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.

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!

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.

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.

Circuitousness

A couple weeks ago my derby life came full circle -- I got to volunteer at tryouts for the new crop of fresh meat. It was surreal - 9 months ago I was on the other side of the fence, sweating and feeling overheated in my helmet and vomitous in my stomach. Every drill instantly put me out of breath because I was so nervous. The drill I dreaded most -- the 23 laps in 5 minutes, pass or fail -- luckily was the second thing we did. After that, and after the blessed rollergirl counting my laps told me I'd passed, I could enjoy the rest of the tryouts with minimal vomitousness. Revisiting tryouts AS a rollergirl was incredibly validating. Not only did I finally feel like I'd improved, but I knew it was possible for each and every one of these girls to one day make it as a rollergirl. They might not realize it yet, but I did. I loved seeing how nervous and excited they all were and how hard they were willing to try. This time around we got a HUGE number of girls who were interested, and a large percentage of them made the league. I've been to a couple practices with the freshies and been appointed a big sis to one of them. Plus, a good friend of mine has recently nabbed an interest in derby and is following along in very similar footsteps as I did to get ready to play.

Derby is everywhere. More and more women are getting interested in it. We'll take over the worrrrrlllllddd!

Survival of the Rookies!

I did it. I successfully completed my first derby season! (True, I only got to skate in 3/5 games, but still) No injuries yet, *knock knock* and I'm slowwwwwly improving every time.

It's amazing how sick to my stomach and terrified I was yesterday, and totally convinced I didn't want to go out there. I don't know what it is - the crowds? The pressure? My team was last place going in and playing a team we love, so pressure was nonexistent. I guess it was because I (naturally) got picked out as the weak member of the herd and was successfully held back by 3 players of the opposing team more than once. Oh well. My family says I got up quicker than ever when knocked down! AND even resisted falling down when hit a few times! AND - gasp - successfully kept one of our league's best jammers back for more than a few seconds!

That smells like progress.

Now I'm super excited to just go to practice and work on my skills without having to perform in front of a live audience once a month! Bring on the summer season!

Hopeless Slackass

Okay, I admit I got the title for this post from an episode of Frasier (yes - I loved Frasier!). Frasier was out shopping for a replacement recliner for his father and was so dismayed at the brand name "La-Z-Boy" that he said: "I wonder what they call the deluxe model - the Hopeless Slackass??" Tee hee. *ahem* So anyway ...

Work and comic fun has disrupted my normal derby practice and exercise regime, so now I'm trying to bust back into it so I can start making real progress. Plus, a friend of mine has recently developed an interest in derby AND this friend used to work out quite a lot, so she's been sharing some exercise advice with me. I don't know about y'all, but one thing I desperately need help with is my core. The plank kills me, and in derby you have to depend on your core muscles a LOT (hello sprawls and falls!) but it's one of those things where it seems like an impossible area to develop.

She passed along a couple of links:

• General Core Info with some exercises
• Core Exercises using a ball
• More Exercises ...

Truthfully, I haven't tried any yet, but I'm excited to. I've also discovered EA Fitness for the Wii, which is much more challenging than Wii Fit and features a lot of leg-heavy exercises that are great for building up skating muscles. I was annoyed that the exercises still seemed hard after all the derby practice (squats, then jump squats, then lunges, then jump lunges in a row??) but it can only make things easier in the long run. I've found that it's only when doing some endurance drill that stretches on forever, just as I'm considering giving up, that I'll notice I'm a wee bit stronger than I've been before. Oy - what a feeling. :)

Feel free to share your exercise regimes - I need all the help I can get!

Club Foot

I'm getting back into derby practice hard core this week. Work and comic stuff have kept me away for TOO long. Now when I set skate on the track I feel sluggish, gawky, and way too timid. This is unacceptable. Tonight we did endurance drills and I got winded - sure. Then my skates spoke up to remind me that I need much more padding in my skate to be comfortable. I attempted to tape up the blisters - but I have not the gift.

We did blocking-endurance-blocking and I got some great advice about taking a hit. See - normally, when I take a hit I fully accept it and fall down. Why? Because I'm scared of resisting. Well, maybe that's not totally true - sometimes I resist. Buy when someone REALLY creams me, I just let myself be knocked into oblivion, and try to get up as quickly as I can. Because then, at least, there's no lasting injuries.

But when one of the blockers who's personally creamed me several times told me to resist - and I did - and DIDN'T fall down ... what a great feeling. Another mystery of derby beginning to be unlocked!

(then someone kicked me in the ankle and I sat out the rest of practice, but it's all good!)

Rookie Pride

I haven't been able to go to practice all that much lately, and it really sucks. Mostly because the longer I stay away, the worse I am when I do return. So because I've gone only twice in the last four weeks, I'm starting to worry that the few skills I have acquired are starting to drip away. Case in point: Last night I accidentally went to a Travel Team tryouts practice (I thought it would be the normally scheduled Tuesday speed skating practice) and got my ass handed to me.

Sure, I should be proud of myself for:

1. Not running out the door as soon as I heard what practice really was that night
2. Not running out the door as soon as I realized I'd forgotten my blister-proof ankle booties
3. Sticking it out the entire practice, even though I had to stop for a few minutes in the middle of each exercise
4. Not crying with frustration at the fact that people who joined the league after me are now better than me

I don't know what it is. I already know that I can't compare myself to anyone else, but there's still a nagging feeling that irritates me when I struggle. Why am I not better than this? Why is it so difficult for me? It's just the pride, I know. But rookie pride? I don't really have anything to cry about yet, I just started. Try complaining when you've been in it for a few years and still feel like you suck ...

(don't worry, I'm sure that'll happen to me too!)

The Art Hand

Recently, a derby friend of mine injured her hand during a scrimmage. Luckily she didn't break anything, but her fingers were pretty severely bruised and banged up. Was it the Art Hand or the Labor Hand? I asked her. For me, my Art Hand does the drawing, the mousing, the writing, the eating. The Labor Hand does the heavy lifting, the left side of the keyboard, the holding. The Art Hand, she replied. Ugh. Not long after that, I met a fellow female comicker who said she, too, loved derby and wished she could do it. "Why don't you?" I asked, prepared to launch into my speech about how if I could learn how to skate and derby, anyone could learn how to skate and derby.

"Because I can't risk injuring my hand," she replied, somewhat with an air of "duh" behind it. Oh yeah - that.

I try not to think about impending injury in general where derby is concerned, but specifically not my Art Hand. Besides the fact that I trust all of my day job to my Art Hand, I also trust it with my comic work - paid and unpaid. Now that I'm officially working for a publisher, maybe I should consider that a bit more. Am I being stupid, staying in derby? I try to convince myself that no, people can injure their Art Hand doing any number of things. You could get hit by a car (my coworker did) while crossing the street, fall awkwardly on it while tripping over something in the road, any number of normal every-day activities could result in injury, right? I played volleyball for years and saw my share of breaks and sprains and came out unscathed.

So am I being reckless and unsafe? Maybe. But I love derby and I worked too hard to get here - I'm not giving it up for fear alone. If I have to get injured at some point, my fingers are crossed for a knee injury. A nice, safe knee injury.

I Ain't Fraid of No Scrimmage

It suddenly occurred to me at scrimmage practice this week that I wasn't afraid any more. At first I was the usual bundle of jitters, avoiding lining up so I wouldn't have to go in, obsessively going over in my head what I always do wrong. But after the 2nd half, it suddenly struck me - I was no longer terrified. I started scrimmaging in November of last year, and up until now it's been a vicious cycle of confusion, fear of getting knocked down, frustration at seeing what I'm supposed to be doing and not doing that, and elation when something clicks and I figure out what I'm doing. I've never looked forward to scrimmaging and the thought of it usually made me want to turn around and go home. It's difficult training for something for months and finally being able to do it, and realizing how much harder it is than you'd ever thought it would be. Oh yeah - and the fact that you can never get better unless you keep doing that thing you're terrified of.

Luckily I was warned at my first scrimmage that it would be the worst I'd ever feel in derby. All of a sudden so much would be going on and I'd feel like a big, slow-moving target, teasing the other team to take me down. And that's exactly how I felt (unfortunately, that scrimmage just happened to be opened to friends and potential skaters, too, so everyone could see the trouble I was having). Since then I've tried to convince myself that I get a little better every time. Or that if I just finish one jam having done one thing right, I'll be okay. And luckily, I got drafted to a team that doesn't yell at me too much when I do something wrong.

So I'm not saying I'm magically better and that it still won't be hard as shit to improve at derby, but I can proudly say I'm no longer scared. I've met a couple of fresh meats out there who avoided scrimmaging altogether once they were eligible, sometimes putting it off for months. I just want to let them know - it does get better, it does start to click!

And I'll pass along the best advice I've gotten recently -

Don't say "sorry" when you hit me, say "SHAZAAM!"

please enjoy

I have other things I'd rather talk about ... like surviving my second bout, woo hoo! Which I wasn't as terrified to participate in as my first bout, but it was still pretty intimidating. Luckily, playing first helped. As did the fact that the rest of my team was awesome and on the ball. I think I did one useful thing, and maybe made one person on the opposing team fall down. (I also took a spectacular fall in front of my parents and allowed myself to be trapped at the back of the pack, but c'est la vie). All in all I'm trying to be more positive and stop thinking of myself as a derby individual and instead as a derby member. I think that will help.

Right now I'm exhausted from work and frustrated and feeling overwhelmed with everything. . . . I feel like there should always be a balance (hey, I'm a Libra) between work, play, home life, and interests. Lately it's been all work and responsibility and obligations and I find it smothering. I think the tendency is to assume that work is the most important because it pays the bills. When in reality, home life is the most important because it involves the people who love you and regenerate you. I need to remember that.

Frustration Station

Tonight my captain gave me a great piece of advice - "Stop saying that you suck." She is totally right -- I need to stop focusing on the people who treat practice like it's a waste of time ("What? Is this supposed to be hard?") and start focusing on making tiny progress in my own skills. It's weird that not only is derby a game that plays offense and defense simultaneously, but so much of practice is solitary focus and improvement and the entire game is teamwork. I had no idea it would be this complicated.

One thing that does show progress? Two more of the fresh meats I tried out with got drafted today! So exciting for them. It's a big moment (at least in our league) when you finally feel part of a team. It's only then that you really feel like you can start focusing on improving in general, and not just keeping up with the Joneses. So yay - go Fresh Meat Class of August 2009!!

Float Like a Grasshopper

I'm having trouble being springy. My legs are getting in the way rather than propelling me where I need to be. Is it a strength issue? A coordination issue? Probably everything. I blame scrimmaging. It takes forever for me to be useful in scrimmaging. I start off shaky and slow, progressively become spazzy, and graduate to the point where I can avoid some people but still crumble at a block. There's always so much going on that I can't concentrate on getting in any good hits. I usually react after the fact, and then pathetically tap someone with my shoulder, or take out a bunch of people when I fall.

Everyone keeps telling me to use my legs to get in other people's ways, but so far they're just tripping me up.

Injury City

Yesterday I reached another milestone in my derby career - my first trip to the ER with an injured rollergirl. Now, I've already seen loads of injuries. My first couple of months on the league, there was an injury nearly every week at scrimmage practice. Broken leg, torn ACL, broken collarbone, etc. It was completely terrifying to us freshies, and even though we knew injuries tend to happen in derby, it was freaky to see it happen that often. After a couple months the curse seemed to lift and it's been a while since I've witnessed anyone get seriously hurt again. ... Until yesterday. One of my teammates jarred her shoulder last week, but has been to a few practices since and has been doing fine. We were doing a simple drill concentrating on two blockers and one jammer rotating through who was the offense and who the defense. I was rounding the corner behind my teammate's group when she got knocked down and then flattened by the jammer. Her fall didn't look weird or out of the ordinary - but as soon as she hit she screamed. It seemed to take forever for everyone to notice and stop and one of our league's nurses to rush over, and I couldn't understand why - she kept crying out in pain. We flocked around her and tried to stabilize her with ice and padding and soothing words but it took a while before she stopped screaming. When I saw a rollergirl get her collarbone broken, I thought that was the worst - all we could hear was her crying and all we could see was her flailing her skates up and down. But seeing my teammate -- who I already knew to be particularly tough -- be in so much pain was startling.

Eventually we got her calm and the medics came to transport her to the hospital. She kept apologizing - apologizing! - for getting hurt. Two of my other teammates and I followed her ambulance to the ER, and navigated the maze of hallways in our booty shorts and galloshes (it was a rainy morning). They wouldn't let us see her right away, so we texted and facebooked information to the rest of our league and promised to keep everyone in the know. Inbetween bouts of silence we discussed league news, but didn't talk about injuries. After an hour of waiting, we decided to check if we could see her and surprise! They sent us right back. Which probably meant we could've been back there with her a lot sooner. Grrr. As it was, she was waiting all alone, holding her arm and trying not to focus on the pain. We crowded her with happy thoughts until her husband arrived. The nurses let us get away with being way too many visitors for one person for a little while, but eventually had to kick us out.

On our way out, the two security guards commented, "There go the dancers!" We set them straight about the reason behind our tights and they were shocked and intrigued. I love the moment on people's faces when they've already decided something about you and then you completely shatter their opinion. I love people looking at me and assuming I'm tough, or that I can kick ass in any way, shape, or form. (It's not exactly a regular occurence for me). But I guess with all things, there is a price to pay. If you're going to play at being tough, you're going to get hurt.

The injury verdict was that she tore her AC ligament. To me, it's sad on so many levels - all her hard work she put in to get to this point, her excitement at just starting to bout, her anticipation of a derby career. Now she'll be out for months in recovery and we'll miss her terribly. I'm not sure if I'll be able to come back if (when) I get injured. Derby injuries seem to do so much more than stall your athletic career - they sever the connection you've formed with all your derby friends, fans, teammates, committee members until you can get back to the routine. Derby is intensely demanding and rewarding, but it's unfair it can be so heartbreaking too. Maybe I'm taking this too hard - loads of rollergirls have shared their injury stories with me and they came back and kept playing. But out of the 30+ girls I made the league with, less than half are left. After this incident, I don't want to lose any more.

Hobbit Feet

Monday I returned to derby after struggling with car and health issues that caused me to miss practice for the last two weeks. Naturally, the day I picked to return was an exceptionally challenging practice -- off skates exercise that wore out my thighs and hip flexors, then continuous skating in one form or another for an hour. Ugh. I actually like some of the more endurance-based stuff when I can let my mind zone out and just concentrate on what I'm physically capable of. It gets distracting, though, when other people notice you're struggling and get annoyed that you're either in their way or slowing them down. Sometimes it gets to me, but I've gotten pretty good at ignoring the unhelpful comments being barked at me.

One thing I really got frustrated  with during this practice was my feet. Cramping up I can usually deal with, but I was getting a lot of pain from what felt like the plate drilling up into my boot. I usually stock up on tights, moleskin, and socks, so it annoys me that it still doesn't feel like enough padding to get me through. It mainly bugs me on the inside toe and ball of my right foot -- the dreaded "pusher foot". I've already started to develop some nice calluses as a result, but apprently not enough. Several rollergirls have told me derby doesn't exactly produce pedicure-pretty feet.

I'm thinking I need to start gellin' like Magellan . . . any foot suggestions out there?

You Don't Have to Get Punched in the Face

. . . so I've been sick. Which is horrendously inconvenient when you're trying to get good at derby. My throat's a wheezy mass of sandpaper and my voice sounds like a foghorn. It's delightful. So it's a bit of a setback on my way to progress. I wish I could shrug it off and go and kick my own ass but I want to be rid of the cold without subjecting anyone else to it. Plus I slept too much and my neck has seized up, causing me to have to turn my whole body in the direction I want to look, a la Michelle in Romy & Michelle's High School Reunion. "Hi, Back Brace Girl!" Anyway. So in light of the fact that I can't exercise or excel at sports at the moment, I'd rather talk about someone who can -- my new favorite person, Zoe Bell. Like many others, I was first alerted to her presence via DeathProof, one of my absolute favorite movies. I had heard that she was a stuntwoman, and Uma Thurman's stuntwoman on Kill Bill no less, and then to see her in all her glory kicking the crap out of Kurt Russell was just oh so magical. She delights me every time she pops up, be it a random LOST episode or a side character in Whip It. I can safely say I've always envied the women (such as Buffy's stunt double, Sophia Crawford) who are the real-life ass kickers in the world. But I'm safe from ever being able to express an interest in trying to be a stuntwoman, since I'm terrified of most daring feats and suck balls at tumbling.

Recently, a friend of mine let me borrow her copy of Double Dare, which parallels the lives of two stuntwomen. One famous (Jeannie Epper, of doubling Wonder Woman fame, among a zillion other film credits) and one about-to-be famous (Zoe Bell). Besides the fact that I find the real daredevils behind the scenes sort of fascinating, it's also fun to just get a glimpse of the people who you know, when you're watching a movie, that you're not supposed to be seeing. In one of the interviews on the DVD, Quentin Tarantino remarked how when he was growing up it was commonplace to see the stuntdoubles in movies and TV. There they were, right in front of you, and you knew even though out of the corner of your eye they might resemble Arnold, they weren't really Arnold. And you just glossed over that part and accepted it. Now, Tarantino remarked, actors are expected to do a lot more of their own stunts so the stuntpeople become even more invisible. The idea is to cut them up with the footage of the actors so much that it will be impossible to tell actor from stuntperson. The filmmaker will blend the two together into an impossible persona.

I find that kind of fascinating, but also kind of sad. It was always a fun game to see if we could pick out the blatant stuntdouble shots. Who hasn't thoroughly enjoyed that scene in Spaceballs when they catch the stuntdoubles instead of the real characters? If they take that away, then the stuntdoubles will become truly invisible. In a way, they are the real-life superheroes of our time. Doing all the dirty work behind the scenes with no credit, little gratitude, and perfect disguises. They make the extraordinary possible.

That's why Zoe Bell is such a treasure. In Double Dare, she maintained the same determination and delightful outlook whether she was doing grueling take after take on Xena, Warrior Princess, rigged up in wires that spun her around until she injured her shoulder or navigating awkward Hollywood parties as a stranger. It was especially thrilling to see the lead up to her audition for Tarantino and legendary martial arts advisor Yuen Wo-Ping - which she nailed not just because of her strength and skills, but her sheer determination and frustration in trying to land a flip she repeated four times. In the end, they hired her not because she successfully landed the flip (she didn't) but because she kept trying, no matter how many times she fell down. I'm grateful that Tarantino has, since seeing Bell, reversed his opinion on stunt doubles and brought her to the forefront for all to enjoy. We need more of them lady heroes around.