ETERNAL SUNSHINE AND MY THOUGHTLESS MIND
Training camps have a tendency to numb the mind. Especially when they are filled with twenty five, twenty-something’s who have put their “real” life on hold in order to chase a dream or fulfill some destiny or look good for women or just because they have nothing better to do. If you’re not careful you will end up playing video games all day, sleeping every chance you get, just spacing out in front of the TV, or lying on your bed just staring at the ceiling.
I have not been very successful fending off bouts of laziness. When you’re training three times a day it’s easy to justify. This camp, however, I’ve e been fortunate enough to have a new hammock, which I was able to rig up on the balcony of my room at the training center in Chula Vista. Having the hammock outside in the sun encouraged me to at least go out and attempt to listen to some new music or read a book before I fell asleep. I’m re-reading my Salinger library.
Eventually, though, the boredom and repetitions of wake up, coffee, row, eat, row, eat, sleep, row, eat, try to relax, sleep, repeat, gets the best of you. The mind starts to go numb and blank. Conversations deteriorate. Humor becomes uncomplicated. To be frank, the loose social organization, which had very little structure to begin with, rapidly turns into an Idiocracy.
This doesn’t mean that there aren’t gems of conversation or moments of entertaining thought. Last week I not only listened to, but also actually engaged in a discussion about what would win in a fight between a shark and a bear. After some debate and agreement reached that the only medium that would allow a fair fight would be outer space, it was decided that the bear would win because it has arms. I am not making this up. Later that week, during one practice I started to wonder about the buoy line on our lake, which was trashed. Large sections were missing. Rouge buoys were scattered around the lake. It took sharp turns followed by slow bends. It was very hard to follow. I was convinced for about twenty minutes of the practice that sea gulls had been destroying the buoy line in an attempt to reclaim their territory. I still think it’s possible but I have no proof.
You might be asking yourself, in fact you should be asking, “Why don’t you go somewhere and do something?” Well, good question. Two main reasons: transportation is a hot commodity and money is tight. Combined with not having much time off and being tired from practice and you get a group of people not highly motivated to be active. Usually we make it to the beach to get some surfing in or out somewhere to watch some football games. A group did make it to a monster truck rally.
The most exciting and eventful evening I had was on a Sunday. We found a country western bar that converts their dance floor on Sundays into a Dodge ball court. I never though a little competitive, underground adult dodge ball to pass the time could be so fun. It was almost exactly like the movie Dodgeball, but with a touch of Bloodsport. It was dark and dusty. There were people hanging from the rafters spilling beer and cheering their favorite teams. Bookies were taking bets. The game play was aggressive. Everyone was talking trash. The bar brought in dodgeball ringers from Vegas. Each team had unique and complicated personalities. I never thought I would see so many headbands and wristbands in a bar on a Sunday night. We played seven best of three matches and lost six. The only team we beat was an all girl team and the only reason we won was because it was the first game and we were fresh. People were doing back flips and cartwheels to avoid getting hit; headshots were allowed and encouraged. I almost broke some poor guys arm after Dan Walsh literally threw me at mid-court to get a ball.
By the end of the night we were a beaten, but revitalized group of humbled elite athletes driving in a fully loaded, but borrowed Range Rover, tails tucked back to the training center. I was sore the next day, but it was worth it. A fresh, inspired mind can never be underestimated.
Anniversary