Ouchie ow wow

My legs are revolting against me. My inner thighs sear with ripped pain every time I go down stairs or go up stairs or take a step. And sitting down to go to the bathroom? That's the worst. Yes - this is what speed skating class does to me. The first hour of off-skates lower body exercises, sprinkled with random heart-pumping strength training, tire me out. Then I'm expected to pull on my pads over my pre-sweatied skin to begin skating for an hour straight. My legs all a-jello, my technique non-existent, I do my best to stay mobile and not give up. For a while, I stay in the "vets" line, pushing myself to keep up and feeling heartbroken the second I lagged behind and a vet scolds me. I get water, stretch my cramping feet, and then skate around the track by myself, behind the vet line, still participating but by alone in my slowness. If I start to get too sedentary, I rejoin the vet line, push myself, and then slip away before I get too frustrated and discouraged. When Fresh Meat are around, I join the Fresh Meat line, so I can continue at a pace and feel more like I belong. I tell myself I'll push myself and try the vets line at least once every practice. Sometimes it works, sometimes I defeat myself before I make it to the vets line, and head straight for the Fresh Meat line. There's no shame in this line, but I decide that I need to feel shame about it anyway.

Why do I participate in the speed skating session? Because I need to get faster, damnit! I've got what amounts to be the opposite of the skater's physique - I'm long and skinny and klutzy and have unwieldy limbs. If I can't bend my limbs to my will and get them to distract other skaters, I'm done for. If I can't dodge and fake and take off at lightspeed, then I'll be forced to continue with my current routine of getting knocked down, popping up, getting knocked down, etc., until I'm too exhausted to care anymore.

Therefore I've decided that speed skating = good. What's even better? Muscles that ache to that Nth degree that tell you that you're on to something. If you can get used to this shit, you're really getting somewhere.

Derby + Nerds = Fabulous!

Okay I have to take a break from the regularly scheduled griping about learning how to play roller derby to mention .... ... That Oni Press's Derby Anthology, JAM! is out in stores today!!! Woop woop! Written by rollergirls, drawn by comickers, it's the perfect blend of everything ... well, that I've ever wanted!

Comic lovers - Get out there and hug a derby girl!

Derby girls - We've conquered another media outlet!

I have a l'il eight page story in the book about when I was first learning how to skate  ... (which was seriously not that long ago ... we're talking end of 2008 - eek!) It's crazy to think how much has happened since then. Rest assured I still feel awkward, still make shrill bird noises when I fall, and still wonder what the hell I think I'm doing out there. But now I feel a part of this world and no longer on my tippy toes, craning to get a look inside. Yay!

Derby + Nerds = Fabulous!

Okay I have to take a break from the regularly scheduled griping about learning how to play roller derby to mention .... ... That Oni Press's Derby Anthology, JAM! is out in stores today!!! Woop woop! Written by rollergirls, drawn by comickers, it's the perfect blend of everything ... well, that I've ever wanted!

Comic lovers - Get out there and hug a derby girl!

Derby girls - We've conquered another media outlet!

I have a l'il eight page story in the book about when I was first learning how to skate  ... (which was seriously not that long ago ... we're talking end of 2008 - eek!) It's crazy to think how much has happened since then. Rest assured I still feel awkward, still make shrill bird noises when I fall, and still wonder what the hell I think I'm doing out there. But now I feel a part of this world and no longer on my tippy toes, craning to get a look inside. Yay!

Committee Commitment

So when you join a roller derby league, it is required that you participate in one of the many roller derby committees. These committees range in scope from governance of the league, to bout production, to merchandise, to grievance, etc. etc. By participating, every skater takes an active role in the development of the league, and the league becomes truly skater owned and operated. So this is awesome. What is not awesome, is spending a huge amount of your free time and skipping practices in order to do said work on the committee. It takes a shit-ton of work to make a roller derby league run like a well-oiled machine. And considering that the skaters on the league vary from full-time students holding down part-time jobs to working mothers with multiple jobs, it's a wonder any of us have time to play derby in general. So when you add in all the practicing, running and skating in bouts, making appearances at local events ... it starts to add up.

And I'm pretty bad at time management (apparently). I want to do everything all of the time. I don't want to miss out on anything. I want to be able to do all the things I enjoy doing, and help out wherever I can. Is that so unreasonable? Unfortunately, this has been WAY easier said than done and now I'm struggling. Luckily we have a wave of super awesome fresh meat coming in, and their enthusiasm can help replenish the vets and the not-so-vets (like me - not even been in derby a year yet) from feeling so overwhelmed and burnt out.

I hope so anyway. Woof.

Snow Shovels and Butt Cracks

I've been buried under snow for most of the week and it's been wonderful. I always love a good excuse to cancel out of the normal, day-to-day schedule and detour off into freedom. Hell, even if it's raining, I'll accept cancellations from friends. It's not just that snow blankets everything and forces it to calm down and shut up for a minute, but it also forces people to pause and reset. It forces you to be local, get out and walk, and laugh at everyone teetering about on the ice. The other morning, I trekked off to Dunkin Donuts, where on my return trip I immediately slipped and planted myself into a snow bank, coffee and bagels and everything in tow. Luckily our snow banks are so massive right now, I was at more of a lean than an actual horizontal position. I still yelped, though, so I couldn't play it off as intentional.

Then, while navigating neighborhood backroads, I noticed all the people digging out their cars who've clearly never before had to do anything of the sort. I saw shovelers in hip-huggers, their butt cracks exposed for all the world to see, impractical high-heeled boots, and overly large sunglasses that wouldn't stay in place. Random garden tools being used in place of anything actually useful on snow. Trendy haircuts destroyed by awkward knit caps and sweaty brows. Obscene statues serving as placeholders for parking spots. It was like a yard sale that people were forced against their will to participate in. The snow exposed everyone -- along with their habits, their athletic prowess, their questionable snow outfits, and what furniture they were willing to put on public display.

The Blizzard is Making Me Fat

All we seem to have in the house is bread, pasta, cheese, and butter. That's pretty much it. Oh, and thank god - alcohol. So even though practice has been cancelled for the week, I'm getting progressively more slovenly and worried about the Return To Derby next week. Today I finally mustered up the energy to get on the treadmill and do some squats and was instantly discouraged. All this work we do in practices and all the staying power it takes to keep up in scrimmages and all the insane adrenaline it's going to take (I assume) to bout -- why does it have to vanish so quickly? After only a couple days I can feel my legs turning to mush. Does the strength and endurance last longer when you've been doing it longer? God I hope so. It's pretty pathetic how quickly my body craves doing nothing. I always assume that when I'm stuck at home I'll work my ass off on all the exercises I'm not keeping up with in practice (I'm looking at you, alternating lunges on skates!) so that I can improve when no one can see me. Alas, it's so much easier for me to get frustrated and quit when I'm trying to hold a core pose when I'm all alone. My unwillingness to attract attention in practice by being unable to do things is my only motivator, apparently. Shame is my co-pilot!

Why Be Derby?

I was in a high school art show my junior year called "Why Be Normal?" It was all about celebrating the different and the absurd (as high school artists tend to be) and supposed to teach people that "different" was fun and cool. Really, preaching to people about "different" at an art show is a moot point. People tend to expect you to be avant garde - to show them something they couldn't do. And in a high school art show, you're already different. That's why you're there. Or at least - you're trying to be different. So the question I get asked a lot now is - Why be derby? People think at a certain point in your life you're done with experimenting with drastically different things, or are unwilling to risk the time and investment a new hobby takes. They figure that if you ARE trying new things that require commitment and dedication, then something in your current life must be lacking. It's weird to think that after a certain point you should be done. Settled in your life. When you're finally older, wiser, and financially independent, isn't that THE time to try new things?

I've heard a lot of people gravitate towards derby because they are looking for something - companionship, exercise, or simply something to do 3 - 4 times a week to stave off boredom. Or people say it saved them - gave them a whole different world to immerse themselves in when their own world got a little shitty. I can definitely see how derby works in both of those situations. And I know why I gravitated towards it (exercise, sport, camaraderie, flair, superhero identity, etc etc), but I don't feel like I was looking for any sort of replacement in my life. I tacked it on in addition to doing all these things I already love.

Sometimes that makes me feel a bit guilty. It doesn't really make sense, but is it possible to have too many hobbies that take you away from the day-to-day you're supposed to be involved in?

Skate Fear

Last night was the second time I've seen people respond to those wearing skates with, "No. Absolutely not. Take those off right now or leave." What's the deal? Why the skate hatred? I fear I already know the answer, which just involves people assuming that if anything ever happens to you in a place you don't own yourself, you'll sue everyone. And their moms. Because that seems to be the sole motivation for most of the things we do in this country. Can I make money off of this? Can someone make money off of me for this? Those are the only questions we find necessary to ask.

And I'm sick of it! Take some responsibility for your actions! Have some integrity to admit when you were stupid! Grow a pair! If you trip and break your ankle on that sidewalk, you're a klutz. You're not eligible for thousands of dollars. Oh, and that coffee is hot. And that bag is not a toy for babies.

I can understand if you're skating around, scaring people, or creating a dangerous situation. No one wants that. I don't even like performance art near me. But if you're standing still, or stepping slowly around on skates, on a carpet, because it's novel and attracts more people to want to talk to you about derby and your cause, why the hell not? Because you could bust your own ass and then blame everyone else for it. Of course.

There Will Be Bruises

Last night was my second scrimmage with my new team. It was a mixture of some teammates I've played with before, some returning vets who I haven't played with yet, and some unteamed freshies. The warm-up was unfortunately awful for me - it focused on close hitting, so you skate next to your partner and repeatedly tap them over and over. Hit, reset, hit reset. Stuff that I really need help with. But my timing is so dreadful that most of the time my hits are comparable to a nudge. *Nudge* Hey you, mind getting out of my way? *Nudge* Wait, you're still in my way ... *Nudge* Why haven't you fallen down yet?

And in contrast, as soon as it's the other person's turn to hit, I fall nearly every time. Which is frustrating and eventually embarrassing. I almost feel it necessary to apologize. And I hate that when I get frustrated my first instinct is to complain and give up. "This is bullshit! I'm outta here ..." Then a few seconds later I'm ready to try again. I've really got to get this hitting thing down. A lot of it is about timing and coordination, and I'm a bit lacking in those areas.

The hesitation, combined with my ineffective blocking tendencies, are then taken into scrimmaging -- where everything is already a hot mess. It's like tossing a baby foal into a pen full of hungry lions and screaming at it "FIGURE IT OUT!!!" and all the foal can think is "Hang on ... I just figured out I can walk here ..." I try to get as low and wide as possible, so at least I have the hopes of appearing like an impenetrable wall. It can work until I realize I'm staying in one place, and not shifting around enough. Or until I realize my team has been shouting at me to do something other than what I've been doing. And I hear the shouting. Oh, yes, I do in fact hear it. Do I acknowledge it? Usually not, if it's all negative. Because surprisingly, negative reinforcement doesn't motivate me all that much. Maybe I should mention that to someone ... I'm definitely trying to discern what the hell is going on and how I can be at least a little bit useful, but the basics of strategy can just zoom right by me.

I think I did learn some important things though:

1. Whenever certain people hit me, we'll both go down in a blaze of glory and I'll be amazed I can get back up again
2. Listen to what your bench coach is shouting at you, not your benched teammates
3. Refs are confusing and will be ignored until they make me get off the track
4. Look behind you, not in front of you
5. Pay no attention to those blockers purposefully, repeatedly targeting you - chances are they've already distracted you from something you should be doing
6. Stop touching the other team so much (hello, forearm penalties!)

And even though some of my teammates might be crazy, we're clearly all crazy for doing this. So hey - that's two things in common!

There Will Be Bruises

Last night was my second scrimmage with my new team. It was a mixture of some teammates I've played with before, some returning vets who I haven't played with yet, and some unteamed freshies. The warm-up was unfortunately awful for me - it focused on close hitting, so you skate next to your partner and repeatedly tap them over and over. Hit, reset, hit reset. Stuff that I really need help with. But my timing is so dreadful that most of the time my hits are comparable to a nudge. *Nudge* Hey you, mind getting out of my way? *Nudge* Wait, you're still in my way ... *Nudge* Why haven't you fallen down yet?

And in contrast, as soon as it's the other person's turn to hit, I fall nearly every time. Which is frustrating and eventually embarrassing. I almost feel it necessary to apologize. And I hate that when I get frustrated my first instinct is to complain and give up. "This is bullshit! I'm outta here ..." Then a few seconds later I'm ready to try again. I've really got to get this hitting thing down. A lot of it is about timing and coordination, and I'm a bit lacking in those areas.

The hesitation, combined with my ineffective blocking tendencies, are then taken into scrimmaging -- where everything is already a hot mess. It's like tossing a baby foal into a pen full of hungry lions and screaming at it "FIGURE IT OUT!!!" and all the foal can think is "Hang on ... I just figured out I can walk here ..." I try to get as low and wide as possible, so at least I have the hopes of appearing like an impenetrable wall. It can work until I realize I'm staying in one place, and not shifting around enough. Or until I realize my team has been shouting at me to do something other than what I've been doing. And I hear the shouting. Oh, yes, I do in fact hear it. Do I acknowledge it? Usually not, if it's all negative. Because surprisingly, negative reinforcement doesn't motivate me all that much. Maybe I should mention that to someone ... I'm definitely trying to discern what the hell is going on and how I can be at least a little bit useful, but the basics of strategy can just zoom right by me.

I think I did learn some important things though:

1. Whenever certain people hit me, we'll both go down in a blaze of glory and I'll be amazed I can get back up again
2. Listen to what your bench coach is shouting at you, not your benched teammates
3. Refs are confusing and will be ignored until they make me get off the track
4. Look behind you, not in front of you
5. Pay no attention to those blockers purposefully, repeatedly targeting you - chances are they've already distracted you from something you should be doing
6. Stop touching the other team so much (hello, forearm penalties!)

And even though some of my teammates might be crazy, we're clearly all crazy for doing this. So hey - that's two things in common!

I Choose Pretty Over Safe Any Day

While driving home in the pretty pretty snow that everyone around here bitches about so much, I realized how rare it is to get moments alone on the road. The snow covers everything evenly and you're not quite sure where to direct your car. It's still and quiet and I'm forced to drive slowly and take it all in. I could choose whether to crawl along, surrounded by nervous drivers on all sides on a salty highway covered with streetlights, or ... I could choose the secondary roads they don't plow. The roads my car might have trouble twisting around the corners and getting up hills and slipsliding into gutters. The roads where I get to be responsible for my own safety and destiny. Have I always been this stupid -- to choose the long, arduous, more visually appealing road than the safe, quick, boring one? Yes. It's the same reason I choose grocery stores that are more expensive - they have better lighting and smaller aisles. The same reason I put on lipstick even when I'm sick - it makes me feel better. The same reason I make the bed every morning - it convinces me that part of the room is clean.

I was listening to my favorite paranormal podcast today and the hosts took turns going to a hypnotist to regress into their past lives. They had totally different experiences while under, but their trancy, slurred responses to questions  about where they were and what they were wearing were mesmerizing. I've wanted to go to a hypnotist since I saw Dead Again and convinced myself that my past life, too, would totally be glamorous and full of intrigue. In reality, I'm probably the guy in prehistoric times who gets eaten by the lion, a la Albert Brooks in Defending Your Life. But I do kind of wonder if I'm the same now as I was in the past, despite the circumstances. Have I always chosen aesthetics over safety and survival? If we're to believe there are past lives buried in each of our subconsciousnesses, then we have to believe they carry part of who we are now in every single one. So I probably have never been any braver, or smarter, or more interesting than I am now.

And in a weird way, I find that kind of comforting.

My Ass is Definitely Bigger

Yesterday I decided to bust out the tape measure so I could order some booty shorts, and I was struck by how many inches my hips have grown. Which may be the cause for some alarm in most women but actually makes me a little proud. I've always been built like a 12-year-old boy, so the fact that I have any curve-age at all is encouraging. Just like when I was in ballet and I built my arch up, derby has allowed me to build my ass up.

http://derbyskinz.com/

It Starts Now

My thumb hurts. Yesterday was supposed to have been the culmination of a year and two month's hard work - my first roller derby bout. I would've finally had a chance to see what I was really made of and whether or not the training had made me capable of bouting in public. Instead, it snowed a lot more than expected and stalled all the normal derby activities that usually occur.

Along with one active and one inactive rollergirl, I spent a scary amount of time driving to the bout venue, navigating trapped cars and trying not to slip too much on the ice ourselves. When we arrived, I got to participate in the dreaded setting up of the track - an activity I'd heard referred to many times and dreaded as some part of rollergirl initiation. See, our league doesn't have its own arena or track to use solely for the purpose of derby. So we practice at roller rinks and bout at an arena normally devoted to soccer. So that means that on bout day, volunteers have to show up hours before the start to lay down our rollerskating track. First there were rows and rows of 3' x 5' plywood that had to be lined up, shoved together, and aligned with a mallet. I put my hands in the wrong position the first time I shoved the plywood together and -- *yeep*. My thumb twinged and moved in a way it wasn't supposed to. "Thank god this is derby, not thumb wrestling," a passing rollergirl chimed in. Next, we slid slabs of skating track off of a pile and, with the help of a partner, carried it out to distribute on the wood planks. I found the slabs unwieldy and kept nearly dropping them, but luckily my partner was forgiving. The underside of the slabs was full of plastic hooks that should've made grasping easier, but instead hooked onto my thighs and threatened to de-pants me. Looking around at all the people working away - rollergirls, rollergirl fans, rollergirl spouses, volunteers, announcers - I wanted to make sure I at least did my part to help with the manual labor. This is one hardworking goddamn league.

After a little over an hour, I left with my rollergirl carpool and made the trek back home to get ready. I heard more advice on what to do and what not to do in my first bout.

"They're going to go after you, because you're new, so be ready for it from the start."

"Trust me, they hold back in scrimmage - you're going to feel what it's like to really be hit by them now."

"Make sure you don't eat too much or too little."

"The floor is definitely different to skate AND fall on - make sure you warm up as much as possible on it."

Luckily the return trip was shorter than the initial trip to the arena, because I was already full to the brim with terrifying warnings. My stomach tied up with nerves and I started wondering why on earth I ever decided to do this. Sure, it's been fun and absolutely thrilling so far, but maybe - just maybe - my derring-do wasn't going to pay off. Maybe this whole becoming a rollergirl thing was just a stupid idea.

The snow continued to fall, and the bout was cancelled. Clearly, I have mixed feelings about it that I hesitate to admit to other people, but overall I was relieved.

• I started learning how to rollerskate in October '08.
• I passed try-outs and made the league in August '09.
• In November I passed my first assessment - proving I was safe to scrimmage.
• A week and a half ago I passed my second assessment - proving I was safe to bout.
• Last Wednesday I was drafted to a team.

It's all so thrilling and sudden and although I was so ecstatic to be drafted in time to play in our first bout of the season, I was a little wary of being drafted right before. Days before. I've barely gotten to know my teammates, and I've skated with them once in scrimmage. So, yeah -- I'm grateful for this extra time to get slightly more used to things before skating in front of hundreds of people. Thank you winter! (But shh -- don't tell anyone -- everyone else is pretty pissed we had to cancel.)

Thus begins my first year as a rollergirl rookie.