Beep-beep-beepin' Outside That Comfort Zone

Derby's already taught me a lot about what I'm capable of. But another wonderful side effect is what it's taught me about what I am willing to do to get there. Like most people, I prefer not making a spectacle or an ass out of myself in any way, shape, or form. It's just something I'd rather not do. I don't like being the center of attention, and most of the time I prefer to blend into the background. (Does that mean I prefer to wear conventional clothes, make-up, hairstyles, and do what most people do? No. That's another story.) Unfortunately, I tend to be quite noticeable, which was unfortunate throughout my school years. I don't have the best possession over my appendages, I'm someone who should never eat in public, etc. etc. Then something magical happened as I meandered into adulthood - I really stopped caring. Enough awkward, embarrassing, cringeface things had happened to me by that point, that I figured adding another thing or two to my list wouldn't really matter. After all, this line of thinking is responsible for getting me skating in the first place (full awkward story featured in the JAM! book). This has done nothing but benefit me so far throughout my derby career - as long as I don't mind making a complete fool out of myself, I will keep progressing. After all, how many times have I seen skaters I admire take embarrassing tumbles? Many. So many. And all it does is add to my love and the feeling of camaraderie and companionship within the sport.

Anyhoo. So we had a practice the other night led by a former childhood figure skater, who showed us all kinds of crazy drills to test your balance on skates. One, she had us balance on one leg, while swinging the other leg like a pendulum to the left and the right in front of our body. In theory, the momentum would eventually propel us forward as we remained balanced on the one leg. It was an extremely awkward and weird feeling (especially reversing the process, swinging a leg behind you in order to skate backwards) that made me feel like I didn't even know how my body worked. But from my experience, this has been the only way I've learned anything about skating so far - doing something that feels SO odd, SO crazy, that the more I do it and get used to that feeling the more I've expanded my skills repertoire.

My off-season goal: to keep practicing awkward drills like this until I resemble Gene Kelly's insanely awesome roller skating in this movie from the 50s.

Beep-beep-beepin' Outside That Comfort Zone

Derby's already taught me a lot about what I'm capable of. But another wonderful side effect is what it's taught me about what I am willing to do to get there. Like most people, I prefer not making a spectacle or an ass out of myself in any way, shape, or form. It's just something I'd rather not do. I don't like being the center of attention, and most of the time I prefer to blend into the background. (Does that mean I prefer to wear conventional clothes, make-up, hairstyles, and do what most people do? No. That's another story.) Unfortunately, I tend to be quite noticeable, which was unfortunate throughout my school years. I don't have the best possession over my appendages, I'm someone who should never eat in public, etc. etc. Then something magical happened as I meandered into adulthood - I really stopped caring. Enough awkward, embarrassing, cringeface things had happened to me by that point, that I figured adding another thing or two to my list wouldn't really matter. After all, this line of thinking is responsible for getting me skating in the first place (full awkward story featured in the JAM! book). This has done nothing but benefit me so far throughout my derby career - as long as I don't mind making a complete fool out of myself, I will keep progressing. After all, how many times have I seen skaters I admire take embarrassing tumbles? Many. So many. And all it does is add to my love and the feeling of camaraderie and companionship within the sport.

Anyhoo. So we had a practice the other night led by a former childhood figure skater, who showed us all kinds of crazy drills to test your balance on skates. One, she had us balance on one leg, while swinging the other leg like a pendulum to the left and the right in front of our body. In theory, the momentum would eventually propel us forward as we remained balanced on the one leg. It was an extremely awkward and weird feeling (especially reversing the process, swinging a leg behind you in order to skate backwards) that made me feel like I didn't even know how my body worked. But from my experience, this has been the only way I've learned anything about skating so far - doing something that feels SO odd, SO crazy, that the more I do it and get used to that feeling the more I've expanded my skills repertoire.

My off-season goal: to keep practicing awkward drills like this until I resemble Gene Kelly's insanely awesome roller skating in this movie from the 50s.

Carry On My Wayward Off-Season

That's right, the off-season! I made it! I have officially survived my first roller derby season. Whew. And luckily the last bout was enough of a blast that it inspired me to want to train harder and get better even though I'm finally allowed to slack off. One thing I know now is that I fit in roller derby. Now I get to spend the next season figuring out how I want to fit. This will be no easy task. At first I slid easily into the "tall/lanky" category. Then we got a few more tall lankies on the league, so that was out. Tall, lanky, with potential to be fast? Unfortunately I got blown out of the water by other girls a long time ago. Speed can no longer be my thing. Other tallies have also claimed the grasshopper slots, the daddy long legs slots, the ninja slots ... so what's left for me to claim? I can take up room on the track? Roadblock?

Perhaps. I made the huge mistake (never, ever ever try this at home) of watching some of our latest bout footage in the morning before heading to work. In the morning, so there was no booze involved. Watching footage of the bout I was so proud of myself for - the bout where I actually moved and hit people and made a contribution.

Ugh.

It was so painfully horrible to see myself in action. My performance was most akin to the balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade - slow, wide, lumbering. Grraaaadually drifting over to the inside line to hit someone. Slowly eaaaassssssinngg over to help out a teammate. No quick movements, no lateral movement whatsoever. Slow and steady as she goes.

(this isn't the point of derby)

So even though I really, really don't want to, I'm going to gear up to re-watch. People have been telling me that watching yourself on tape is one of the best ways you can learn how to improve. (oh god) And luckily the rest of my team wants to watch, with alcohol, so maybe I won't be entirely focused on my hideous performance. No one likes to watch themself on tape. Even my captain declared that when she witnessed her own performance, she knew then and there she should become an NSO (Non-Skating Official). That made me feel an eensy bit better.

So here we go - onward into the off-season, and all the fun and embarrassing training opportunities it can provide!

Carry On My Wayward Off-Season

That's right, the off-season! I made it! I have officially survived my first roller derby season. Whew. And luckily the last bout was enough of a blast that it inspired me to want to train harder and get better even though I'm finally allowed to slack off. One thing I know now is that I fit in roller derby. Now I get to spend the next season figuring out how I want to fit. This will be no easy task. At first I slid easily into the "tall/lanky" category. Then we got a few more tall lankies on the league, so that was out. Tall, lanky, with potential to be fast? Unfortunately I got blown out of the water by other girls a long time ago. Speed can no longer be my thing. Other tallies have also claimed the grasshopper slots, the daddy long legs slots, the ninja slots ... so what's left for me to claim? I can take up room on the track? Roadblock?

Perhaps. I made the huge mistake (never, ever ever try this at home) of watching some of our latest bout footage in the morning before heading to work. In the morning, so there was no booze involved. Watching footage of the bout I was so proud of myself for - the bout where I actually moved and hit people and made a contribution.

Ugh.

It was so painfully horrible to see myself in action. My performance was most akin to the balloons in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade - slow, wide, lumbering. Grraaaadually drifting over to the inside line to hit someone. Slowly eaaaassssssinngg over to help out a teammate. No quick movements, no lateral movement whatsoever. Slow and steady as she goes.

(this isn't the point of derby)

So even though I really, really don't want to, I'm going to gear up to re-watch. People have been telling me that watching yourself on tape is one of the best ways you can learn how to improve. (oh god) And luckily the rest of my team wants to watch, with alcohol, so maybe I won't be entirely focused on my hideous performance. No one likes to watch themself on tape. Even my captain declared that when she witnessed her own performance, she knew then and there she should become an NSO (Non-Skating Official). That made me feel an eensy bit better.

So here we go - onward into the off-season, and all the fun and embarrassing training opportunities it can provide!

Add 'Em Up

... the small victories. The time here when you managed to not fall down when that notorious blocker slammed into you. The time there when you passed someone you've never passed before while jamming. The time when you finally figured out what was going on while scrimmaging. The time when you were able to do skate lunges on BOTH legs down the rink (ok ... that's me-specific since my right leg usually gives out on me). So much of derby is big and bold and fast and in-your-face that it's easy to forget all the little steps it takes to get better and better at it. Every once and a while you realize you've figured something out that hasn't occurred to you before, or even better - when you do something on instinct that you remember purposefully practicing over and over again. Those are the little, teeny, impressively important small victories you really have to hang on to when you're in training. I keep forgetting it's not my job to compare myself to other players, their styles, their skills. I need to keep track of what I've actually done and where I need to go. It's good to selfishly focus on your own improvement during practice so that when you're out there with your team - you're thinking of nothing else but them.

And little by little, you'll see the game start to open up and make sense to you. It will no longer seem like a chaotic mess of limbs when all you're thinking about is staying alive. Suddenly you can see - "oh hey there's a jammer in there" and "oh yeah, I need to be playing defense at this particular moment". The sport will suddenly make sense to you, and that's the moment when you'll forget all the frustration it's taken to get there and realize you are now a part of it and you now belong.

This roller derby is no longer their derby -- it's now your derby too.

Add 'Em Up

... the small victories. The time here when you managed to not fall down when that notorious blocker slammed into you. The time there when you passed someone you've never passed before while jamming. The time when you finally figured out what was going on while scrimmaging. The time when you were able to do skate lunges on BOTH legs down the rink (ok ... that's me-specific since my right leg usually gives out on me). So much of derby is big and bold and fast and in-your-face that it's easy to forget all the little steps it takes to get better and better at it. Every once and a while you realize you've figured something out that hasn't occurred to you before, or even better - when you do something on instinct that you remember purposefully practicing over and over again. Those are the little, teeny, impressively important small victories you really have to hang on to when you're in training. I keep forgetting it's not my job to compare myself to other players, their styles, their skills. I need to keep track of what I've actually done and where I need to go. It's good to selfishly focus on your own improvement during practice so that when you're out there with your team - you're thinking of nothing else but them.

And little by little, you'll see the game start to open up and make sense to you. It will no longer seem like a chaotic mess of limbs when all you're thinking about is staying alive. Suddenly you can see - "oh hey there's a jammer in there" and "oh yeah, I need to be playing defense at this particular moment". The sport will suddenly make sense to you, and that's the moment when you'll forget all the frustration it's taken to get there and realize you are now a part of it and you now belong.

This roller derby is no longer their derby -- it's now your derby too.

Super Role Model

I see a lot of Superman insignias everywhere I go - from people's bags to shirts to getting them painted on the rear windows of their cars. Why the obsession with Superman? He always seemed so boring to me. Born with amazing abilities that no one can touch. Ho-hum. I never found him terribly relatable. Only when I was obsessed with Smallville did I get invested in what Superman was up to (and I blame that on the allure of Tom Welling). But then I came across Bill's Superman monologue in Kill Bill Vol. 2, and Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and I started to get it. People who like Superman are the same people who value natural talent and ability. Have they had to train to get to that point? Yeah. But training just adds on to their already natural ability. They've got the talent and have discovered what they naturally excel at doing.

So those are the Superman fans. The Batman fans are a different breed - they value technology and smarts above everything else. Weren't born with natural talent? No problem. They'll engineer a solution. They put all their stock in not what they already can do, but what they believe they can figure out. They're crafty, because they've had to be. No one gave them anything they didn't earn.

Both of these types I find can be applied (among other things) to sports. I've met both of these types over and over already in derby. The natural talents who, as soon as they make the league, shoot to the top. They don't understand why other people think it's hard, and it all just seems to fit. The Supermans. Fans especially love the Supermans - they're so glossy and amazing and stand out from the pack so easily. It's hard not to idolize them.  Then there are those who immediately recognize that they aren't the Supermans, but have the drive and ambition to get as far as fast as they can with their ingenuity. These Batmans are self aware and not plagued with doubt or uncertainty - they can sum up their pluses and minuses and figure out where to put them to their best use.

Where do I find myself in all of this? My own personal superhero role model? Well, the philosophy I've found fits best with my "style" in life is the House of HufflePuff in Harry Potter. Of course I always wanted and dreamed of being a Superman. But I'm not. And I'm too plagued with self-consciousness to be a Batman. I'm a HufflePuff - I work hard, I plug away, I slllooowwwwlllyyy and steadily improve. Supermans burn out, Batmans get bored. I keep going.

But I might need something a little more than just recognizing I'm a HufflePuff to keep me motivated and going in derby. Who's the superhero who has overcome mediocrity and kept plugging away until they've succeeded and become amazing? That's the one I can get behind. That's the one who's insignia I want on my car. Even though I work in comics, I'm sadly uneducated in the majority of current superheroes. Recommendations?

Super Role Model

I see a lot of Superman insignias everywhere I go - from people's bags to shirts to getting them painted on the rear windows of their cars. Why the obsession with Superman? He always seemed so boring to me. Born with amazing abilities that no one can touch. Ho-hum. I never found him terribly relatable. Only when I was obsessed with Smallville did I get invested in what Superman was up to (and I blame that on the allure of Tom Welling). But then I came across Bill's Superman monologue in Kill Bill Vol. 2, and Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and I started to get it. People who like Superman are the same people who value natural talent and ability. Have they had to train to get to that point? Yeah. But training just adds on to their already natural ability. They've got the talent and have discovered what they naturally excel at doing.

So those are the Superman fans. The Batman fans are a different breed - they value technology and smarts above everything else. Weren't born with natural talent? No problem. They'll engineer a solution. They put all their stock in not what they already can do, but what they believe they can figure out. They're crafty, because they've had to be. No one gave them anything they didn't earn.

Both of these types I find can be applied (among other things) to sports. I've met both of these types over and over already in derby. The natural talents who, as soon as they make the league, shoot to the top. They don't understand why other people think it's hard, and it all just seems to fit. The Supermans. Fans especially love the Supermans - they're so glossy and amazing and stand out from the pack so easily. It's hard not to idolize them.  Then there are those who immediately recognize that they aren't the Supermans, but have the drive and ambition to get as far as fast as they can with their ingenuity. These Batmans are self aware and not plagued with doubt or uncertainty - they can sum up their pluses and minuses and figure out where to put them to their best use.

Where do I find myself in all of this? My own personal superhero role model? Well, the philosophy I've found fits best with my "style" in life is the House of HufflePuff in Harry Potter. Of course I always wanted and dreamed of being a Superman. But I'm not. And I'm too plagued with self-consciousness to be a Batman. I'm a HufflePuff - I work hard, I plug away, I slllooowwwwlllyyy and steadily improve. Supermans burn out, Batmans get bored. I keep going.

But I might need something a little more than just recognizing I'm a HufflePuff to keep me motivated and going in derby. Who's the superhero who has overcome mediocrity and kept plugging away until they've succeeded and become amazing? That's the one I can get behind. That's the one who's insignia I want on my car. Even though I work in comics, I'm sadly uneducated in the majority of current superheroes. Recommendations?

Super Role Model

I see a lot of Superman insignias everywhere I go - from people's bags to shirts to getting them painted on the rear windows of their cars. Why the obsession with Superman? He always seemed so boring to me. Born with amazing abilities that no one can touch. Ho-hum. I never found him terribly relatable. Only when I was obsessed with Smallville did I get invested in what Superman was up to (and I blame that on the allure of Tom Welling). But then I came across Bill's Superman monologue in Kill Bill Vol. 2, and Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns and I started to get it. People who like Superman are the same people who value natural talent and ability. Have they had to train to get to that point? Yeah. But training just adds on to their already natural ability. They've got the talent and have discovered what they naturally excel at doing.

So those are the Superman fans. The Batman fans are a different breed - they value technology and smarts above everything else. Weren't born with natural talent? No problem. They'll engineer a solution. They put all their stock in not what they already can do, but what they believe they can figure out. They're crafty, because they've had to be. No one gave them anything they didn't earn.

Both of these types I find can be applied (among other things) to sports. I've met both of these types over and over already in derby. The natural talents who, as soon as they make the league, shoot to the top. They don't understand why other people think it's hard, and it all just seems to fit. The Supermans. Fans especially love the Supermans - they're so glossy and amazing and stand out from the pack so easily. It's hard not to idolize them.  Then there are those who immediately recognize that they aren't the Supermans, but have the drive and ambition to get as far as fast as they can with their ingenuity. These Batmans are self aware and not plagued with doubt or uncertainty - they can sum up their pluses and minuses and figure out where to put them to their best use.

Where do I find myself in all of this? My own personal superhero role model? Well, the philosophy I've found fits best with my "style" in life is the House of HufflePuff in Harry Potter. Of course I always wanted and dreamed of being a Superman. But I'm not. And I'm too plagued with self-consciousness to be a Batman. I'm a HufflePuff - I work hard, I plug away, I slllooowwwwlllyyy and steadily improve. Supermans burn out, Batmans get bored. I keep going.

But I might need something a little more than just recognizing I'm a HufflePuff to keep me motivated and going in derby. Who's the superhero who has overcome mediocrity and kept plugging away until they've succeeded and become amazing? That's the one I can get behind. That's the one who's insignia I want on my car. Even though I work in comics, I'm sadly uneducated in the majority of current superheroes. Recommendations?

Year-iversary

That's right, I almost forgot! A year ago I made it into the league and officially became fresh meat. For a while, that was ALL that I wanted. I was all, "Hey, I never have to be better than this, I don't have to improve at any given rate because I'm IN!!"

Yeah, right - that spirit didn't last. It took my first assessment to bring out my competitve rage -- WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE RULE AT THIS AND I DON'T?? After that, it was all over. I just had to get better, I had to be on even footing with the others I'd tried out with, I had to get on a team! ... 5 months later, after failing every assessment the first time but passing the second, I was drafted one week after my final assessment. Woo hoo!

So what have I learned over the past year? I started out in derby with a fierce desire to get in, get better, get crackin'. That was all I wanted, and I was convince my heart and my life had plenty of room for derby. I wanted all of its goodness, just for me. I approached each practice like my skills and potential were "on hold" so I wouldn't get too discouraged. "So what if I suck at all of these drills?" I'd tell myself. I'd get better, so there was no use worrying about it in the meantime. SURVIVAL, that's all I wanted. Survival, and not to look like a complete ass. As long as I'm not the worst, and I don't let myself get too frustrated, I'm fine.

That motivation worked for a little while, then came scrimmage time. Until I was eligible to scrimmage, my freshie group and I spent scrimmage nights working on basics in a corner of the rink while the big girls got to duke it out in the main space. For 5 consecutive weeks, someone got seriously injured at each and every one of those scrimmage practices that we witnessed. Each injury guaranteed that that particular skater would be off the league and in recovery for a WHILE. So my fellow freshies and I watched, terrified, dreading the time our chance to scrimmage came about. When it finally did, it was a clusterfuck. Limbs flying everywhere. But I was shocked to discover that I lived, and didn't break anything, and actually got back up after being knocked down. Crazy!

Bouting came next, and that's where the real nerves set in. There was just something about ALL of those people watching, friends and family seeing,  ... the public viewing of my skills that instantly turned my legs to jelly and my nerves to mush. I just let myself get beat on over and over, hoping that I'd at least walk away from the bout. It was always fun seeing the look of horror on my parents' faces as I was knocked for a loop right in front of their seats.

After I had a couple bouts under my belt, my work situation changed and long hours were required. I was able to attend practice less and less. Friends of mine in the league stopped going or quit altogether. I had one more bout and then my season was over - I still had to attend practice and keep my skills up, but it was hard to get motivated. A new crop of fresh meat came in, all eager and shiny and new, and I faded into the background. Not an experienced vet, not a shiny new meatie. More commitments and work piled up, I found practices inconvenient and scrimmages discouraging, and I seriously wondered how long I should play at this derby thing when I could risk breaking my wrist (aka my livelihood) every time I got out on the track. I wasn't that fast, I wasn't that agile, I can't block for shit, and the most I've ever been able to do is get in someone else's way. My team barely sees each other, more people I love are leaving, should I keep doing this?

I didn't have to mull it over for too long before I decided - yes. Of course, I should keep doing this. As terrifying and discouraging and frustrating and inconvenient and demanding as derby is, it's worth it. You won't know if you truly love something unless you put that much work into it. It's never going to be easy, but it is going to be fun and challenging and the feeling you get when you realize you've gotten a little bit better is oh-so-encouraging. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing I really need to manage is my attitude - this is fun. I LOVE this. I love the people and the rules and the community and everything involved. All the negativity I see is only coming from myself.

So yeah - droning on here, but after a year I think I'm allowed to look back and analyze stuff. Yay derby. Our relationship is in its sophomore year. :)

Year-iversary

That's right, I almost forgot! A year ago I made it into the league and officially became fresh meat. For a while, that was ALL that I wanted. I was all, "Hey, I never have to be better than this, I don't have to improve at any given rate because I'm IN!!"

Yeah, right - that spirit didn't last. It took my first assessment to bring out my competitve rage -- WHY DOES EVERYONE ELSE RULE AT THIS AND I DON'T?? After that, it was all over. I just had to get better, I had to be on even footing with the others I'd tried out with, I had to get on a team! ... 5 months later, after failing every assessment the first time but passing the second, I was drafted one week after my final assessment. Woo hoo!

So what have I learned over the past year? I started out in derby with a fierce desire to get in, get better, get crackin'. That was all I wanted, and I was convince my heart and my life had plenty of room for derby. I wanted all of its goodness, just for me. I approached each practice like my skills and potential were "on hold" so I wouldn't get too discouraged. "So what if I suck at all of these drills?" I'd tell myself. I'd get better, so there was no use worrying about it in the meantime. SURVIVAL, that's all I wanted. Survival, and not to look like a complete ass. As long as I'm not the worst, and I don't let myself get too frustrated, I'm fine.

That motivation worked for a little while, then came scrimmage time. Until I was eligible to scrimmage, my freshie group and I spent scrimmage nights working on basics in a corner of the rink while the big girls got to duke it out in the main space. For 5 consecutive weeks, someone got seriously injured at each and every one of those scrimmage practices that we witnessed. Each injury guaranteed that that particular skater would be off the league and in recovery for a WHILE. So my fellow freshies and I watched, terrified, dreading the time our chance to scrimmage came about. When it finally did, it was a clusterfuck. Limbs flying everywhere. But I was shocked to discover that I lived, and didn't break anything, and actually got back up after being knocked down. Crazy!

Bouting came next, and that's where the real nerves set in. There was just something about ALL of those people watching, friends and family seeing,  ... the public viewing of my skills that instantly turned my legs to jelly and my nerves to mush. I just let myself get beat on over and over, hoping that I'd at least walk away from the bout. It was always fun seeing the look of horror on my parents' faces as I was knocked for a loop right in front of their seats.

After I had a couple bouts under my belt, my work situation changed and long hours were required. I was able to attend practice less and less. Friends of mine in the league stopped going or quit altogether. I had one more bout and then my season was over - I still had to attend practice and keep my skills up, but it was hard to get motivated. A new crop of fresh meat came in, all eager and shiny and new, and I faded into the background. Not an experienced vet, not a shiny new meatie. More commitments and work piled up, I found practices inconvenient and scrimmages discouraging, and I seriously wondered how long I should play at this derby thing when I could risk breaking my wrist (aka my livelihood) every time I got out on the track. I wasn't that fast, I wasn't that agile, I can't block for shit, and the most I've ever been able to do is get in someone else's way. My team barely sees each other, more people I love are leaving, should I keep doing this?

I didn't have to mull it over for too long before I decided - yes. Of course, I should keep doing this. As terrifying and discouraging and frustrating and inconvenient and demanding as derby is, it's worth it. You won't know if you truly love something unless you put that much work into it. It's never going to be easy, but it is going to be fun and challenging and the feeling you get when you realize you've gotten a little bit better is oh-so-encouraging. As far as I'm concerned, the only thing I really need to manage is my attitude - this is fun. I LOVE this. I love the people and the rules and the community and everything involved. All the negativity I see is only coming from myself.

So yeah - droning on here, but after a year I think I'm allowed to look back and analyze stuff. Yay derby. Our relationship is in its sophomore year. :)

Crawl Back

It's hard getting my groove back - I have no idea how Stella did it. I'm still hiding from scrimmage practice. I have bad memories from the last time I went, got my ass kicked, felt horribly embarrassed, and had trouble breathing. It's so stupid, because it's mainly mental. I'm just getting back into regular practices and scrimmage just doesn't seem right until I've had a few good ones under my belt. I'm not sure what the deal is - I love practice, and I love how much I've improved. True, a lot of people I care about have dropped off of the derby landscape, especially recently. I think that goes a long way towards motivating me. When you feel like a little lone island in a sea of girls with much better skills than you, it's hard to amp yourself up. I love the challenge, but I let myself think too much about everything and it cripples me. This week my mindset is MUCH better. Practice with eager skatertots last weekend helped a lot. I forgot about the FUN part of derby! ... except, of course, when one girl broke her ankle in three places. Just from doing a turn-around-toe-stop. Yikes. That was the second time I'd seen a new skater topple over and break their ankle. Two times two many. Skating isn't a joke, people. The weird thing is I would never have had the guts to try a turn-around-toe-stop at high speeds when I was just starting (*ahem* . . . still don't). I love that this girl had the no guts no glory part down. Sometimes I think that makes the best skaters - I'm so cautious at times it really hampers my improvement.

Balls out is the way to be?

Crawl Back

It's hard getting my groove back - I have no idea how Stella did it. I'm still hiding from scrimmage practice. I have bad memories from the last time I went, got my ass kicked, felt horribly embarrassed, and had trouble breathing. It's so stupid, because it's mainly mental. I'm just getting back into regular practices and scrimmage just doesn't seem right until I've had a few good ones under my belt. I'm not sure what the deal is - I love practice, and I love how much I've improved. True, a lot of people I care about have dropped off of the derby landscape, especially recently. I think that goes a long way towards motivating me. When you feel like a little lone island in a sea of girls with much better skills than you, it's hard to amp yourself up. I love the challenge, but I let myself think too much about everything and it cripples me. This week my mindset is MUCH better. Practice with eager skatertots last weekend helped a lot. I forgot about the FUN part of derby! ... except, of course, when one girl broke her ankle in three places. Just from doing a turn-around-toe-stop. Yikes. That was the second time I'd seen a new skater topple over and break their ankle. Two times two many. Skating isn't a joke, people. The weird thing is I would never have had the guts to try a turn-around-toe-stop at high speeds when I was just starting (*ahem* . . . still don't). I love that this girl had the no guts no glory part down. Sometimes I think that makes the best skaters - I'm so cautious at times it really hampers my improvement.

Balls out is the way to be?

Derby Girl Day!

Today from 12 - 4:00 at Collectors Corner comic book store in Parkville, MD, the Charm City Roller Girls will descend to promote their art, challenge people to Rock Band, and generally awesome things up. I'll be selling my books and signing copies of JAM! so if you're in the area, come pay a visit to your friendly neighborhood rollergirl! :)

Derby Girl Day!

Today from 12 - 4:00 at Collectors Corner comic book store in Parkville, MD, the Charm City Roller Girls will descend to promote their art, challenge people to Rock Band, and generally awesome things up. I'll be selling my books and signing copies of JAM! so if you're in the area, come pay a visit to your friendly neighborhood rollergirl! :)

Derby Girl Day!

Today from 12 - 4:00 at Collectors Corner comic book store in Parkville, MD, the Charm City Roller Girls will descend to promote their art, challenge people to Rock Band, and generally awesome things up. I'll be selling my books and signing copies of JAM! so if you're in the area, come pay a visit to your friendly neighborhood rollergirl! :)

Unplugg-ed

Even just a couple days spent staring at a lake is good for the soul. Even though I couldn't skate on the dirt and gravel roads surrounding my extended family's cabin, I felt energized. I even managed to drag my boyfriend out to jog one morning - proof of the mystical powers of vacation! Before we left I felt pretty bogged down. My team doesn't play in a bout again until October, and let's just say at best, we have a reputation for being un-teamy with each other. Two of the teammates I'm closest to are leaving, and I feel stuck between eager freshies and seasoned vets who are annoyed that I suck. So ... All in all I haven't been feeling very motivated.

Luckily a good friend of mine is preparing for the next tryouts, and I found this great site of daily roller derby exercises. I've got a couple vacations under my belt, some ideas in mind on making the most out of my time ...

Derby seems to be all about highs and lows and plateaus. It's hard staying motivated and competitive and interested year round. So I laxed a little. So what? I think I'm ready to re-commit.

Unplugg-ed

Even just a couple days spent staring at a lake is good for the soul. Even though I couldn't skate on the dirt and gravel roads surrounding my extended family's cabin, I felt energized. I even managed to drag my boyfriend out to jog one morning - proof of the mystical powers of vacation! Before we left I felt pretty bogged down. My team doesn't play in a bout again until October, and let's just say at best, we have a reputation for being un-teamy with each other. Two of the teammates I'm closest to are leaving, and I feel stuck between eager freshies and seasoned vets who are annoyed that I suck. So ... All in all I haven't been feeling very motivated.

Luckily a good friend of mine is preparing for the next tryouts, and I found this great site of daily roller derby exercises. I've got a couple vacations under my belt, some ideas in mind on making the most out of my time ...

Derby seems to be all about highs and lows and plateaus. It's hard staying motivated and competitive and interested year round. So I laxed a little. So what? I think I'm ready to re-commit.

Can't Stop These Feet

I heart footwork drills. Especially when we spend time dissecting each part ad nauseum. What did I learn tonight? Edges and twisting the upper body. We had a special guest coach - the rink owner, who is not only a super kind guy, but an amazing figure skater to boot. At first I thought, "oh great, yet another person coaching who doesn't remember what it was like to suck ..." but luckily he was gracious and just concentrated on showing us a few simple ways to turn around and stay light on our feet. It seems simple enough - the ability to casually turn around while skating. But first you've gotta get this confidence and balance stuff out of the way. Then you can concentrate on whipping your hips and shoulders around - woop! - and make your feet follow. Woop!

Turning around has always been a challenge for me, but each time it's brought up it becomes so much more FUN! One practice we had a little while ago concentrated on jump turns, which I assumed would be painful and embarrassing. But soon I realized I just had to whip my hips around - woop! - and just maintain hang time and then I was golden. Me! Jumping AND turning at the same time! Me, who can't usually get all her limbs cooperating together!

So tonight, with the rink owner's teaching of a quicker way to turn around, and a lot of practice cutting and using the edges of our feet, I felt like I'd nudged my derby skills forward another small step. Woop!

Can't Stop These Feet

I heart footwork drills. Especially when we spend time dissecting each part ad nauseum. What did I learn tonight? Edges and twisting the upper body. We had a special guest coach - the rink owner, who is not only a super kind guy, but an amazing figure skater to boot. At first I thought, "oh great, yet another person coaching who doesn't remember what it was like to suck ..." but luckily he was gracious and just concentrated on showing us a few simple ways to turn around and stay light on our feet. It seems simple enough - the ability to casually turn around while skating. But first you've gotta get this confidence and balance stuff out of the way. Then you can concentrate on whipping your hips and shoulders around - woop! - and make your feet follow. Woop!

Turning around has always been a challenge for me, but each time it's brought up it becomes so much more FUN! One practice we had a little while ago concentrated on jump turns, which I assumed would be painful and embarrassing. But soon I realized I just had to whip my hips around - woop! - and just maintain hang time and then I was golden. Me! Jumping AND turning at the same time! Me, who can't usually get all her limbs cooperating together!

So tonight, with the rink owner's teaching of a quicker way to turn around, and a lot of practice cutting and using the edges of our feet, I felt like I'd nudged my derby skills forward another small step. Woop!