Carolina Crown Royal
Dear me, so I've been home for some time now. Drum corps is muchley missed and the plan is to volunteer from July 18th to the 29th. That will take me from AL to LA, a good week in TX (in which there will be a free day) AR TN and back to GA as preparation for Madison rises to a crescendo!!! Oh, this is exciting, Crown broke 80 this weekend and I only wish I were still on the field.
I had been having a rough time with spring training (marching your first year in a top 12 div I corps is not easy on the body, nor the mind) but not much more so than anyone else. I can honestly say we were in for hell together.
So I broke about a week into it. My body began to adjust to the regiment, I realized just how many drugs I needed to keep moving, and my knee had switched from a constant drudging pain to the occasional sharp prick. However, my other knee began that clicking, unsteady jive and the pain began to affect my range of motion... a quick trip to Wal-Mart found a supplementary knee brace and the problem was marginally fixed. One look at a video revealed the Bionic Baritone in all her strappy glory. You should check out my tanlines.
Anyway I thought I was in the green. Once I worked out that injury was an ineffectual fear all I had left to develop was posture and endurance (which are really one in the same when it comes down to it). Then my ankles swelled. For weeks they swelled and all the ice and ibuprofen in the world wouldn't stop it. My ankles became so stiff I couldn't march proper technique...
I waited until a rain day and made the annoying trek to the doctor, requisitioned some anti-inflammatory and was back to normal in no time. The meds even helped with my knee alittle (although with the swelling pain gone, the deep joint pain became prevalent... though suppressible).
The stress of overworked muscles and overstretched ligaments finally overcame me one day. I had pushed and pushed and marched through tears, ran off stinging pain, endured hours at a time of mental anguish and testing... and refused to sit out when I knew my body was on the edge. Too stubborn... but maybe I knew I'd fall eventually anyway
I pushed and felt the ::pop!:: Luckily we were doing a circle exercise, so I could stop, attempt to walk, and fall to my knees in order to place my baritone carefully on its towel (we'd gotten new horns just days before). When the exercise was over Abbey and Dover carried me up the hill... I knew it was done.
Short story =
The doctor verified a pulled groin muscle that would take a month to heal. Noone in their right mind would let me march. Matt put Jevon in my spot... dropped me to alternate. It still stings. But I got my tuition refunded, boarded a greyhound bus at midnight and spent the next day in transit... it was a long day.
Two buses, a trolly, two airplanes, two car rides, and twelve shots of espresso later, I was home.
And I was lonely. Never thought I'd think of showers as lonely, nor of beds as awkward. Never thought I'd miss food truck lines or morning stretches. I partied... somehow it doesn't even compare. In the beginning I wanted home more than anything. Then I realized I'd be in agony if I weren't on tour. I began to love Drum Corps, really understand it... and the people. And now I'm home. It feels like home again, but at first I could have sworn I was leaving it instead. I needed that 15 hours of bus stations and airport terminals... I needed time to forget where I was coming from. Forgetting is easy. Especially in sleeplessness and books and headphones.
Ah well, life goes on. It's a rare gift to be able to watch a show I once marched, live from the stands. I'm ready for that shock and awe.
tired now,
Mika
I had been having a rough time with spring training (marching your first year in a top 12 div I corps is not easy on the body, nor the mind) but not much more so than anyone else. I can honestly say we were in for hell together.
So I broke about a week into it. My body began to adjust to the regiment, I realized just how many drugs I needed to keep moving, and my knee had switched from a constant drudging pain to the occasional sharp prick. However, my other knee began that clicking, unsteady jive and the pain began to affect my range of motion... a quick trip to Wal-Mart found a supplementary knee brace and the problem was marginally fixed. One look at a video revealed the Bionic Baritone in all her strappy glory. You should check out my tanlines.
Anyway I thought I was in the green. Once I worked out that injury was an ineffectual fear all I had left to develop was posture and endurance (which are really one in the same when it comes down to it). Then my ankles swelled. For weeks they swelled and all the ice and ibuprofen in the world wouldn't stop it. My ankles became so stiff I couldn't march proper technique...
I waited until a rain day and made the annoying trek to the doctor, requisitioned some anti-inflammatory and was back to normal in no time. The meds even helped with my knee alittle (although with the swelling pain gone, the deep joint pain became prevalent... though suppressible).
The stress of overworked muscles and overstretched ligaments finally overcame me one day. I had pushed and pushed and marched through tears, ran off stinging pain, endured hours at a time of mental anguish and testing... and refused to sit out when I knew my body was on the edge. Too stubborn... but maybe I knew I'd fall eventually anyway
I pushed and felt the ::pop!:: Luckily we were doing a circle exercise, so I could stop, attempt to walk, and fall to my knees in order to place my baritone carefully on its towel (we'd gotten new horns just days before). When the exercise was over Abbey and Dover carried me up the hill... I knew it was done.
Short story =
The doctor verified a pulled groin muscle that would take a month to heal. Noone in their right mind would let me march. Matt put Jevon in my spot... dropped me to alternate. It still stings. But I got my tuition refunded, boarded a greyhound bus at midnight and spent the next day in transit... it was a long day.
Two buses, a trolly, two airplanes, two car rides, and twelve shots of espresso later, I was home.
And I was lonely. Never thought I'd think of showers as lonely, nor of beds as awkward. Never thought I'd miss food truck lines or morning stretches. I partied... somehow it doesn't even compare. In the beginning I wanted home more than anything. Then I realized I'd be in agony if I weren't on tour. I began to love Drum Corps, really understand it... and the people. And now I'm home. It feels like home again, but at first I could have sworn I was leaving it instead. I needed that 15 hours of bus stations and airport terminals... I needed time to forget where I was coming from. Forgetting is easy. Especially in sleeplessness and books and headphones.
Ah well, life goes on. It's a rare gift to be able to watch a show I once marched, live from the stands. I'm ready for that shock and awe.
tired now,
Mika