As the saying goes: “give the people what they want.”  And here it is, week two of nonstop Shan sports coverage. Now I know you haters gonn’ hate and that’s fine, just stop reading and click that handy little “x” in the top corner. But to all my true and loyal readers, this one’s for you guys. The best of the best. So let’s dive in, both literally and figuratively, to explore the wonders and worries of the early morning practice lifestyle.

Now depending on the person, “early” has numerous definitions. Scotty McComas (’12) gets up most mornings at the crack of dawn to go surfing before school (granted that’s by choice and he’s a boss Rick Ross at it). By contrast, Michael Augustine (’12) rises around one or so in the afternoon each weekend. Seeing the light of day before 10 would be criminal for him. (Okay Mike. So maybe you played freshman basketball and had morning practices. So I’ll give you that. But once you see the rest of this you know I will have achieved winner-take-all warrior status in terms of surviving a rigorous practice schedule). And then there’s the majority of the Paly student body, which believes that rising at 7:30 to go to school for six and a half hours per day is possibly the worst thing ever. (Or the best thing ever – glass half full vs. glass half empty! A little Dalai Lama insight there.)

Trust me, world. I know what it means to be up before the crickets are chirping, when the full moon outside looks like it is beckoning to werewolves and your brain’s functioning capacity is still middle-of-the-night status.  Oh yes. Imagine your alarm going off at 5:30 a.m., after getting five hours of sleep, then trotting out of bed, forcing a too tight swimsuit over your hips and moving sloth-like out of the house to go swim 4,000 yards at a sprint. Yes, readers, this has been my life four out of the past five days this week, and lemme tell you – it was a struggle. I was falling asleep on Peter Dennis (’12) every Viking period and practically zonking out every time a flat surface was within a five foot radius of me. I walked around like a zombie from class to class, at times I couldn’t even form sentences. It was getting bad. Just ask any eyewitnesses.

So why do this to myself? Why slave until my shoulder nearly falls off to the point where I need to strap it with medical tape and ice to keep it from detaching from my body? (Don’t believe me? See photo, fools.) Believe it or not, it is not only for my beloved warrior status (though don’t get me wrong – it’s always nice to remind myself that each day I have accomplished a lot more than most people, AKA a workout that should be assigned to Gerard Butler’s character in 300). No, readers. I do this for my team. For my sport. For my passion. As corny as it sounds, you know it’s the truth. We all have passions, be they sporty or not, and we all work hard to pursue them and succeed. And for those lazy souls who are playing XBOX on the couch all night: get up! Find something to motivate yourself! It may surprise you, and trust me when I say it is rewarding. So there it is, your souvenir for talking to Shans here for the day. Until next time, Paly… Scheel is out.