"I'll regroup at Red Lobster"

It is in every Irishman's best interests to not fall asleep outside while laying out in the sun. Only a few results from this are possible and one of them is definitely not hilarity ensues. Unless you are one of the many that run into the severely sunburned. Yes, that's right folks, I have achieved a crispy outside...the ultimate sunburn.

I had gone golfing yesterday with Pa Cregg and had a few hours to kill yesterday before rugby 7's so it was decided that base camp was to be set up outside to see what sort of color this freckled skin could get. Clearly I had made the wrong choice as my 18 hole morning had tired me out a little more than anticipated and before the Toast could get more that ten pages into "The Great Shark Hunt", by Hunter S. Thompson, I was out cold. Not even the mix of random Clash, Pearl Jam, Tool, the Who, Chili Peppers, etc. blaring next to me could awaken me from my slumber.

Now, I had been out and about at random barbeques and trips to the lake that resulted in some sun hitting this Irish chest so there was some base of a tan to work with. It was because of this that I decided that sunscreen would be of no use to me. This would prove to be strike number two. As I laid passed out on my chair for close to three hours I'm not quite sure what neighbors thought. "What is this idiot doing" comes to mind but nonetheless I would receive no aid. Then, as quick as it happened in the first place, I woke up.

Still groggy I wandered around my house to get my bearings straight when I noticed that it was close to 5:30 and I had to head over to SU to meet up with my team for our second week of rugby 7's. Rugby is traditionally played with 15's, rugby 7's is just an off shoot version played with just seven, and boy, does it require a good amount of some running. The consequences of my afternoon nap hadn't really come full circle until I jumped into my jeep and put on my seatbelt. "Wow" I thought. That hurt a bit more than normal. It is now that I begin to notice that something is up. I later become fully aware of my situation during our first 7's game as I am tackled and a hand scrapes across my chest and stomach. Later, as part of my jersey rips from another tackle, I only see a red, almost purple Toast tummy exposed. Dangited! I still have a good two hours of this left. Every hit, every slide on the ground, every time I ran through arm tackles, every time I didn't, all of these equal near excrutiating pain. What's almost even worse than all of this, I still have a shower to look forward to.

All in all, this week was much better than the first week of 7's. No matter how much I ran during the two months plus off from rugby I still have yet to get my legs under me. I guess jogging a few miles every other day is not the same as running at near full speed for 20 minutes at a time. Oh well, it can only go up from here. I just have to make sure I start my next book indoors.