Blood, Sweat, and Years
My story begins in the rainy, cold and brisk weathers of the Northeast. I grew up in this dreary New England weather and have raised my own family here staying close to my roots.
My husband and I have always tried to live a healthy and active life. Growing up, both of us were very involved in team sports (me, as a field hockey goalie and my husband captain of his college soccer team). Today in our older age we still find our selves having a competitive edge. This although was not unveiled until we left the cold and rain of the Northeast and found ourselves in the cobbled streets of Galway, Ireland.
We have put away some money since our kids left the house and could finally afford a trip to the land of both of our ancestors.
I wish I could say this adventure started on the majestic waters aboard a cruise ship or in the safety of a large cabin on a big aircraft, but then I would be lying. This story starts on the rickety steps of a small plane. I was already feeling weary when we were boarding but my hesitation started taking over when we on the strip ready for take off. At this point in our journey, I was feeling well, nauseous. I honestly thought that plane was going to fall to pieces before we ever left U.S. territory.
One upset stomach and about 15 hours later we finally reached our destination. It was nice to step foot on solid ground after what felt like a few close calls in the air.
The first night we were in town we relaxed and grabbed some amazing local cuisine and went to bed early to prepare for the adventures that lay ahead, this ended up being a good idea.
The sun rose the next morning and while on our way to brunch we saw a flyer for touch rugby. Both being Americans, we were not too familiar with the concept of the game but on a whim we wrote down the number.
We didn’t wait to call since we were only in the country for three weeks. We wanted something to get our hearts pumping and our blood moving through our veins. This was the perfect mission.
The first practice was fairly embarrassing seeing as we had no clue what was going on. The learning curve came soon though and we were looking like the locals within the first week. The games were fun and mostly consisted on scrimmages within our team. It was so great to see my husband come alive again. I haven’t seen him jump, run, and throw like that since he was in his early twenties.
Myself, well, let’s just say that I saw my old sprit of the game come out. It was a younger version of myself that I don’t think I ever lost but misplaced for a little while. It was something that brought me back to a place where I could hear the feet stopping on the bleachers, the hands clapping and the fans screaming. It was an amazing feeling that put a huge smile on my face for our whole trip.
The end of journey came quicker then it had approached and we were both sad to see our time in Ireland dwindle.
I think there was something special that we gained from our time in the land of Guinness and green pastures. It was more than the game of Rugby and more than the competitive nature that emerged after so long. It was that it doesn’t matter your age or your skill level. It’s not about the winner or the loser or even how you play the game but its about the blood, sweat and tears that goes in to a friendly game of ball. It’s about that special high that you get when you put your heart on the line and play like it’s the last game you’ll ever play. It’s about not loosing your strength of mind and determination but rekindling it. Feeding the fire.
Once we returned to the states we both joined an indoor soccer club and have been playing on that team for the last four years. Since our trip I can say that a lot of things in our life have changed for the better. We are now in the best shape since our college days, our marriage is better than ever, and we still get to kick some ass once a week.
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