So I've decided not to quit marching band, though I know it would save me quite a bit of stress. There are other reasons for my not quitting other than the whole pow-wow that I had with Kayla, Steele and Emily, but this is about marching band, not my inner-most thoughts. Well, not exactly.
Yesterday was my first day back on the field since MCBA States November 2010. It was almost a bittersweet feeling, knowing how much hell I'd have to go through to get through this season and for the entire group to go through to make it to States again. We're hoping to make it again for the third year in a row, and we have a pretty good chance of not being in the bottom of our class. Flight II is the hardest for a reason, and we're constantly competing against better marchers, better musicians, better dancers/ guards...you get the point.
I felt the heat from the field seeping up into my shoes and I knew immediately why I always want to quit during summer rehearsals. They're the worst, and for someone who doesn't take kindly to extreme heat or cold, I was covered in sweat and sunscreen, and I always get the worst headaches. Mostly, those just turn into migraines, so when I get home, I'm ready to crawl into the darkest part of my house and not emerge until the sun has gone down. Unfortunately, I was sweating so much that the sunscreen dripped into my eyes, and it stung. But could I break set to go wash out my eyes or even rub them? Not a chance. It's a good thing that I can march forwards and backwards and listen to commands with my eyes closed because I kept squeezing my eyes shut, willing the burning to go away.
Summer rehearsals are always the worst part of marching band, and they're really tedious. I do understand that the basics and repetition of the basics will make us better, but Brad's rants are far from fun, and getting lectured on every mistake is so very boring. My least favorite part is sliding, and learning how to do it. If I could just skip it, I totally would. The color guard doesn't slide too often because we're facing our spots, or we're dancing side-to-side. It kills my knee when we twist and I actually try to keep that stupid leg straight every time. I know that by now it'll hurt more if I keep it straight, and I still try to get through it. Poor injured knee...and back. My scoliosis doesn't really allow for too much twisting, especially when doing our fancy guard pushups on the right side, which I have to modify now. Apparently, it's gotten worse, and I only just discovered that during pushups today. But my back won't be the only thing hurting tomorrow: my abs will probably be the most sore out of everything. All of my core muscles are used for pretty much everything that I do, and crunches almost killed me today. They'll murder me tomorrow when I try to sit up, but that's nothing that I haven't dealt with before. Actually, the only new thing that I experienced today was what happens when I forget to take my iron meds...oops. That was not fun, but I don't see a need to regale anyone with that experience.
Poor Leah today! I felt so sorry for her when she was telling me about how upset she was that she had to sit out. I know the feeling, so I can totally sympathize with her. When I sit out, I'm watching my watch (to see how long I've been out so that I can monitor that), or I'm watching the band. When the season picks up and my knee starts to pretty much dictate my every. single. freaking. move. then I air flag on the sideline, or I picture myself doing the flagwork, going through every checkpoint. In my mental pictures, I hit every spot exactly on, and I don't mess up at all. ;) I usually don't mess up the work, but I can't say the same for my drill. It depends on how aware I am in the moment when I'm actually marching it, and it also depends on where other people are around me. I'm close to my sets though, even when I'm dressing the shapes.
I need to take my shower now, and I feel so gross right now that I might explode if I don't get this done. I'll be here all year, sharing my senior year of marching band with anyone who wants to listen.
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