Recently I have taken up the sport of rugby (anyone who physically knows me will immediately think 'yeah right!', 'What, girls rugby?', 'are you the water boy?' or something to that effect) and it's actually really good. The only problem is of course... umm... my lack of bulk. I'm not exactly wasting away but i'm just about 6 foot and only 10 stone so there really isn't much of me spread around. Compare this to the type of blokes I'm up against and well... it isn't a pretty picture at times. Having said that my record isn't bad. One game, one try, only a few mistakes :-) My first introduction to the game against Linley was being hit square on by a 14 stone monster outside center that, as I'm a wing, is technically supposed to be an equal for me. I thought I'd broken all my ribs, punctured both my lungs and given birth at the same time. It hurt. Having said that, being a wing means that I do hardly anything and only get beaten up about four times a match which isn't bad in comparison to most positions that are far more frequently abused. AND wingers are about 80% more likely to score :) The point of this dreadful whinge of a post? My second match is on Saturday (having been ill or away the last two weeks) so if I never blog again then that's why ;)

Listening to now: Smooth by Santana feat. Rob Thomas