were so eager to get started that we almost missed our opportunity entirely.

NZ fact #5: Overnight hiking in New Zealand generally requires reservations. Outdoor camping along the trails is not permitted. Hikers who intend to trek overnight must stay in huts that are maintained by the park service. And in order to stay in huts, hikers must reserve beds on particular dates. Doing so allows the park service to control the traffic on these trails (a very smart idea).

Popular hikes like the Kepler tend to fill up many months in advance. The track we had originally wanted to do, Milford Track, was fully booked by December. In other words, aside from our flights, the Kepler - once booked - was the only non-flexible scheduled activity on our itinerary.

Travel tip #5: Book early, plan ahead, and don't let Larry fill the gas tank.

We had gone grocery shopping and packed our hiking packs the night before in preparation for an early start. We wanted to be at the trailhead no later than 11am with an ideal start at 9am or 10am for a 6 hour hike on the first day. The drive between Queenstown and the trailhead in Te Anau takes about two hours so we aimed to leave the RV park at 7am.

At a little after 7am everyone was still asleep. Except for Larry. He was raring to go! Before any of the rest of us had registered that it was morning, Larry was already sitting in the driver's seat of the RV with the car keys in the ignition. We got the hint. Sarah and I dragged ourselves out of our bed and converted the area back to the "kitchen." LT hopped into the front passenger seat. Within minutes, we were on our way out of Queenstown.

We left the RV park a little later than planned but we were on schedule to make it to the trailhead long before 11am. Or so we thought. Upon leaving city limits, Larry stopped at the gas station to fuel up for the drive. As Larry got out of the RV, Henry called out to him, "Make sure you get diesel!"

While Larry took care of the fueling, I stumbled into the quickie mart to forage for breakfast. Armed with a vegetable pie and bottle of orange juice, I came back to the RV a little more excited for the day. That is, until I noticed Larry’s grim face. I asked LT what had happened.

“Larry put gasoline in the diesel tank.”

D’oh.

Apparently in the US, diesel is marked by a green handle and has a different shaped nozzle. In NZ, gasoline is marked by a green handle and the nozzles for gas and diesel are the same shape. So Larry, in a rush to fuel up and hit the road, failed to inspect the pumps (even though the diesel pump was clearly marked “diesel” on the handle) and only realized it after he had filled half the tank with gasoline and was paying for it.

It also happened to be early morning on Easter Sunday. The auto mechanic across the road was not open. We didn’t know if it was going to open at all that day. With the help of a gas station employee, we pushed our RV to the side of the quickie mart to figure out what to do next. Instead of forging ahead and taking the risk of having our gas tank blow up, we decided to try calling our RV rental company and nearby mechanics. It seemed like we had picked the worst possible day to become stranded somewhere in need of mechanical help. While Larry made calls, the rest of us distracted ourselves from the thought of missing out on the Kepler Track with postcard writing, games, and quickie mart perusing. Fortunately, after several calls, we were eventually able to get in touch with a mechanic who, for a sizeable chunk of change, agreed to come and remove the gasoline out of our tank. Yay for Dave the mechanic!

Dave from Stewart Motors bailing out some silly tourists

Nearly four hours after we left the RV park, we were finally on our way to Te Anau. We arrived at the trailhead at approximately 1pm. With a long, uphill hike ahead of us and only several hours before dusk, we wasted very little time in hitting the dusty trail.

At the Kepler Track trailhead

Gear tip #1: Do not buy a North Face hydration pack, it sucks. Stick with the trusted brand of Camelbak.

Within the first 15 minutes of hiking, I felt a suspiciously cold wetness on my lower back. I removed my hiking pack to find that my hydration pack had leaked. Fortunately, I caught it early enough that there was still plenty of water in the bladder, and transferred it from the back of my hiking pack to the front pocket.

Aside from the leaky bladder mishap, the rest of the trek went smoothly. The weather was perfect – clear, sunny, and cool. The views at the top near the Luxmore Hut where we were to stay the first night were beautiful. We even made it to the hut before dark, completing the 6 hour trek in 4.5 hours. We hauled ass up that trail.

View right before getting to Luxmore Hut

We were one of the last groups to arrive at Luxmore. Many people had already begun cooking dinner or were already finishing up. We claimed some empty bunk beds, unloaded our packs, and headed for the kitchen.

NZ fact #6: NZ is one of the few remaining places in the world where you can safely drink the fresh water without filtering or boiling it first. It tastes pretty good too.

The huts provide running water, stove burners, and lights in the kitchen area. There are communal bathrooms but no showers. Hikers must supply their own cookware and utensils. LT brought along her camping pot and knife, and we made rice with peppers and onions. Food never tasted so good. We chatted for a little bit, waited for the park ranger to make his little spiel about rules, and then got ready for bed.


To be continued…

NZ - South Island - Part 2

Day 3: We had only a day planned in Queenstown, and being that we were in the "Adventure Capital of the World," we knew we couldn't leave without participating in at least one heart-racing, stomach churning activity.

Queenstown

We spent the early morning walking around town, browsing various outdoor gear and clothing stores, and strolling through an arts and crafts market. By 11am, the boys' patience for shopping had worn thin. Eager to hurl themselves off a cliff, Larry and Henry headed off to a tour booking center to learn more about the myriad of near-death experiences while I waited for LT and Sarah to finish up their souvenir shopping.

At the internet/booking center, we perused a wall of brochures that advertised everything from mountain biking and fly fishing to bungy jumping and canyon swinging. Sarah wanted to go sky diving. Larry and LT wanted to go canyon swinging or bungy jumping. Henry wanted to try paragliding. And what did I want to do? I wanted to check my e-mail.

NZ travel tip #4: Book activities early, at least a day in advance, if possible.

When we inquired about availability, however, there were not enough spots for Larry and LT to go canyon swinging. Sky diving took too much time and it was too windy for paragliding.

"Bummer," I lamented with a small hint of glee.

What was available was the shotover canyon jet boat ride so we signed up for that. What is jet boating, you ask? Why, it's "the world's most exciting boat ride," of course! The Shotover Jet company website provides an amusing, more detailed description:

"From the moment the accelerator hits the floor your adrenaline hits the roof as you speed in mere centimetres of water along the famous Shotover River and deep into the spectacular Shotover River Canyons. ...Rock faces blur in your peripheral vision, the opaque water sprays into myriads of white crystals with every turn, and you grip the hand rail for comfort and reassurance and then let out a whoop of excitement as your driver spins the boat around in its own boat length — wow, you've just experienced the World famous Shotover Jet full 360-degree spin. Hold on tight and enjoy the thrill as you spin and without losing momentum keep speeding along the river."

But wait, there's more!

"The best thing of all… this is actually good for you. Studies have shown a good thrill livens up your system, waking up dormant biochemical pathways that refresh, relieve stress and heal. You experience a sense of euphoria and well being as your brain receives a welcome cocktail of oxygen, sugar, adrenaline, cortisol and endorphins. The result — a natural high that makes you feel great! It’s our own unique and exclusive form of Jet Boat therapy, we call it Thrill Therapy and we've been prescribing it since 1970 — a good healthy dose of adrenaline to get you feeling alive!"

We were too cheap to pay for the "professional" photos taken of us but the photo below is a pretty accurate representation of what we looked like during the world's most exciting boat ride.

I enjoyed jet boating quite a bit. I'm a lazy thrill-seeker. The less I physically have to do to get my adrenaline flowing, the better. And all that jet boating required was for me to wear a smelly rain poncho and sit on my ass for half an hour.

Upon returning to Queenstown, we ate a massive meal at Fergburger (their website is worth a quick peek). While the others each ate half a cow for lunch, I went with the more veggie-friendly but similarly heavy "Bun Laden" -- falafel patties dressed with a lemon yogurt and chipotle chili sauce, lettuce, tomato, red onion, cucumber, avocado, and aioli.


Before food coma could set in, we ambled over to the skyline gondola to check out the scenic viewpoint overlooking Queenstown and go luging - or as Sarah excitedly called it: "lubing." I'm not sure if what Sarah had in mind was the same thing or not; we didn't really want to know (though I'm sure either would have been equally fun).

View at the top

LT wooshing by on the luge!

We ended the day with grocery shopping in preparation for our 3-day hike on the Kepler track the following day.


To be continued...

NZ - South Island - Part 1

On April 7, Henry, LT, Sarah, Larry, and I met up in Los Angeles for our flight to Auckland. Having only had a few hours of sleep the night before, I spent the majority of the twelve hour flight unconscious, waking up only for meals. I attempted to watch "Marley & Me" but fell asleep part way through. If cute puppies and attractive actors couldn't keep me awake, it clearly was not a very good movie. Every time I woke up and looked at the brightly lit screen in front of me, Owen Wilson was busy chasing after a frisky pooch around the house (and I don't mean Jennifer Aniston).

Travel tip #1: During a long flight, if you plan to sleep for several consecutive hours on the plane, do not take your shoes off if you don't want to look like you have softballs for ankles for a good day or two afterward.

When we landed in Auckland, we went through customs where Sarah fretted over whether she should declare the 5-lb bag of almonds and 3-lb container of raisins she brought with her for the trip. We wondered why her bags were so ridiculously heavy, and we naturally drew the conclusion that Sarah didn't think there would be anything to eat in New Zealand so she had to bring her own food.

She did not declare them and went through customs without a problem, but we did lose Larry for a brief while when his bags were whisked away to be inspected (Asians must look sketchier than redheads). When the group reconvened, we ventured over to the domestic terminal to board our flight to Christchurch on the South Island.

Henry, Sarah, Larry, LT, Me

Travel tip #2: If you are checking bags for multiple flights all at once, make sure that after you retrieve your bag from your international flight you do not remove the airline destination tags from that bag before checking it on your connecting flight.

LT inadvertently removed her tags on her hiking pack before placing them on the conveyor belt at the check-in counter, which the airline employee failed to notice. Her bag never made it on our flight to Christchurch, but fortunately, LT sorted it out and her bag was eventually dropped her off at our hotel by the end of the day.

Before heading into the city center, we decided to visit the International Antarctic Centre located right by the airport -- our first sightseeing, touristy experience! LT had always wanted to visit Antarctica and this center touted a "powerful, exciting, and interactive" experience of Antarctica. It sounded promising enough; the center brochure even boasted about the center being voted NZ's best attraction, twice!

Upon seeing the exorbitant admission prices, however, any initial excitement I felt quickly waned. I did not want to pay $48 NZ ($30 USD) to stand in a room and "interact" with snow, wind, and ice. I grew up in the northeast, I know what it's like to feel cold, and I felt no desire to fly half way around the world to pay to be blown around in a wind tunnel.

LT and Larry decided to do it anyway, so Henry, Sarah, and I ate almonds and tossed the frisbee outside while we waited for them. When they came out, we asked them how it was. Let's just say the $48 NZ was better spent on something other than NZ's "best" attraction.

Travel tip #3: Do not bother with the International Antarctic Centre in Christchurch. Eat almonds and toss the frisbee instead if given the option.

NZ fact #1: Christchurch is the largest city on the South Island with a population of approximately 600,000.

Our plan was to spend the day touring the city before picking up our RV the next day. After lunch, we visited a cathedral, checked out an arts center, walked through a botanic garden, and then took a bus out of the city to ride a gondola up to a very scenic overlook.

View at the top of the gondola

By late afternoon, jet lag started to hit me big time. The urge to sleep was trumped only by the desire to eat, so we dined at an excellent Indian restaurant in town before retreating to our accommodations. I fell asleep as soon as I climbed into bed at 9pm.

Day 2: At around 6am, Henry decided he wanted to go for a run and he made sure we were all up to join him. So all of us except for Larry jogged to the botanic garden where Sarah led us with a killer quad/hamstring workout. I'm not sure why we were so zealous about working out on vacation, but we ended up doing a gazillion sets of lunges, star jumps, squats, push ups, and tricep dips. Little did I know then that I would be crippled for two days after that workout, right for the start of the hardest multi-day hike of our trip!

After showering and grabbing breakfast at Joe's Garage, we called a cab to the RV company where we picked up our sweet RV. While the guys worked out the contract details in the office, the ladies took a tour of our home for the next two weeks.

We present to you, our RV!

And then we were off! As we zipped along in our RV, we saw many sheep and cows dotting the rural landscape.

NZ fact #2: NZ has a human population of approximately 4 million.

NZ fact #3: NZ has a sheep population of approximately 40 million.

There were sheep and more sheep, cows and more cows, and then... deer? What the heck? I thought I was seeing imaginary deer by the side of the road. Turns out, they were not so imaginary.

NZ fact #4: Deer are not native to NZ. They were introduced - along with many other non-native animal and plant species - back in the 1950s. Currently, NZ is a large exporter of venison to European countries like Germany.

We made it to our first natural wonders attraction just before dusk - the Moeraki Boulders - which are unusually large and spherical rocks on a beach.

Some Moeraki Boulders

After scrambling up the boulders and snapping some photos, we continued on our merry way to Queenstown, a place known for where adrenaline junkies get their fix of heart-stopping thrills.



To be continued...