Something clever should go here....

Gear up, this is a long one. As much as I would like to complain about how silly and useless fitness is, this weekend has shown just how useful it actually can be. When we last spoke, Robin had just beaten me to a pulp via sprints and tires. All that pain ended up paying off this weekend but I'll get to that later. Not a lot happened Wednesday, just relaxed and watched some TV, Thursday was a quality training session. Everyone seemed focused and ready to play for the coming weekend. I woke up Friday with a little extra get up because I would be watching my first pro rugby game later that night between the Western Province Rugby Club and the Natal Sharks. During the day we went to go watch the fourth team go play some golf at a nearby course. The mountains served as a striking background for the holes we were watching. While we were waiting for people to come in, Aaron and I had some lovely conversation with Garrick and one of the fourth team's coaches. Topics included Ferrari, Formula one and the lovely weather of downtown Houston. We could have stayed there but if we wanted to get a good parking spot before the match, we had to leave before everyone came in. We find a spot, get out, walk around and grab some borewors rolls to eat. It's just about game time and we meet up with Liza who has our tickets. We find our seats which are thankfully underneath a giant pavilion. While we were under the stands it had started raining and it continued to do so throughout the whole game. The rain slowed down the pace of the game so there was a lot of kicking, scrums and general time wasting. It wasn't an awesome game and Western Province (the team we were cheering for) ended up losing but it was still fun to watch. After the game, we went to a place called Springboks for a nightcap and to people watch. Garrick, Aaron and I decided it was for the best that we not leave the table for fear of getting drawn to the dance floor like a moth to a flame. If that were to happen, the chances of us getting home at a decent hour would be nil. The DJ must have known this as he just had to play the catchiest music making it harder and harder to stay at our table. Garrick's girlfriend, Jen, showed up with her friend Emily and both were in the mood to dance. They kept pushing and it got harder and harder to say no until Aaron finally caved and followed Em to the dance floor. Jen pulled me along and within minutes we were dancing. After a while, some guy tried to start a fight with me because I accidentally stepped on his shoe. I had to keep from laughing at how small this guy was compared to me but it turns out he was just joking. We leave Springbok's and are off to Em's boyfriend's apartment so that they can continue partying. Once there, Aaron and I decided it was a good time to duck out before we stayed any later and hurt our chances at playing well the next day. We get home, lights out and it's time to rest up for the big day. Morning came quickly as we suited up to play the University of Cape Town.

Robin's Fun Time

Warm up:
Take tire overhead, run a full field suicide shuttle.
(Start at try line, run to 22, then back to start, then to 50, then back to start, then to other 22, then back to start, then to other try line, back to start)

Upper Body:
Set 1:
Body in squat position, 40 chest presses
Drop tire, 20 push ups on tire
Pick up tire, 40 overhead presses,
Drop tire, 20 hill push ups (bum in the air, aiming your head into the tire)
SPRINT to opposite try line and back
Set 2:
30 chest presses
15 push ups
30 overhead presses
15 hill push ups
SPRINT
Set 3:
20 chest presses
10 push ups
20 overhead presses
10 hill push ups
SPRINT

Lower Body:
Set 1:
With tire in hands, 30 backward lunges
Drop tire,15 jumping split squats
Pick up tire, 30 overhead squats
Drop Tire, 15 jump squats
SPRINT
Set 2:
20 backward lunges
10 jumping split squats
20 overhead squats
10 jump squats
SPRINT
Set 3:
10 backward lunges
5 jumping split squats
10 overhead squats
5 jump squats
SPRINT

More Cardio:
With a partner, one does quick step ups while the other runs the width of the pitch and back. Partners switch after the partner has come back from the other side of the pitch. Repeat three times

Core Work....with a tire
40 sit ups letting the tire hit the ground behind your head then touching it past your toes
40 Russian twists with feet off the ground
40 In-n outs while holding the tire
40 regular crunches without a tire

So there you have it, I'm hoping I can walk tomorrow.

Cheers,

Josh

Ouch....

Happy Women's Day from South Africa!

Today I was supposed to have a technique session with the head coach but one of the other props had to cancel so we're going to reschedule it. Today while grocery shopping, we decided to throw an impromptu braai in order to celebrate the holiday. Seeing as how it was a holiday, Aaron and I thought that not that many people would show up for training. Tuesdays are usually a harder contact and fitness session, so that mixed with a national holiday probably meant a lighter training with few people there. Well there were not that many okes (guys) that showed up but those that did were subjected to the tortures of the fitness trainer. A quick description of the trainer: A female, about 5'5, blonde hair, beautiful face, and a sadistic desire to see you cry and hurt. Her name is Robin, but some players whisper the nickname "Little Hitler". We were told to go fetch some car tires off the side of the pitch, and me being the egotistical manly man that I am, went for the largest one there. The size of that mistake is relative to the size of the tire; so in this case, pretty big. We ran, we pushed, we squatted, ran some more, did sit ups with it, ran again. The whole time we were in pain, Robin would tell us to run faster, push harder, squat deeper, suck it up and run again. The session seems to have lasted about 45 hours but was probably only 45 minutes. My next post will be the actual work out so that everyone can see just how slightly insane "LH" is. Since I've been home, I really haven't left my bed due to exhaustion. 

Cheers, 

Josh

Cool bit of news

Practiced today with the first side, met the head coach Peter DeVilliers. He has played professionally in France and played on the French national team when they beat the All Blacks, and he's a prop. During touch, my knee bent at a funny angle and I took the rest of practice off just to be safe. After practice, talked to Peter a bit more and asked if there was a chance to maybe get some pointers or some coaching bits. The result: I'm doing a technique, core and bag session with him and another prop tomorrow. I'll let you know the results of it tomorrow.

Cheers,

Josh

Saturday is a rugby day

Woke up to find the sun shining and a light mountain breeze blowing through the house. The weather is nice enough during the day to open up the doors and windows to let in the cool air. For breakfast: scrambled eggs and some bacon mixed in, total champion move. We walk to the field where we get changed to warm up. I am excited to hear that I am starting and can't wait for kickoff. While we're getting changed, I'm told that the team we're playing, Durbell, has a group of forwards that weigh close to most international forward packs. At last, the kick off whistle blows. Looking up, I see that our team truly is the David in this Goliath of a fight. The prop I'm playing against, is a huge "Dutchie", or an Afrikaans version of a corn-fed Nebraska boy. He looks about 300 pounds or heavier and just has a general snarl to his face. The first half we could not seem to make our tackles while the big boys ran over us. Our backs are more organized than theirs but the first half ends sooner than we would lik. Half time is filled with encouragement to try and beat the Dutchies. The second half whistle blows and as time wears on, we start to make more of our tackles. We score some, but they score more and by the end of the game, we've lost 33-18. A hot shower later, we head up to the team bar to hang out and braai (the Afrikaans word for a barbecue) where I am introduced to more and more people with names that get harder and harder to remember. We watch the first side lead the whole game and then lose the lead towards the end of the game thanks to a lucky break. The remaining few minutes are filled with cheers and shouts to try and rally the Villagers to one more score. As they near the tryline, full time has been reached and one of the players drops the ball. Whistle blows, game over, Villagers lose. A sad day but still good rugby all around. A little while later, we are called into the bar where the man of the match will be announced for each game. For each team, one player is chosen that had a stand out performance. They start with the U-20s squad, then move to the fourth side and then thirds. Our coach walks up to announce the Man of the Match and it takes me a second to realize he is saying my name. Among the applause and cheers I walk up and accept my prize: a custom pint glass with the team crest and Man of the Match stamped on it. Some more handshakes and thanks and I am back with my friends. We stay at the bar a bit longer and then head back home so that I can be shown the nightlife of Cape Town. We stay out pretty late, and grab a taxi to get back home.

The next day is filled with relaxation and down time as I had been going pretty much nonstop since I landed Thursday. I took that opportunity to Skype my parents for the first time and it was heartwarming to see my whole family and how much they care. Nothing too exciting happened the rest of the day until my parents and I Skyped again but this time with my grandfather. Again, it was awesome to see everyone halfway around the world telling me just how much they support me. Today I am going to try and get some better picture to post up here just so that I can show just how beautiful this place is. Until next time, stay classy.

Cheers bru,

Josh

Rugby, rugby and wait for it......more rugby.

Wheels come to a halt, windows open, and passengers stir as we touch down at Cape Town International. It's been an 11 hour flight and we're all keen to get off the plane. I heave my pack back onto my shoulders and trundle along to get my luggage. The size of the airport is pretty tiny compared to the last two. I am to try and find the shuttle bus to take into town where Aaron will meet me at the train station. Even though the airport is small, finding my way around is a chore because everything is in three languages: English, Afrikaans, and Zulu. I step outside, and the shock of winter hits me. I was mentally prepared for the weather, but physically adjusting took a bit of time. I step on the shuttle, and we set off for town. Within the first 30 seconds, the famed shanty towns appear on the side of the road. Cardboard, tires, plastic, sheet metal, anything flat that will give some support and a bit of warmth are used. Shanty towns give way to farms, schools and eventually I see the mountains behind everything. One of the most famous mountains is aptly named Table Mountain due to its flat crest. Table Mountain is almost always visible and is almost always breathtaking to see. The bus rolls into the city and drops us off at the station. Aaron is there where we walk and catch up on the way to the train station. Once on the train, we are bombarded with beggars, people offering knick knacks, drinks, chips, the works. The train ride lasts about thirty minutes where we walk the rest of the way to his house. My day suddenly becomes more tiring when Aaron tells me my first training would be in six hours. So we grab lunch, then I pass out for the next few hours until it's time for training. The Villager Rugby Club is phenomenal, three full size pitches, shower facilities, team bar, a gym and places for players to live, pictures to come soon. It rained quite a bit that training so not a lot of players showed up, so we played touch for about two hours. I was introduced to a flurry of people whose names I'm still struggling to remember. After training, went home and passed out.

The next morning, Aaron and I went to travel to go see some school-age rugby in a town called Paarl. The speed and level of quality rugby just from the Under 14 teams were amazing to see. Rugby is so popular, that each school has about 4 Under 19 teams, so just because you're a senior does not mean you have to play varsity. We watched about three matches then decided to head back home. Once home, I was formerly introduced to Aaron's roommates Dan and Garrick. Both funny funny guys who also play rugby for the Villagers. The next morning was game day so we decided to get some sleep.

Apologies for the long post but a lot has happened and I'm trying to write it all down. Post about Saturday is coming soon, just figured your eyes needed a break.

Cheers bru,

Josh

A long and weary travel

With everything packed, all necks hugged numerous times, and even some tears, Dad, my little brother Matthias and I head for the airport in Houston. This summer's heat has been terrible and I grow ever thankful for the moderately chilly weather waiting to greet me in Cape Town. As I walk through security, Dad stands there and watches me go through. This has been a tradition of ours ever since my first rugby trips when I was trying out as  Junior Eagle. The reasoning behind such close surveillance? No matter how old I get, I am still his son and he will always watch over me. What was once kind of embarassing, has now turned into a large amount of respect for a man who will do what it takes for his children. I'm through security, but Dad has lost sight of me. Trusting in my unfailing sense of direction, Dad assumes I've gone through safely and I am off to the gate. The gate is easy enough to find, now just to settle in and wait. We board, take off, and bump our way into London. Sleep was pretty hard to come by due the small size of the seats and the not so small size of me. Land in Jolly Ole, and realize that Heathrow is about 3 times the size of Houston's airport, IAH. After trundling along with the crowd, I try and see what terminal my connecting flight is in. I thouhgt it was through Iberia which was in a completely different terminal. After looking like a lost dog, I humble my ego and decide to ask for some direction. I'm glad I did, because I found out I was in the wrong terminal. Another 5 minute bus ride later, I'm back where I'm supposed to be. I had an 8 hour layover in London and really wanted to see some sights in that time. After realizing how poorly I knew my way around, I decided it wasn't worth the risk of going out into a brand new city to try and see some buildings....maybe on my return home. I wait, walk around, wait some more, do even more waiting, and then finally the gate listing is posted. No matter how nice an airport may look or be well equipped, you will still look like cattle moving through line after line, passport check after passport check. Meander to the gate, wait around, and as the boarding is about to begin, intercom pops on with a sad announcement. Mechanical failures have lead to a change in plane, and weirdly, a change in staff(someone must not have had their wheaties this morning). More being herded to the new gate, more waiting, then finally time to board. It's an 11 hour flight and there is a Frenchman in front of me who does not seem to know the meaning of personal space. That's all for right now. If I am lucid enough to tpe when I land, then I shall update this page.

My elder cousin has a blog going and she has a cool sign off. I'm going to try and figure one out, but suggestions are always welcome.

Josh