The First Five

Why do the first five minutes of a workout have to suck so bad? A workout can be 30 minutes, or 2 hours, and those first five minutes remain killer. They're the deal-breaker. They give you just enough time to reconsider what you're doing. "Do I really need to be jump roping right now?"

"Wasn't there some errand I needed to run?"

"Come on, it's not like I ever wear a bathing suit, anyway ..."

Your mind decides to take a field day in those first five minutes and thumb through all its greatest hits of excuses. All the tried-and-true ones, the ones that have really proven promising in the past. And even though you've been good about working out, for some reason those first five minutes can make you feel nauseous, jittery, and (how dare they) out of breath! So now you look like a poser, like you're already worn out before you've begun. Sigh.

This is when I like to think of Jack and Kate in those early LOST episodes, when they were overcome by strange situations of fear on the island that they had to deal with. And Jack's method for dealing, that he passed along to Kate, was to count to five. Let the fear take over you, envelope you, and let yourself be terrified for five seconds. And know, as you were counting, that that five seconds were all that you were going to give to fear. After that, you were done, and it was on.

Have I mentioned I've been watching nothing but LOST episodes as I've been working out?

Chips While Driving

I'm a fan of resolutions because I like creating "fresh starts" for myself all over the place. It's an excuse to reinvent myself in some small way, or shake up the humdrum of my routine, or just a way to figure out how to tackle a problem I've been struggling with. Just like Valentine's Day, I view New Year's Day as an opportunity/excuse to do something fun and positive and productive. I don't whine about the reality of whether or not resolutions "actually work". I don't scoff at someone I love trying to do something nice for me on Valentine's Day because "it's a fabricated holiday". So unfortunately, this year I'm already having to make some tough decisions about what I want to do, and what I have time enough to actually do. This year I'll be working on a 2nd graphic novel and more responsibility at my day job. And since I've already been operating as a crazy person from having to juggle work, comic work, freelance work, derby, and derby art committee work, it came time for me to choose.

(And this is really difficult. I'm a Libra, you see.)

So after a lot of hemming and hawing and asking everyone else I knew for their opinion, then promptly ignoring their advice (as is my custom whenever debating anything), ... I at last came to the conclusion that, sadly, I have to hang up my skates for the moment. This is a big, big frowny face for me. Never in my life have I taken on something as challenging and thrilling and wonderful and had to work so hard to earn a place for it in my life. But the sad truth is I can't just skate and go to bouts. Derby requires a lot of love, hard work, participation, and perhaps most wonderfully - it asks for your help in creating it. You don't get to just be a visitor in the land of Derby. Oh no. It loves you, but it asks a lot out of you. And if you're not careful, you'll let it ask for more than you can give.

So I don't want to dwell at this for the moment, because honestly I still haven't made any final decisions about everything (Libra). All I know is if I stay in derby, I'll do a shitty job and will end up bitter and annoyed at every aspect of my life because I'm stretched too thin. For right now, I'm taking a break from the skating part, and helping transition other people into doing more of the committee work I've been doing. Ease my way to the side. And then, when I'm ready and have my act together, I can come back to derby a healthy and whole person again. Because it deserves no less.

Anyway.

My cat has the right idea - let's move forward and enjoy it, okay? My resolutions are going to be gradual but ambitious. Set goals and inch towards them. Unlike the dude I saw shoving chips into his mouth while driving, talking on his cell about his new gym membership, I will be under no illusions as to what I can and can't handle.

Who Was This Person Again?

After over a month of not being on skates, just approaching the world in a bipedal fashion, instead of a rolling one ... I went back to practice on Monday night. *Groan*

Of course, I was dreading it because I didn't feel like having everyone notice that I'd forgotten how to rollerskate and wonder where I'd gone when I left to go throw up in the bathroom. That's the kind of stuff I can put off forever, if need be. But, since I knew I had to start sometime, I figured Monday was as good a time as any. Then I was excited to hear we should bring yoga mats - because to me, that meant possibly up to an hour of yoga after an hour of skating. Yay! Yoga!

But no. Instead, this Monday morphed into what our Speed Skating practices normally look like - an hour of off-skates, killer leg and core exercises and THEN an hour of endurance-based skating. Sigh. I always prefer getting the skating part out of the way before I kill off all of my stabilizing muscles with exercises.

But you know what? I made it through all those off-skates exercises (yay for working out in the off-season!) and survived the 50-lap paceline, and stayed in the game until the 2 hours were up. I kept telling myself I could quit at any moment but then just ... didn't quit. (This is the same tactic I use when jogging - Oh let's just stop at 10 minutes, okay? Alright, 15. Well now you're more than halfway done and it'd be stupid to quit now. Looky! All done!) So now I just have to make it through all this soreness and keep hitting practice after practice, and I should slowwwly return to the person that I once was. Y'know, that person who could do all this without getting as cripplingly sore. What does she look like again?

Who Was This Person Again?

After over a month of not being on skates, just approaching the world in a bipedal fashion, instead of a rolling one ... I went back to practice on Monday night. *Groan*

Of course, I was dreading it because I didn't feel like having everyone notice that I'd forgotten how to rollerskate and wonder where I'd gone when I left to go throw up in the bathroom. That's the kind of stuff I can put off forever, if need be. But, since I knew I had to start sometime, I figured Monday was as good a time as any. Then I was excited to hear we should bring yoga mats - because to me, that meant possibly up to an hour of yoga after an hour of skating. Yay! Yoga!

But no. Instead, this Monday morphed into what our Speed Skating practices normally look like - an hour of off-skates, killer leg and core exercises and THEN an hour of endurance-based skating. Sigh. I always prefer getting the skating part out of the way before I kill off all of my stabilizing muscles with exercises.

But you know what? I made it through all those off-skates exercises (yay for working out in the off-season!) and survived the 50-lap paceline, and stayed in the game until the 2 hours were up. I kept telling myself I could quit at any moment but then just ... didn't quit. (This is the same tactic I use when jogging - Oh let's just stop at 10 minutes, okay? Alright, 15. Well now you're more than halfway done and it'd be stupid to quit now. Looky! All done!) So now I just have to make it through all this soreness and keep hitting practice after practice, and I should slowwwly return to the person that I once was. Y'know, that person who could do all this without getting as cripplingly sore. What does she look like again?

Inspiration in the A.M.!

Omigod it really works. A couple weeks ago, I tried an experiment: to get up and exercise each morning, pre-work. At least 30 minutes of something, be it jogging or following along with the wonderful Roller Derby exercises here. And you know what? All those crazies were right! I felt happier and more energized throughout the day. I walked through the halls with a spring in my step (okay - maybe a hobble, since jogging makes my hips sore). I woke up less tired and more motivated, and all day I patted myself on the back.

This is just one step towards being a happier Morning Monica. M. M. is the one who shuffles around in a.m. darkness, angrily snapping off overhead lights, grumbling to herself and frowning at her boyfriend and cats. She answers every question with "no". She battles through morning rush-hour traffic and even though her commute is 45 minutes long, still isn't prepared to be friendly to people when they try to say "good morning" to her in the parking lot. The attitude can't be blamed on "let me get my coffee first" - no. Morning Monica is a scary, frightening creature who reacts to everything poorly until at least 9:00.

Next step? To read pretty blogs every morning before getting ready. Not just any blogs, pretty blogs. Like this one, that brings well-lit photos and inspires me to create new outfits every day. Or this one, that makes me think of ways to make my house more morning-friendly. Pretty blogs leave me with nothing but positivity on my way out the door, and so what if traffic still unravels me? I'll have knocked out the morning with an energy boost and by looking at pretty things.

Inspiration in the A.M.!

Omigod it really works. A couple weeks ago, I tried an experiment: to get up and exercise each morning, pre-work. At least 30 minutes of something, be it jogging or following along with the wonderful Roller Derby exercises here. And you know what? All those crazies were right! I felt happier and more energized throughout the day. I walked through the halls with a spring in my step (okay - maybe a hobble, since jogging makes my hips sore). I woke up less tired and more motivated, and all day I patted myself on the back.

This is just one step towards being a happier Morning Monica. M. M. is the one who shuffles around in a.m. darkness, angrily snapping off overhead lights, grumbling to herself and frowning at her boyfriend and cats. She answers every question with "no". She battles through morning rush-hour traffic and even though her commute is 45 minutes long, still isn't prepared to be friendly to people when they try to say "good morning" to her in the parking lot. The attitude can't be blamed on "let me get my coffee first" - no. Morning Monica is a scary, frightening creature who reacts to everything poorly until at least 9:00.

Next step? To read pretty blogs every morning before getting ready. Not just any blogs, pretty blogs. Like this one, that brings well-lit photos and inspires me to create new outfits every day. Or this one, that makes me think of ways to make my house more morning-friendly. Pretty blogs leave me with nothing but positivity on my way out the door, and so what if traffic still unravels me? I'll have knocked out the morning with an energy boost and by looking at pretty things.

Orpheus and The Awkward Foot

I'm a huge fan of Greek Mythology. Somewhere around the age of 11 I got a little obsessed, when we started going over the Pantheon and which god was responsible for which cool attribute. I felt like they were divvying up superpowers. Over the years I've read about it, taken extra college courses about it, and started a comic about it. I still get a little thrill every time I see a reference to it in the real world. (Which, in the Western world, is all the time). So a couple weeks ago, when my family and I set out to Fort McHenry for some good ol' fashioned history-learnin', I was pleasantly surprised to see a giant sculpture on the front lawn of one of my old friends:

This particular one is Orpheus, son of Calliope, famed for his mastery of music and poetry (superior to all mankind). I like Orpheus, I don't know much about him except for what he's famous for - his death (beautifully reference in The Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman). So it was funny to see him plunked down in the middle of a historical site, and then even funnier once I read his name - "Orpheus With The Awkward Foot".

Haha.

Immediately I identified with the sculpture. Not only does it appeal to my greek myth nerdiness, but with the name, and the stance of the figure itself, I instantly formed a connection. Awkwardness is embedded in my daily life. I'm not sure why, but it's there. My limbs are so all over the place, it's hard to keep track. Besides that, I often stand a little pigeon-toed, and on skates it's much much worse (which is not good). I usually only get self-inflicted bruises, from banging my way around through the world. And here is this stunning, majestic, imposing figure, sculpted to signify pride and creativity in our country and its founding .... aaaand he's just a bit awkward.

Love.

Orpheus and The Awkward Foot

I'm a huge fan of Greek Mythology. Somewhere around the age of 11 I got a little obsessed, when we started going over the Pantheon and which god was responsible for which cool attribute. I felt like they were divvying up superpowers. Over the years I've read about it, taken extra college courses about it, and started a comic about it. I still get a little thrill every time I see a reference to it in the real world. (Which, in the Western world, is all the time). So a couple weeks ago, when my family and I set out to Fort McHenry for some good ol' fashioned history-learnin', I was pleasantly surprised to see a giant sculpture on the front lawn of one of my old friends:

This particular one is Orpheus, son of Calliope, famed for his mastery of music and poetry (superior to all mankind). I like Orpheus, I don't know much about him except for what he's famous for - his death (beautifully reference in The Sandman comics by Neil Gaiman). So it was funny to see him plunked down in the middle of a historical site, and then even funnier once I read his name - "Orpheus With The Awkward Foot".

Haha.

Immediately I identified with the sculpture. Not only does it appeal to my greek myth nerdiness, but with the name, and the stance of the figure itself, I instantly formed a connection. Awkwardness is embedded in my daily life. I'm not sure why, but it's there. My limbs are so all over the place, it's hard to keep track. Besides that, I often stand a little pigeon-toed, and on skates it's much much worse (which is not good). I usually only get self-inflicted bruises, from banging my way around through the world. And here is this stunning, majestic, imposing figure, sculpted to signify pride and creativity in our country and its founding .... aaaand he's just a bit awkward.

Love.

Wield Those Boobs! For Justice!

I've been kind of obsessed with Power Girl lately. Power Girl who, up until recently, I knew absolutely nothing about. I had heard about Supergirl, and her XXL torso, but I didn't have any interest. I like Superman okay. Why do they need to make a kid sister/copycat/female Superman? He's not interesting enough to inspire a clone.

...Or so I thought! Then Power Girl fell into my lap. She is Superman's cousin, but in some other world/dimension/thing so SuperGirl still exists too. Whatever. What's important is that I found two graphic novels with complete storylines that didn't confuse me with all of the backstory I was missing (this is why most mainstream comics make me anxious - I think of all the endless back issues and multiple universes and years they've been around and give up). Power Girl is a woman with the same powers as Superman, and this is her story about starting her life off fresh in a big city, finding an apartment in Brooklyn, and a vet for her ginger cat.

One would think I wouldn't find Power Girl appealing, on account of her giant bazongas (and by bazongas, I mean BOOBS). Usually big boobs on fictional characters personally insult me (for those of you unaware, I have small boobs). But on Power Girl, they're perfect. She's not just some buxom minx, she is pure power, pure strength, pure woman. Sure, she's got big breasts, but also big muscles and shoulders and hair. She's imposing, which seems to be hard for a superheroine besides Wonder Woman to pull off. Power Girl is confidence concentrate. If I could find that in a vial and pour some in my cereal every morning, I'd be golden. I might have to dilute it - but boy what an improvement.

As it is, I'm currently using her as my spirit animal. I used to shy away from wearing skirts and heels and my hair down at work because I thought I looked too feminine - NO MORE. I tend to feel self-conscious when in a room full of people shorter than me - NEVER AGAIN. I let the world around me frustrate me and make me angry and complain about things like traffic - BEGONE. Now I will be positive, confident, and unabashedly upbeat. (... but I still won't shy away from occasionally punching people)

P.S. These books I've drooled over - written by Justin Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti, illustrated by the amazing Amanda Conner.

Wield Those Boobs! For Justice!

I've been kind of obsessed with Power Girl lately. Power Girl who, up until recently, I knew absolutely nothing about. I had heard about Supergirl, and her XXL torso, but I didn't have any interest. I like Superman okay. Why do they need to make a kid sister/copycat/female Superman? He's not interesting enough to inspire a clone.

...Or so I thought! Then Power Girl fell into my lap. She is Superman's cousin, but in some other world/dimension/thing so SuperGirl still exists too. Whatever. What's important is that I found two graphic novels with complete storylines that didn't confuse me with all of the backstory I was missing (this is why most mainstream comics make me anxious - I think of all the endless back issues and multiple universes and years they've been around and give up). Power Girl is a woman with the same powers as Superman, and this is her story about starting her life off fresh in a big city, finding an apartment in Brooklyn, and a vet for her ginger cat.

One would think I wouldn't find Power Girl appealing, on account of her giant bazongas (and by bazongas, I mean BOOBS). Usually big boobs on fictional characters personally insult me (for those of you unaware, I have small boobs). But on Power Girl, they're perfect. She's not just some buxom minx, she is pure power, pure strength, pure woman. Sure, she's got big breasts, but also big muscles and shoulders and hair. She's imposing, which seems to be hard for a superheroine besides Wonder Woman to pull off. Power Girl is confidence concentrate. If I could find that in a vial and pour some in my cereal every morning, I'd be golden. I might have to dilute it - but boy what an improvement.

As it is, I'm currently using her as my spirit animal. I used to shy away from wearing skirts and heels and my hair down at work because I thought I looked too feminine - NO MORE. I tend to feel self-conscious when in a room full of people shorter than me - NEVER AGAIN. I let the world around me frustrate me and make me angry and complain about things like traffic - BEGONE. Now I will be positive, confident, and unabashedly upbeat. (... but I still won't shy away from occasionally punching people)

P.S. These books I've drooled over - written by Justin Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti, illustrated by the amazing Amanda Conner.

Which Way's Macy's?

Some of the bizarre perks to being a rollergirl are the events you get involved in. Some are charity based, some are guest bartending based, and some involve you freezing your tookus off skating in a parade for two hours, avoiding horse poop to the best of your abilities. This was my second year skating in a parade - the first year I definitely took a more subtle approach. Instead of waiting in the cold pre-parade line up, I sat on the curb by my house, laced up and ready to go as my neighbors stared sideways at me. "I'm in the roller derby, " I said. "Really, I'm going to join my friends as they come by."  "Seriously, I'm one of them, I swear." They sipped their coffee suspiciously and tried not to engage me in further conversation. Finally the parade marched on, my fellow skaters whizzed by, and I was able to prove that I did actually know them. "See? See?? I'm cool!" Well, until a block later when I bit it on an asphalt crack.

This year I decided to attend the whole kitten caboodle - skate in the whole parade - and BOY what a mistake that was! I don't care who you are, you cannot be festive and wearing skates and wearing enough to remain warm in 30-degree-snow-flurrying weather. Not possible. Not even the giant inflatable candy cane balloon that kept blowing into our line of vision could cheer us up as we wondered things like "What's taking so long??" and "How come the Ravens football team gets to sit in a warm BUS, the big wusses??"

But eventually, thankfully, the parade started, we de-iced our toes and numbly skated along, trying to stay upright on the pothole-ridden street and emit tidings of happy jolly derby cheer. And it wasn't long before the community spirit hit us. We thought WE were cold - there were people of all ages sitting, standing, bundled up, lining the entire parade route. We were going to advertise the league, say hi to our fans, participate in fun local camaraderie. But these people on the sidelines - they were freezing their balls off just to say hi, smile, and encourage us on.

And that has to be, by far, one of the best parts I've experienced since moving to the city. Neighbors who will come out, hell or high water, all rosy-cheeked and drunk at 2:00 in the afternoon, just to show their support.

The title of this post is courtesy of John Roberts. :)

Which Way's Macy's?

Some of the bizarre perks to being a rollergirl are the events you get involved in. Some are charity based, some are guest bartending based, and some involve you freezing your tookus off skating in a parade for two hours, avoiding horse poop to the best of your abilities. This was my second year skating in a parade - the first year I definitely took a more subtle approach. Instead of waiting in the cold pre-parade line up, I sat on the curb by my house, laced up and ready to go as my neighbors stared sideways at me. "I'm in the roller derby, " I said. "Really, I'm going to join my friends as they come by."  "Seriously, I'm one of them, I swear." They sipped their coffee suspiciously and tried not to engage me in further conversation. Finally the parade marched on, my fellow skaters whizzed by, and I was able to prove that I did actually know them. "See? See?? I'm cool!" Well, until a block later when I bit it on an asphalt crack.

This year I decided to attend the whole kitten caboodle - skate in the whole parade - and BOY what a mistake that was! I don't care who you are, you cannot be festive and wearing skates and wearing enough to remain warm in 30-degree-snow-flurrying weather. Not possible. Not even the giant inflatable candy cane balloon that kept blowing into our line of vision could cheer us up as we wondered things like "What's taking so long??" and "How come the Ravens football team gets to sit in a warm BUS, the big wusses??"

But eventually, thankfully, the parade started, we de-iced our toes and numbly skated along, trying to stay upright on the pothole-ridden street and emit tidings of happy jolly derby cheer. And it wasn't long before the community spirit hit us. We thought WE were cold - there were people of all ages sitting, standing, bundled up, lining the entire parade route. We were going to advertise the league, say hi to our fans, participate in fun local camaraderie. But these people on the sidelines - they were freezing their balls off just to say hi, smile, and encourage us on.

And that has to be, by far, one of the best parts I've experienced since moving to the city. Neighbors who will come out, hell or high water, all rosy-cheeked and drunk at 2:00 in the afternoon, just to show their support.

The title of this post is courtesy of John Roberts. :)

Weak Sauce

Yes folks, I'm still hibernating. :) Actually, since the off-season began in November, I was going to practice about once a week, and stressing out over not going more than that. Then after having to miss a couple practices in a row, I thought - you know what? Eff this noise. This is the off-season, a time to re-assess and get all my little derby and non-derby duckies in a row, relax, enjoy, get fat, etc. etc. I keep getting trapped between having to miss practice for one reason or another, and then stressing/obsessing over what I missed out on. I did enough of that at the end of last season, so I need to end this trend NOW.

Derby is incredibly demanding and can swallow your whole world up if you let it. For some people, that's what they want, and that's awesome. For those of us who are a bit all over the place, want to do EVERYTHING they're interested in all the time, and forget you need time to work and play and socialize and run errands and work on art projects and work on writing/illustrating books, ... it gets a little stressful. So I started to neglect derby. A LOT. And it's not something you can ignore or take lightly (see above with the swallowing).

I'm not saying you can't do derby and do other things. That's what I'm trying to work out at the moment. I just think everything that deserves your attention deserves ALL of it. So if it's Monday night and you have practice, you go to practice. That time has been allotted for derby. End o' story. If it's Tuesday and you could go to practice or catch up on stuff you've been neglecting, catch up. And so on. Make time for derby and put all your gusto into it, but treat the rest of your life the same way. I'm trying to think of it as tunnel vision. Or as my multiple personalities kicking in. "Derby Monica can't hear you right now, unless it's about Derby. But talk to me after a couple of hours, and Friend Monica or Illustrator Monica might be able to answer your question."

So in emphasis of this fact, I quit going to practice half-assed in the off-season. I said, I am taking time off, this is the date when I will return. And once I return, I will be newly committed. And until then, I'll still be exercising and stretching because - oy. Those muscles do disappear fast!

Weak Sauce

Yes folks, I'm still hibernating. :) Actually, since the off-season began in November, I was going to practice about once a week, and stressing out over not going more than that. Then after having to miss a couple practices in a row, I thought - you know what? Eff this noise. This is the off-season, a time to re-assess and get all my little derby and non-derby duckies in a row, relax, enjoy, get fat, etc. etc. I keep getting trapped between having to miss practice for one reason or another, and then stressing/obsessing over what I missed out on. I did enough of that at the end of last season, so I need to end this trend NOW.

Derby is incredibly demanding and can swallow your whole world up if you let it. For some people, that's what they want, and that's awesome. For those of us who are a bit all over the place, want to do EVERYTHING they're interested in all the time, and forget you need time to work and play and socialize and run errands and work on art projects and work on writing/illustrating books, ... it gets a little stressful. So I started to neglect derby. A LOT. And it's not something you can ignore or take lightly (see above with the swallowing).

I'm not saying you can't do derby and do other things. That's what I'm trying to work out at the moment. I just think everything that deserves your attention deserves ALL of it. So if it's Monday night and you have practice, you go to practice. That time has been allotted for derby. End o' story. If it's Tuesday and you could go to practice or catch up on stuff you've been neglecting, catch up. And so on. Make time for derby and put all your gusto into it, but treat the rest of your life the same way. I'm trying to think of it as tunnel vision. Or as my multiple personalities kicking in. "Derby Monica can't hear you right now, unless it's about Derby. But talk to me after a couple of hours, and Friend Monica or Illustrator Monica might be able to answer your question."

So in emphasis of this fact, I quit going to practice half-assed in the off-season. I said, I am taking time off, this is the date when I will return. And once I return, I will be newly committed. And until then, I'll still be exercising and stretching because - oy. Those muscles do disappear fast!

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.