Woo hoo! Made my first leg across the country without any major bumps or bruises (meaning I slept the whole flight) and I’m officially in the Lonestar State. In the short hour that I’ve been here I’ve seen 3 cowboy boot wearing business men, 2 ACL knee braces, and way too much cowboy gear – but it’s all good here! I’m currently trying out the new blogger app on my phone which is pretty cool and means that I can blog on the go all the time! I definitely recommend it if you’re on the go like me 🙂 Next stop New York
Sista and I
Craziness at the gate
Momma
Update: Ughh our flight is delayed – so I decided to upload some pictures from our flight!
GOOD MORNING WORLD! Hope everybody’s day has gone off on the right foot. I received a lot of positive responses about live blogging my trip to Indy so I’m going to do the same on my way to New York. My day has been pretty swell so far (granted I haven’t sat next to any oversized smelly men yet). I woke up oh so effortlessly at o’dark thirty and quickly added more stuff to my overstuffed bag (in typical Meg Patten style). Once we hopped in the car and Twist dropped us off at the airport, my Mom and I were notified that one of my bags was eight pounds over while the other was eight pounds under – I know what you’re thinking – how amazing of a packer are you to exactly measure out the differences between the two bags? I don’t know but somehow I’m the queen of packing ( coronation will be on Sunday for any who would like to attend).
Anyways I’m about to board but just wanted to add a smiley picture to brighten up your day 🙂
It’s late Saturday night and I’m sitting in my very neat, packed-up room, lying on my bed, wondering – will this be the last time I get to do this? And by “this” I mean – spend a summer with my family, friends and of course, my two favorite dogs. Is this my last summer at home? Is this what growing up is like? Is this the end of an era? It’s definitely a question worth asking and definitely a question that will be the root of many future discussions.
With only a day and a half left until I leave for New York, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. I’ve been pondering my career goals and life aspirations, my successes and failures, but most importantly my current state of being. Simply said, I’ve been thinking about my past, present and future.
I was raised to be extremely independent and have grown used to operating on my own this past year; as a result, this summer has been anything but normal (for lack of a better word). The incessant pressures to act the same way as I did before college mounted higher than ever and the repetitive questions of “How was your season?” and “How do you like NYU?” just added sticks to the fire. Summer, for whatever reason, turned more into a job than a break from the constant rush of the city.
Coming back home to San Diego has definitely been a learning experience this summer and the learning curve has been very steep. Throughout the Summer I’ve compared stories with teammates and friends, and I’ve found one thing to be certain – coming home isn’t easy, but that doesn’t make leaving any easier.
This summer has been filled with a ton of great experiences including: my family visiting from around the world, a trip to Indiana, friends hanging out, road trips up to Los Angeles, and of course lounging on the boat. But New York is calling my name and is bound to be nothing short of craziness, a fast-paced lifestyle and my much needed dose of some “me” time to figure it all out.
Yes, I love San Diego and everything it has to offer, but I felt like I have come to the crossroads of my childhood and my future adulthood and I must take the next step into my life. As much as my parents don’t like it they need to realize it’s all part of me growing up. My independent side is yearning for adventure and quite honestly, I’m stuck here. I’ll be back in the Winter, for a few shorts days, perhaps even a few weeks, but the time has come for me to spread my wings and fly away from here.
Goodbye San Diego, you’ve been great. Next stop New York City.
If you guys are anything like me, chances are you’ve been glued to the TV the past couple of weeks. I’ve been simply captivated by the stories of all of the athletes; by every flip on the uneven bars, every kill on the court and of course every slide tackle on the soccer field. The Olympics are beautiful in a million different ways – the tears shed are compiled of a little more than hard work and dedication, and the smiles are purer than the gold medals hanging loosely around each neck.
Granted it’s only every four years, but the games are the epitome of everything I love in terms of entertainment – there’s tons of action and competitiveness, but the one thing that I find most compelling is the emotional side of the games. When the athlete that gave her all is on the sidelines hugging her mother, with a flag draped around her shoulders, after running the fastest 100 meters in world history – that’s when it hits me. That is the Olympic Games. That is what makes it so special. When the patriotism, the athleticism, and thankfulness of each athlete is combined, win or lose, it makes me tear up.
Pierre de Coubertain once said, “The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well.” This rings true in all that we do, especially when on a team. It’s hard not to get caught up in everything – everybody wants the “W” on their record, but it’s much more than that. I know that it’ll take me a long time to accept this concept, but nothing that I can’t begin working on now.
The Olympics have provided some much needed inspiration for me to go out and finish training for my 120’s, so I’m off to the field!
Hey everybody! Sorry for not posting in a while – I’ve been swamped with working, working out, and enjoying what’s left of my three weeks of summer break. Hope you enjoy today’s post.
This past weekend I drove up to Claremont to visit one of my best friends from college, Shelby, and her twin sister, Cassidy for their 19th birthday. We celebrated their last year before entering into their twenties with an elegant afternoon tea complete with scones, chocolate covered strawberries, and tiny sandwiches. After the par(tea) Shelby and I ventured into Pasadena to grab some FroYo and see Batman: The Dark Knight Rises, which got me thinking. While walking into the Arclight, I took note of the recent security precautions which included monitors in the bathrooms, all personnel on walkie-talkies, and a speech at the beginning of the movie about the recent events in Aurora, CO. Throughout Batman (which I definitely recommend), I constantly found myself scanning all four entrances and thinking about the victims, instead of enjoying the film. In light of the recent tragedy, I wanted to blog about the preciousness of life, and the impact this event has had on me.
Growing up, I was told Daddy would always come back from the war as I pointed to random helicopters in the sky – he always did, but not everyone is as lucky. I couldn’t imagine how much different my life would be if I had my Mom, Dad or Sister taken away early on like those in Colorado. I can only send my prayers and well wishes to those knee-deep in the tragedy, sitting bedside hoping their son or daughter will wake up, or those grieving their brother or sister amongst the hundreds media feeding upon their losses.
Life is short, shorter than I can convey in words but worth mentioning. I’m almost 20, a fourth done with my life (based on California life expectancy) , and although I’ve seen more than my fair share of the world, I can’t help but think “What haven’t I done?”My life is a roller coaster with no end, I don’t know when the next drop will be or how loud I scream – I’m like a child on Splash Mountain for the very first time.
To answer my question, “What haven’t I done?” I’ll tell you this: I haven’t lived. I’ve been “living” presuming my worth based upon the number of championships beneath my belt, the number of stamps in my passport and number of Facebook friends I have. It’s not about that though. As Dan Millman said in his book about his personal journey (our soccer required reading), “You can live a whole lifetime never being awake” – which is so true.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that from now on, I’ll be living as if my life depended on it, instead of going through the motions, reacting the way I’m expected to act, and doing things half-assed. I will be letting those I love know that they are cherished and reaching out to those who I’ve lost contact with, because God forbid, if any one of my friends or family were to die tomorrow I couldn’t bare to live with myself without letting them know how much they mean to me.
So if anything, give your parents a big hug tonight, text your cousin “Hey” and let a great professor know how much of an impact they’ve had on you because life has a crazy messed up way of working and we can never be certain of when that next big drop on the roller coaster of life is going to be.
Whenever people ask where I’m from, I always have to pause, take a deep breath, and then explain that home is where I’m at, not where I’m from, nor where I went to high school, or even where I was born. Growing up in the military, our go-to saying was “Home Is Where the Navy Sends You” – simply said and eloquently put, it’s true. And even though I’m currently from San Diego, I take pride in going to school in New York City. I’m in love with everything about it: the crazy people, the $1 pizza on the way home from a late water polo practice and the wackiness that is bound to be around each and every corner.
It’s not everyday that I’m reminded of why I love New York City, but while using Pinterest (my new found obsession) I somehow stumbled upon this video time lapse of the Big Apple. It truly does capture the essence of the city – the hustle and bustle, the sleeplessness, and beauty all around despite the concrete everywhere. I can only hope that my photography makes half of an impact on its viewers as Cameron Michael’s video did on me.
I still miss New York each and every day but am so excited to be back in the city – only 34 days and counting. In the meantime, here’s my five most favorite but most often overlooked things about New York (in no particular order).
The Crazy People On The Street (Mostly 6th Ave) – There are over eight million people in New York City but my favorite are the ones that like to yell to my friends and I when we’re walking about. While their lack of cleanliness drives me bonkers, these people are some of the true comedians in the city. They will remind you that your skirt may be too short or that you’re a sexy sista or even that your jacket is hideous (even if it did cost a pretty penny). They are the icing to the cake that is NYC and I pray for their health and safety every day because it wouldn’t be the Big Apple without em.
The Ability to Walk Everywhere (In Exceptionally Gorgeous Shoes) – Manhattan is only 13 miles long and 2.3 miles wide – bet you didn’t know that, did ya? And with a million little streets to explore, the best way to see all of them is to walk. Even though the double decker bus tours are great for getting a broad overview of the city and its many villages, the only way to get a true feel for the city is to step on the cracks of the sidewalk and waltz past some of the original stores and restaurants buried in the depths of the city in your favorite Louboutins.
The Secrets – New York is one of the most famous, if not the most well known city in the world, but underneath the surface lie many secrets and stories that have yet to be uncovered. As a self proposed “Adventurist” I LOVE the fact that NYC is still rich in history that has yet to be exploited by millions of tourists.
You Will Never Be the Worse Dressed (or Best Dressed) Person – As a yoga-pant-wearing-messy-bun-sporting girl I love being able to roll out of bed five minutes before class, throw on some sweats and walk confidently out of my room knowing that there WILL, without a doubt, be somebody dressed worse than I am (unless I decide to dress like the photo below). The downside to this is that there is always going to be somebody dressed better than you, even if you’re a Victoria’s Secret Angel.
The Pride – Whether it’s pride for being gay or pride for your sports teams (Go Rangers!), New Yorkers are extremely passionate and go all out for something they love. Being the sports fanatic that I am, I am in love with the fact that there are so many sports teams in the New York Area and I personally believe that NY fans are the best – trust me on this one (and if you don’t believe me, go to a Rangers Hockey Game).
Quote of the Day: “The City is not a concrete jungle, it is a human zoo” – Desmond Morris
Let’s flash back a decade (Wow – typing that made me feel super old!), I was nine years old and loving the third grade. Our family was living on Gambrill Ct. in Northern Virginia and down the street lived the Krafts, some very good family friends. Looking back, it seemed we did everything together like one big family – we rode to school, went to football games, and played out in the back together.
You Could Say We’re Cool
Even though I was a girl scout by uniform, I was always more of a boy scout. I tended to go to the weekly meetings at their house in the cul-de-sac on a pretty regular basis, enough to the point where I could pitch a tent faster than you can say “Be Prepared”. But what I do remember of my glorious girl scout days is singing “Make New Friends, But Keep the Old…” in part of our meetings. It truly is important to stay in touch with old pals while constantly trying to make new friendships.
Hanging with The Boys
Just the other night I was once again reunited with the same childhood family friends in Coronado. The Kraft’s had recently flown in from Chesapeake, VA back to California where they had previously lived for a vacation. The once San Diego Padre family (now Washington National fans to my dismay) was sitting on all sides of me and it seemed like it was just yesterday on Gambrill Court. While at dinner we reminisced of the “good ole days” where my sister and I would try to hang with the boys – and damn right we did. We would play war out in the back and even dressed up in boys clothes because we had ruined everything else we had.
Yep – wearing boys clothes
And although years had past since our families had been together, everything took off right where we had left it. Anton was still the responsible one (currently in VA because he was responsibly working instead of hanging with us), Colton was still the quiet one in the corner cracking jokes, Lolita was the same loving and welcoming second mother and Andy, was still the same old rambunctious sports fanatic (minus being a Nats fan- still not cool).
Over 10 years ago…
Less than a couple of years ago my Dad and I had visited the Kraft’s and a few other family friends on one of my recruiting visits back East. It was amazing to see how close of bonds we still shared and how easy it was to pick up where we had left off when I had moved only a decade earlier (though I think FB has a lot to do with it). I think when you can stop by out of the blue and feel completely at home is when you’ve found some quality pals.
Part of the Kraft-Patten Crew circa 2009
Over the past week we’ve shared more laughs than I think I can handle, more Mexican food than is good for me, and met new friends for life. Here’s to many more years of friendship and many more memories to cherish – love you guys!
This past week has been great. Besides the gorgeous weather and the fact that it finally feels like summer, my twinny/teammate/best friend, Phebe, came down for a few days to visit. It seemed like an eternity since I had last seen her, but in reality it had been less than 30 days. What is it with time seeming to go by really fast?
Matching Twins
Anyways, we spent four lovely days together exploring San Diego, getting tan, and just having a big adventure. Seeing as Phebe is from NorCal and doesn’t have beautiful beaches to sprawl out on, we made the most of her trip and spent numerous hours laying out (and burning just a little bit). Aside from taking her to the #1 beach in the United States, Coronado’s Central Beach, we ventured to La Jolla (hello tourists) and to Del Mar (hello parking nightmare) to give her the complete SD experience. Her trip was not complete without a little joyride around the military base where we found jets and helicopters out of their hangars and some good ole Mexican food from my Mamcita and Miguel’s (of course!). Having Pheebz around made everything seem normal again – we jammed out every morning to “Good Day” by Nappy Roots, ate, worked out, and did everything together. We are partners in crime to say the least.
Enjoying the Surf, Sun and Sand
While Phebe was in town I realized how lucky and thankful I am to be living in San Diego and in such close proximity to so many awesome natural wonders. Where else in the world can I spend my mornings Surfing and then drive a couple hours be snowboarding (granted there is snow in Big Bear)? Central, 19th street, Shores, and Blacks are just some of San Diego’s greatest wonders where the white sand meets the green foam of the sea. It truly is a gorgeous sight and recommend anybody coming to California to sneak a peek.
Loving La Jolla
After four short days it was sad to see my beach buddy head back home, but in less than 6 weeks we shall be reunited again, except under less fortunate-fitness-related circumstances, but reunited nonetheless. Until then, stay sunny San Diego.
The past couple of weeks my Facebook has been inundated with pictures from the class of 2012’s graduation pictures, and I couldn’t help but think that it seems like yesterday that I was among the seven hundred-something students walking across the stage at Viejas Arena. It seems like only hours ago that I was boarding the plane for the first time, bound for New York City for NYU Freshman Orientation. And it seems as if this whole year passed by in a single New York Minute, but I guess in a way it has. Each and every single memory has been compressed into a tiny piece of information, stored away in my brain, only to be brought to surface again by a picture, a sound, or smell. It’s crazy to think how much I have experienced in a year, but I think it’s even crazier to think that I cannot even measure how great of a year it was, not by the number of wins or losses, nor smiles and tears that marked my face. I guess its not about the journey, rather about the people you meet along the way.
Love my club girls
Looking back, this year’s been great. Graduation, a trip to Europe, getting cleared to play, the beginning of college, an ECAC Championship, and so much more has happened in a little less than 365 days. But when I take away everything that happened, I find myself thinking about everyone who made it happen. As a military brat, I learned early on that the best way to survive the long deployments and constant moving was to have a strong support system, anchored by your family and friends who were going through the same thing. I employed the same tactics throughout the rest of my life in every challenge I encountered, because it simply worked. Being the social butterfly that I am, making new friends was never a problem, especially being on a team. For anybody that has been part of any team or unit, I think you understand when I say that the people you spend that much time become your family. You can do silly things in front of them, tell them your deepest and darkest secrets, and even conquer the world with them because they are with you through the thickest and thinnest of times. As for me, my teammates are my sisters, best friends, and some of the coolest people I’ve ever met. They’ve influenced me in more ways than I’d like to share and know more about me than I probably know about myself. So in honor of all of those teammates, I would like to dedicate this blog to them and share a few stories about them.
Part of our Freshman Class
During high school, I played for the San Diego Surf Soccer Club. Club soccer is interesting in the way that each person on your team is not only competing for a spot on the field but also on a college roster, it’s every man for themselves and can get a little cutthroat. Although I wasn’t on any given team for more than a year because I was a goalkeeper playing up (age-wise) I made a number of friends that I still keep in touch with to this day. I figure when you tear your ACL and your teammates are there, it’s sort of hard to get rid of the ones who held your hand when you were writhing in pain. These girls not only helped me during my whole ACL recovery (which is an entirely different story in itself) but were my bestest of friends in high school. We may not remember the wins and losses now, but we do remember the times we fell down laughing at each other in practice and super long road trips to exotic locations like Lancaster and Las Vegas (please note the sarcasm).
Captains
When I moved to New York the first people I met were my teammates. Rewind back to August…we’re all sitting in the Coles Conference Room for the first time as a team. I looked around the room and saw not only my teammates for the next season, but best friends, future bridesmaids and sisters for life. In the matter of only a few weeks, we had formed friendships that would normally take years to build.A few ice breakers and fitness tests later, we were more than just teammates. We bonded over doing extra running and the sun pounding down on our backs during two-a-days. Although we spent our first few days in New York dealing with extreme heat, an earthquake, and a hurricane, I wasn’t clicking my cleats together wishing I was back home. I was home, with 23 new best friends by my side.
My Sisters
I think it’d be fair to say that we’ve had a decent amount of adventures this past year. Ranging from our numerous travel issues to the All-Athlete Auction to even sitting in the training room catching up on everything that had happened since we had last seen each other. We’ve hung out in waiting rooms, patiently waiting for teammates to emerge from their surgeries, we’ve held each other in warm embraces when tears fall down our faces, and we’ve seen each other at our best and worst. We’ve done it all together.
Through Rain, Sleet, and Snow
Coming home this Summer I felt I experienced more changes than I ever have in any of my global moves. I wasn’t used to having a room to myself all the time or working out alone. A part of me was missing when I came home. It just goes to show that the people whom you surround yourself with are truly monumental in every little thing you do. I truly think the team does not get enough credit in a success of any given athlete. Sure, the parents drive the kids to practice, and the coach teaches them how to play but it’s the other girls on the field who push, inspire and persevere together.
One Team. One Dream.
Quote of the Week: “Scars heal, glory fades, and all we are left with are the memories made.” – Chris Cagle
Hello everybody – I know it’s been awhile since I’ve last posted but I’ve been busy with my internship and workouts. Regardless, I thought I should update everybody on my newest endeavor: YOGA.
When I used to think of yoga, the first things that came to my mind were breathing exercises, stretching, and soothing sounds. After my first couple of yoga classes, the things that now come to mind are headstands, the splits, and drops of sweat rolling past my brow into my eyes. It’s an experience entirely foreign to me, and quite frankly, I didn’t expect to be that hard. Turns out I was a tad wrong.
Being the incredibly inflexible soccer player that I am, I took up yoga to increase my flexibility and to improve my focusing and breathing skills because I thought it’d help in goal. As I walked into the Core Power Yoga Studio in Pacific Beach for Intro to Heated Yoga 1.5, I had my chin up, confident in my abilities as an athlete. I completely blew off the fact that the studio recommended that I take a few yoga classes before because I was a soccer player, and thoughts soccer players could do anything. My sanguine self thought too highly of itself and I ended up walking out of that class more sore than I had bargained for. Maybe it’s the athlete or even just the competitive side of me, that totally disregarded the fact that yoga is an athletic activity and requires some sort of athleticism and coordination – and everybody should know that I am the most uncoordinated girl around. I love a workout that makes you sweat and all of my previous yoga experience had turned me off because they were slow and comprised of me mostly laying on a mat counting my breaths, “ohmming” to myself, and closing my eyes – it put me to sleep faster than you can say “downward dog”.
The point is, I used to think that yoga was a sport activity for sissies because I had seen videos like this, but now I have the utmost respect because yoga is hard, like really, really, really hard. Hopefully next time you see me I’ll be able to do this, but until then, namaste.
