Happy. Sad.

Well, club volleyball season is officially over.

Yea.

Boo.

And I'm kind of sad.

In a sick, warped way.

It has been all-consuming. It has consumed time, gas, money, emotion, energy and sleep.

But it has been fun.

And it's sad that I know that a certain chain hotel's breakfast only has biscuits on Sundays but not Saturdays.

We wrapped it up in Louisville, Kentucky this weekend.

That is not near here. In fact, that's a haul-butt and a half drive from here.

Plus, it's on Eastern time. Which I hate.

Anyhoo, here is the club season by the numbers:

7 tournaments

4 different states

3,629 miles travelled

2 torn ligaments

4 weeks with a boot and physical therapy

32 containers of Jif to go peanut butter consumed

5 batches of puppy chow prepared

3 travel sized tubes of toothpaste eliminated

4 hotels with free wi-fi

1 championship medal

Plus, the cases of water, cups of bad hotel coffee, bleacher-sitting induced back aches, and interstate traffic delays are undefinable.

Oh, and don't forget the stinky kneepads.

Good times people.

Good times.

I miss it already.