It's been months since tryouts. I am a Blue Ridge Rollergirl. I made it. A summer of busting my ass, and this dream has been realized. If there are words, I have yet to find them. This one, in it's original state, describes the experience quite well:
Awesome: [aw-suhm]
–adjective
1. inspiring awe: an awesome sight.
2. showing or characterized by awe.
I want to write about what it was like going to a practice with the vets. Walking into Skater's Choice as a Blue Ridge Rollergirl, but definitely FRESH MEAT. We have to earn everything, as it should be. It has been hard. I will climb and sweat and work my way to the A-Team. When I have more words, I will write. Until then, I will just keep skating and working and hitting and fighting to get there.
So much is going on right now. I am practicing like crazy, upping the ante, spending a lot of time (I know, I know) VISUALIZING making the team. I read roller derby blogs like my life depends on it.
Upping the ante: practicing jumps!
Anytime someone tentatively asks..."how's derby going?" I burst with happiness and try to act like a normal person talking about a normal thing. But really? I want to tell them all of it. How much I love skating. How I am getting more comfortable in my skates, but still have so far to go. How I mastered turning around. How my wrists smell after practice (awful). What the fellowship is like with these rad new women I am meeting and dreaming and sweating with. About the hours I have spent dreaming of bouting, jamming, hitting, and, of course, derby names.
After hours of painstaking deliberation (no joke) about a derby name, I think I am going with T-Wrex. For now. I made a cute little logo to go with it, so it may stick:I did a photoshoot that, if published in Nat Geographic or wherever, would be titled something like, "An Evening as a Derby Newbie." Here are some of the shots:
Tryouts are in 11 days and counting. I haven't wanted something like I want this in a long time. Especially something that involves exercise. It feels amazing.
11 more days.
Monday, August 16, 2010
I got my Fugitives today -- !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I have been having a lot of trouble skidding/slipping on my curves lately. I am trying to up my speed, but I lay off when I feel my wheels slide, so it is affecting my time. Then: A sweet guardian angel of mine had a set of Fugitives sent to me for my birthday! I got them today and I can definitely feel a difference. There is a still a little slip but not the few inches I was feeling before. I really pushed into the curves tonight and it felt great! I am so excited to skate more on them...I am so very lucky to have the supportive friends that I do.
Last night was my first night as an official NSO (Non-Skating Official). Mallory and I went to a Monday night practice of the BRRG to learn the ropes. We were like little kids going to the water park the weekend before the Monday practice. It's all we could text or talk about. I am a very visual learner, so I feel like somewhere, in the deep recesses of my mind, notes are being taken on form, moves, footwork, etc. Liquor Possi, a ref, and Hippie Check, a former skater, went over penalty tracking with us in depth, and then we got to try it out with a quick scrimmage. Aside from getting dizzy following the team around and around (penalty trackers stand within the rink; the donut hole if you will, rather than the donut), trying to remember all of the penalty codes (X = Cutting Track, E = Elbows, O = Out Of Bounds Blocking, F = Forearms (or hands!), and so on and so forth) while getting them in the right part of the chart, and remembering on which jam we were...it was overwhelming at first. But fascinating. It's like learning a whole new aspect of the game. It is a bit nerve wracking when you think about it too much (like everything with derby!), because you can really mess up a game if you miss the penalties called, or write them down incorrectly. Thank god they used pencils rather than pens!
So Mallory and I headed to Greensville, SC to do penalty tracking at the BRRG B-Team's French Broads vs. The U.R.G.E. It's one step closer to being in the rink, one more aspect of the game to know inside and out, one more way to watch as much derby as is humanly possible with a 6-day-a-week work schedule.
Are all skate rinks unbelieveably tacky?
Mallory and I thought that perhaps it would be more helpful if we had the ref hand signals memorized, so she printed them out and we tried to go over them on the way to the bout. Turns out it was not helpful, but I want to know them anyway so I am glad we studied them.
It was really great. I almost peed myself several times when refs were circling and yelling out numbers, colors and penalties. It's all so fast. I definitely broke into a sweat and got what jam we were on mixed up several times. But I am learning so much that I believe will help me when I finally (FINALLY) begin bouting. I want to be there for every game. There is one this Saturday, but the Knoxville game is the Saturday after and I am NOT missing that one. Two Saturday's off...will work allow it? I think I will ask and see. It makes me so happy to watch and be a part of this sport. And to wear fishnets of course. And to enter through the same door as the skaters. Oh my, I am obsessed, I simply must stop.
For the first time, I had to drag my ass out to skate. The temp neared 100 today, and I just don't fare well in the heat. There is no AC in my home, so I spent the day in front of a fan with a pit bull panting beside me. I get depressed when I don't have a schedule, a routine, a purpose, which probably says something negative about me, but I'll pretend otherwise.
It had been two days since my last (awesome, bruise-filled, tear-up) night skating, which is close to a record for me. The only other time I think I took that much time off was when I fell on my tailbone. And maybe when I hit my head. That hurt. So, I lugged my sweaty self to the rink. Mood: Foul.
I took my sweet time suiting up, which takes a decent amount of time as it is. I took a phone call. I stretched. I got water from the fountain. I watched the basketball players miss shot after shot. Then I did a 5 minute endurance skate, and I use that word loosely. Endurance is relative, really. I only had half the rink and when you hit the middle there is some warping, so I wasn't going full-out. In fact I doubt I was even going half-out. But after a few minutes it felt so good to be out there! I am finding my feet, and some days little things just click into place. Like when I finally turned around. When my crossovers suddenly got a lot smoother. When I hit my stride one day and got going really fast...before falling on my tailbone and feeling like I could simultaneously pee myself or throw up. My skates are beginning to feel like a second skin.
At the end of my 5 minutes Koco and Laney-Dee showed up. Perfect timing. We did some suicides and some weaving and a few more endurance skates. The sweat was impressive.
But, somehow, somewhere in there between massive Poweraid consumption and catch-up on how much we hate Bele Chere, I began to feel better. As we stripped off out stinky knee gaskets and soaking wrist guards, I felt ok for the first time in a few days. Now I am back in front of the fan with italian ice and chocolate chip cookies because, damn, I deserve it.
Tonight was the night! HITTING! What we all have been waiting for! Wowyeswow!
But, first, the rink. A rain storm hit right before I went to Carrier, and the rink was full of tiny rivers. But, fear not! The three of us took towels and went to work dispersing the water. As we rung out wet towels the park guy came with a squeegee to assist. It was sans water in no time. Towels drying in the evening light, we stretched and did some warm up laps.
The washing of the rink.
There were four of us. Three played pivot, and/or blockers, and one played jammer. As the sun sagged behind the mountains we skated together, communicating with yells and light touches on arms. I was still hurting from the workout yesterday, and I could feel my thighs aching to catch up with my mind. The previous day we did exercises to strengthen our "core" while we waited for the Wednesday night hockey game to disperse. A ref called Icon was out with us and quizzed us on penalties and rules as we did planks and other fun stuff.
Tonight we worked together in a way we had yet to do. Pushing, slamming, falling. Our wheels skimmed off of each other as we humbled ourselves with new techniques. Icon called out penalties and gave us tips. He redrew the lines of the derby-sized track, as the rain had washed the chalk into little trails leading away from the main circle.
Icon drawing the lines
Sweaty shoulders met sweaty shoulders. I landed on my ass in the same place twice. It is numb now. Nicole's head bounced off the ground. We high-fived each other for good falls, nice blocks, and great ass usage.
I love how derby engages your mind. Look behind, watch to make sure you aren't out of bounds, try to anticipate where the jammer might go, watch your teammates, look for a hole in the pack, stay in bounds, keep forearms and elbows tucked, be in derby form, watch, watch, watch. My bones are jarred and my body aches, but I can't wait to get out there again. I'll be blocking in my dreams tonight, for sure.
All I can think about is skating. Form, wheels, socks, laces, toe guards, form, form and form. And sporadically thrown in: Will it rain today and keep me from skating? I read the sky obsessively, and have a Firefox browser tab constantly open to weather.com.
Clouds rolling in at the rink.
One night I was running late but wanted to get out and skate some endurance exercises before dark. After I suited up, the rain began. Koco, Ima Killya and I laid down and did sit ups and back exercises under a heavy sky as the rain peppered our faces.
Rain on the rink
I can feel my legs getting stronger. But, as with most things worth having, the more I learn, the more I realize I don't know. I head out to the rink most nights around 7 - 7:30. The sun is still hot at that point, so I and whomever is out that night, try to warm up without overheating. I sweat like a motherfucker. Around 8:30 the sun dips low and I finally feel like I can get a decent workout in. We do suicides (begin laying down, GO at full spread to the halfway mark on the rink, do a double-knee fall, get up, skate to the end of the rink, fall on all four, turn around and do single-knee falls on the way back, and a 180 at the end which usually ends with us laying on the dirty rink floor again -- but only because we can no longer stand.) Poison SueSMAC introduced me to endurance skates where you go full on for 5 minutes and I really think that is helping. The BRRG girls have been so kind and welcoming. I want to thank them by kicking ass at the tryouts.
I love it. I have never felt this way about a sport. Tonight my derby baby sister Mallory (Eve L. HeartbreakHer) attended an open scrimmage in Hendersonville. We were able to watch the BRRG in a practice bout. It was my first time watching roller derby since I began to skate myself. I think I am a very visual learner, and I learned so much during those two hours. Seeing their smooth crossovers, how they use the oval rink space, watching them HIT (can't wait), seeing all the falling (worried about lack of health insurance), and the competitive nature of the sport. I was sad when it ended.
Mallory and I spent the 45 minute ride home writing down everything we saw so we can incorporate moves and warm ups into our practices. I swear I was so excited I almost peed myself. I can't wait to be out with the big kids!
I am meeting amazing woman, sweating through knee gaskets, pads, and socks, getting healthy and in shape and having a blast. It works my mind and my body to the max. I didn't know exercise could be fun. My tailbone still aches from when I fell 2 weeks ago for absolutely no reason, and my head aches from time to time from when it bounced off the rink floor, reminding me that I have a responsibility to my body through all of this.
I am snapping laces, and my gear is finally looking like it is used for what it is designed. My beloved unicorn, argyle, and whale socks are wearing thin, so with more excitement than is deemed sane I hit Target for more. I own four sports bras now, which is a lifetime record. My toe guards and knee pads are lookin' loved, and I dream on skates. Poweraid is my new drink of choice, and I go through it like a teenage boy.
I apologize to the people I never see anymore. The first meeting Candy Korn said, "We're not saying it's a cult, but we will make you wear funny clothes, change your name and never see your real family again." I am determined to be a member, even if they don't know it yet.
With my new $2 socks (hearts, some stripes and, duh, argyle), I will head out to the rink tomorrow and work even harder. I have roughly one month until tryouts, and I need every minute.
They are beginning to look like real, derby girl skates! I keep breaking my laces and tying them higher and higher up. I think I need to just get new ones.
I think the thing I dislike the most about roller derby is that you can’t spit on the floor. How do you do a sport without spitting?
Luckily that is minor and overlookable.
I went out on the rink last Thursday, planning on getting a good hour in before a meeting I had to attend. It hit 95 degrees that day, but I figured it would be cooler at 6 pm. It wasn’t.That, combined with the fact that I had barely eaten all day made me quite pathetic on wheels. This was my first day of walking like an upright citizen once more, after hunching and stepping lightly using as few of my aching muscles as possible for about three days. This past post-boot camp week was hell. I wanted to keep skating but it really hurt, and I couldn’t even lift my foot do to a crossover.Last Thursday, I believe I lasted around 20 minutes, tops. But they say everything is for a reason, and perhaps my reason was to run into Mallory.
Mallory and her sister were just leaving the rink and we spoke for a moment about practicing together but neglected to exchange numbers. Much to my excitement, she found me on facebook and we decided to skate together on Saturday night. My first derby sister friend!
Upon reading my obnoxiously excited facebook posts about my newly formed derby obsession, a friend from undergrad messaged me. She used to skate with a woman on the BRRG, Maya Rulez. When I met Maya and brought up our mutual friend, she clapped her hands together exclaiming, “Dana and I were derby babies together!” When I skated with Mallory on Saturday, I kept thinking, someday we will talk about being derby babies! This was a very exciting prospect, mainly because, in my mind, when we are clapping our hands and remembering these weeks of hot summer night practices in Carrier Park, we will be formidable, in-shape bona-fucking-fide derby girls.
But we still have a way to go. My 20 minute practice on Thursday left me feeling lousy, out of shape, and down. I did all the self pep talks and took Friday off. Saturday, Mallory and I met at 7 and practiced everything we could remember. We compared boot camp experiences and I found I was not the only one about to pass out as the BRRG women skated circles around us. We practiced falling, getting up, skating fast, crossovers (she is the reigning queen) and taking breaks. It was one of the best times I have had out at Carrier. I get so bored and in my head when I practice alone.
And tonight, there were four! Delaney and Coco joined us and we had a hard, 1.5 hour workout. How fun is it to be goofy and learn from other beginner skaters! We critiqued each other (“Emily! DERBY STANCE!”); wove, and ran into, around water and gatorade bottles; compared equipment, spoke of our dream skates and how thankful we are for our knee gaskets. We tried out derby name ideas and traded tips. We were red faced and dripping sweat, turning left and right to call out the number of fingers Mallory’s boyfriend, Tensey, was holding up as he skated behind us (to practice focusing behind).We giggled and fell and slid I swear I had more fun than I have in some time.
Aside from getting into shape, I am unbelievably psyched to grow and work with a community of strong, awesome women. This weekendwas a glimpse of what my summer is going to bring. Lots of sweat, bruises, and laughter. Red faces, empty water bottles, and broken laces.
I got home and was full of energy. I swept and mopped the house, cleaned the toilet, fed the dogs, did the dishes, took out the garbage and recycling and did a load of laundry. I felt content. Antioch instilled in me such a need for community, and everywhere I go I build one, person by person, friendship by friendship. This could be my best yet.
This post is dedicated to my best friend and the girl who inspired me every day to be a tough, bad ass lady. Bela, you are missed.
Holy shit. I thought getting back on the horse would help ease the pain from falling off the horse. Or whatever. I mean, I know I fell off the horse on purpose, but wouldn't the cure be the same?
I hobbled to the rink this hot and sweaty southern June night to get back on that proverbial horse. There was an older gentleman there with his grandson playing soccer, but they cleared out when I began my stretches. He sat on the bench and we chatted for a minute. He was excited to hear that I was going to try out for the BRRG team and told me, "If you're strong and you're tough, you'll make it." I am the latter, but still working on the former. And tonight? Not feeling so tough. It is hard to look like you are strong and/or tough when your thighs hate you.
Every crossover felt like my skates weighed 100 pounds. I tried to practice falling and got myself back up only due to the fact that the grandpa was watching. Otherwise I swear I would still be laying there.
After a while it felt a little bit easier, and I made myself push through it. That said, I was off the rink and out of my pads in under one minute when I saw lightening strike suddenly and the clouds began rolling in. I made it home just before the downpour, and just in time to comfort the shaking, panting pit bull and the old big brown dog pacing on three legs as I changed and made dinner.
My old husky/shepherd girl, bela, has a nerve tumor that is causing her muscles to waste away. She no longer uses her left front leg for anything and hops around like a large, hairy 85 pound bunny. When she goes from a laying position to a full down position on her side, she just kind of collapses due to her no longer having a trapezius muscle. You can hear her head hit the floor from any room in the house. It is heartbreaking, but she doesn't seem to mind, and aside from strapping a pillow to her head I am not sure how to help her.
That is how I sit down now. I go lower, lower, loooower, and WHUMP I collapse into the chair/bed/bench. No control, no grace. It hurts. I just begged my dear roommate to go get something for me just so I wouldn't have to repeat the whole unattractive scene again. Me and bela. The 105 year old and I.
And tonight I discovered by pure accident that I have been wearing my wrist guards backwards. This explains why I have bruises on my arms from where, when I practiced a full on-all-fours-fall, the guards were slamming into my skin. Check. Noted. Fixed. Think I am going to need new ones anyway...the rubber(?) is coming off from using them (albeit incorrectly) only one night.
I hope I sleep tonight. Tomorrow I am going to eat 25 bananas, I swear.
It's the morning after. It's not as bad as I thought, but I still can't walk right. My thighs have been beaten. Candy said that the derby stance (low) would make it hard to sit on a toilet for awhile and, man, she was right. But it was amazing! The BRRG ladies demonstrated what we are going to have to do for the tryouts at the end of August, and then we had the opportunity to practice them and ask questions. Skating on all 8 wheels, falling on all fours, then landing on left knee and right knee, weaving, cutting, stepping, etc. I thought I might die. My legs were a puddle of jelly after an hour. I have so far to go but I plan to go there quickly. I could feel my body learning and adjusting as the boot camp progressed. I am going to be doing balance exercises while I brush my teeth, and calf exercises while I order my coffee.
I didn't sleep last night. I figured I would be out like a light, but I couldn't stop playing out the moves in my head, trying to make them familiar. Around 5 am I got up and ate a sandwich. I am going to have to ingest more calories for sure.
Heading out to Carrier park tonight. I can't wait.
PS: I love falling. Why is that?
PPS: As for names? I am leaning towards Shady Gaga. Also: Alpha RollHer and Em Fatale. But there is just so much you could do with a Lady Gaga reference....
Tonight was my second time on skates in full pads in a public rink. The fact that I was about to skate again, paired with the news of Susie's Law being passed today, put a big smile on my face.
I walked up to the rink to find 3 boys chillin', ages 7-10ish. The brutal honesty of a youngun' scares me almost as much as my friend telling me today I spoke in a southern accent not only twice, but even when she asked me to repeat myself. I repeated myself IN a southern accent. How did this happen so quickly? Who am I?
But, I digress.
I approached the rink and the short kid with the chubby face asked me what I was going to do in the rink and, indeed, what the rink was even for. We cleared up that mystery and moved on to whether I would race them. Considering a) I suck and, b) it had recently rained and I was going to have to use whatever concentration I was not directing towards staying upright on avoiding puddles, I had to decline. I also told them about the fact that they may very well witness me falling on my ass (not in those words). I was so nervous and took my time suiting up. The little round-faced guy kept saying, "Are you ready yet?" When I told him, again, that I was not at all good at this he said -- get this -- "I bet you're really good." I melted. Into a puddle onto the rotten-smelling concrete floor. I repeated my original statement, to which he responded, "I bet you're good at everything you do." Seriously, folks. Where was he in high school when my guidance counselor told me I would never get into the colleges to which I was applying (ps, I did)?
I gingerly teetered out on the surface and began my "rounds". His big brother (?) decided to race with me. He kept panting, "you are so fast" and I had to remind him that I was on wheels. Oh, it was such a beautiful, cheeseball moment when I let him win.
The water on the rink surface made it difficult to do a lot, so I practiced my plow stops (I didn't wipe out this time, but I can definitely see where I need more muscles) and T-stops (I still go in circles). I worked on starting off fast, skating low, skating on one foot (I veer off to one side or the other), and the unfortunately dubbed "Tomahawk stop" (look it up). I don't even know what to practice yet, so I had fun making up my own drills.
I felt myself get more assured on skates, and learned the hard way what happens when you let go TOO much and hit something with your wheel (not pretty). And I tried little jumps over standing water from the late afternoon thunderstorms. Oh, le sigh, I loved it all. As the puddles dried in the evening heat I went around and around and around.
So I knew of roller derby, but it concerned me little. No insurance, I thought, equals no hardcore sports. It existed in the same states and same social circles as I, but for some reason I shut it out. Did I know it would be an immediate addiction? Perhaps I was scared or perhaps I was just not ready.
After moving to Asheville, I attended a bout of the Blue Ridge Roller Girls. Nicole and Alexa patiently explained the sport to me from our suicide seats. I was hooked. I mean, seriously? How could anyone not be. First: Roller skates. Second: Agressive girls. Third: (I know, I know) Fishnets. Who could say no?
I could barely sit still in my seat I was so excited. I wanted it. Badly.
I went home and researched everything I could about derby. I signed up for the Fresh Meat email list so I would know the second they were having tryouts. I attended one more bout but found it difficult to be on the sidelines -- I couldn't wait to get out there. I approached a pretty girl holding a sign that said something like "Wanna be a rollergirl? Ask me how!" and tentatively asked her if they had had the Fresh Meat tryouts yet. Maybe the email had gone to my spam? Nope, not yet.
Months went by with no word on the tryouts. I wondered if they somehow knew I was out of shape and deleted my email from their list. I signed up again. I left a message on their Facebook page.
Then, I heard. Dates were announced. I began asking around about which skates were recommended, etc, and seriously begin to budget (as much as I ever do). Then a miracle happened in the name of a woman we'll just call Kathleen "KC" Cushing. A little note in my inbox stating "I want to get the skates for you as your early birthday present" changed everything. Someone believed in me! At first I said no...it is way too much money. And I still think it is. Then I thought, if ever there would be an impetus to get me moving, it is when someone spends money on me. The guilt of not using skates someone purchased for me, out of pure love, would propel my lazy ass around the track if nothing else would. And then several other incredible, generous ladies from my old Chicago community chipped in. Alycia, Dori, Leslie, and Regan. They ALL thought I could do this! I am still aghast.
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