Friendship

This weekend, Roller-Con is going on in Las Vegas. Tomorrow, a bunch of local derby folks are getting together for Broke-A-Con, the poor man's version. Due to my work schedule, I'm not going to be able to go, not even to simply watch. I think I'm okay with that actually. I've yet to attend one since I've gotten into derby. I've either been informed of it the day of when I've already made other plans or I was deathly ill.

One of the things that happens at both events is the derby wedding. Girls get "married" to their derby wife. I've written about derby wives before. Tonight, I ponder why I don't have one and if I really want one.

I'm not particularly close to anyone I skate with, which could be for several reasons. I don't tend to be very social. My work keeps me busy (a theme you may have noticed), especially on nights and weekends. I've also noticed that the older I've gotten, the harder it is for me to make friends.

When I was a senior in high school, applying for colleges, one college wanted an essay on something I thought I knew, how my thinking had changed and what I thought now, or something like that. I wrote about friendship. (It would be interesting to revisit that essay and see how much social media has wrapped the definition of friendship even more.) When I was younger, friendship was playing with someone because you liked each other. It seems like such a simple thing. Spending time with someone because you like them and you get along.

By the time I got to middle school, I knew that this wasn't the case. Often, people were your friend because you could give something to them. In middle school and high school, I was looked at as someone who was smart and helpful and who's mom made ridiculous desserts. I went from being an outcast to a "friend" rather quickly. Yet none of these "friends" would call me to hang out or invite me to anything.  I never really got out during those years. Sometimes people are friends because of circumstances. You're in the same class or you do the same activity. You start to talk about that thing and yet, this isn't someone that you could call on should you have a crisis and need help. Neither would they call you asking for help. These are really more acquaintances but "friend" is such a kinder word.

There is a third type of friend. I don't know how long it's been since I've had this type of friend, but it's been a while. This sort of friendship is often referred to as "bff" or "bestie". This type of friend is the closest friend, a true friend. They are extremely rare. This is the person that you can tell everything to and trust that they won't spread it around. You can call this person at 3am with a flat tire and you know that they'll get up and help you out. You share thoughts and complete each other's sentences, though not in the Pinky and the Brain manner.

I'm not so good at these types of friendships. Everyone has been burned and everyone has baggage. I've spent so many years assuming that everyone will hate me when they meet me (it's not paranoia; in middle school, people hated me because of a rumor that had started when I missed the all 6th grade camp due to debilitating cramps), that it's hard to sometimes wrap my head around the idea of people liking me. I know people do and I know that I can and do connect with people. It's just not usually as anything more than an acquaintance though.

I see friends who are derby wives who go out of their way for each other on the track and off it. They are there for the hard stuff that happens and share in the happy times. I see the friendship, the bond that they have and I admire it. I'd love to have something like that. I've seen other friends who have gone through derby wives as time flies. It seems to be more of a phase than an actual commitment to each other.

I wish I understood how the tight bonds occur and how to find that. Except that's the trick to it. You don't go looking for it. It shows up over time.

For the first time in over two years, I realize that my attitude has changed. I've spent time, almost desperately, trying to connect with people on a level that would cause them to want to be derby wives. Or even just close friends. That desire has changed. I still want that connection but I don't want to force it or have it forced on me. I want to connect with someone and decide together that we should spend more time and actually *spend* that time together. There's always talk about hanging out together outside of practice, and maybe everyone else does and I just didn't get the memo because I missed a practice or didn't go to an extra thing, but I rarely see it. I think that's going to be one of my goals for this session of Debs. I tried to do it at the end of last session but between work and getting married, I simply ran out of time. I wasn't fully committed to doing it. As with everything else in derby, parkour and life, I need to commit to it in order to succeed.

Crosstraining

During the season, we do what is called dry land practices. This is a brutal off skates practice that helps us to build muscles and endurance so that we're better on our skates. I love and loathe these practices. It's awesome what I can get my body to do when I push it hard but the next two days usually suck as I hurt everywhere.

It is strongly recommended (though not required; remember, I'm in a recreational league) to do dry lands on our own and to do some cross training to build up muscles and endurance. I've gotten better at doing some exercises on my own, mostly balance and core exercises, and eventually the endurance will be come once my bike is repaired by my husband, which will happen after our bedroom is finished. Why are there never enough hours in the day? The great thing is that he use to bike hundreds of miles in a day. He's not at that level anymore, but he's going to help increase my endurance by getting me to keep up with how far he goes.

But I wanted more than just core work and biking. My husband also trains in parkour and after some nudging, he's gotten me into it. So what is parkour?

According to wikipedia, "parkour is a physical discipline and non-competitive sport which focuses on efficient movement around obstacles", but what does that end up looking like? It looks something like this:


I can't actually do any of that. Yet. I mean, I've only been training since the beginning of June but it reminds me a lot of derby.

The guy in the video, he's one of the trainers and owners at Fight of Flight Academy and he's said some things that have really stuck with me and reinforce what I've already learned in derby.

Keep trying and training and remember where you are now because in a week, a month and a year, you will have improved if you keep training.

This isn't an accurate quote but the meaning is there. Within the gym, there are areas that are deemed impossible and they practically are impossible. I've learned though that sometimes traceurs (this is what someone who does parkour is called) work on something not to succeed at it but to push themselves harder. Last week, the class I took got to experience these areas. Watching our trainer attempt to do a move and fail because it's so difficult helped me to know that it's okay if I fail. He then pointed out that even though you may never be able to do that move, over time, you can look back and see how far you've come. He also pointed out that you're still working the muscles, so it's not a waste to do the move as best you can.

This mindset helps so much in derby. My first session of Debs, all I could see was my weaknesses. I thought it was being realistic when really, it was preventing me from improving. It took others pointing out how far I'd come that I was able to appreciate where I was then. Even though there are still things I struggle with, there are so many things that have improved and I can easily look back and remember when it was deemed, by myself, impossible to do those things. It's also a good reminder that you just can't show up once a week and expect to improve. You must continue to train and only then will you see improvement.

Commit to your move

Often in roller derby, I've not committed to something. Sometimes it's a stop, sometimes it's turning around. It's even been not committing to just staying standing. By not committing, I'm giving myself permission to fail. That lack of commitment automatically leads to failure as I don't believe I can do it.

Guess what? The same is true in parkour.

Last week in class, we were learning a new (to me) move. We'd already been training for a while and we were building up to more complicated moves. There were several times that I failed. It didn't take much for the problem to be found. It wasn't my shoes or my abilities. It was that I hadn't committed to the move. The times when I was close to making the move or when I did get it right, I was committed to doing it and I knew I would do it. When I hesitated or simply didn't give it my all, I failed. I was trying to learn how to do a shoulder roll (think a somersault, but going at an angle). At one point, I simply ended up flopping onto the ground and roll on my side. Before anything was said to me, I blurted out "I know, I wasn't committed!" That lack of commitment kind of hurts. We train on mats but it still hurts to just flop down onto a floor with mats. While I was a bit dizzy at that point, that really doesn't excuse deciding to not commit. It's the same thing when I'm on skates. If I'm not going to commit to a movement, I shouldn't do it as it'll just end up hurting.

Get out of your head

One of my biggest problems with skating is that I think too much. My coaches always know when I'm in my head and it's often because I'm trying to figure out what my body is suppose to be doing instead of letting it do it. These times are when I screw up the most. When I stop thinking, things flow and suddenly my body knows what I'm doing.

I have approached obstacles in my parkour class and stopped dead in front of it because I started thinking. It's often the thought that this is kind of scary or trying to figure out which leg goes where but I end up not being able to do it. It's funny how active thought can cause the body to stop functioning.

When I went to Colorado over the 4th of July holiday, I ended up needing to blow off some steam. I went for a walk and eventually came to a parking lot. Since starting parkour (it's very addicting), I've started to look at my environment differently and wondering if I can move over obstacles instead of around them. (The same thing happened with skating except it was more a question of what it would be like to skate on a particular surface.) In almost a zen state of mind, I started doing safety vaults in the parking lot. By the time I was done, I was running at the barriers in front of me and vaulting over them successfully. Except when I started to think about what I was doing. I wanted to work on a couple of other vaults and couldn't quite remember how the are executed but thinking about it caused me to essentially freeze up and not be able to do anymore vaults.

No Pain, No Gain?

After dry land practices, we're told that we're going to feel it in our muscles the next day and that this is a good thing because it means we worked hard. I get the same thing with parkour. The funny thing is that even though it hurts and I'm sore and moving seems a bit too much, I no longer think of it as pain. A couple of years ago, being out of breath and having my core be aching would have been torture and more pain than I could handle. Today? I like the feeling. I feel alive and accomplished. Every time I leave feeling exhausted, I want to do it again. I've even taken parkour classes two days in a row. This may not have been my best idea ever, but it was an amazing feeling. I think I need to come up with a new phrase as I'm gaining so much (working on balance and core as well as some of the mental road blocks) but it's no longer seen as pain. If there has been nothing else that I've gained from derby (and there's been a LOT), I know that this change in attitude has made my life so much more than it's ever been.

One year, two year, green year, blue year

It's been a couple of months since I last wrote but it's been a busy couple of months. It's been a busy year to be honest.

Since I last wrote, I've done the following:

-Gotten married and thus became a step-mom












-Traveled to St. Louis

-Joined a church
-Started gardening again













-Started cross-training in parkour
-Got yet another new set of boots, Antik AR-1's, after trying on as many pairs as possible










-Turned 31
-Traveled to Colorado

Among all of that, I've found some time to skate and a lot of time to reflect on derby and life in general. I've come to realize that even though my progress is slower than I'd like it to be, I have a lot on my plate and can only do so much in the time I have. Priorities have never really been my favorite thing. Something always ends up having to be put aside. I'm also not really good at priorities, at least, I haven't been in the past. I've gotten a lot better at that in the last few months. I've learned that my body can only do so much and will shut down on me if I push too hard. I've also learned that it's okay to not have derby be my number one priority. This has probably been the strangest part of it as I really want to play derby. Right now, I'm training to play recreational derby. In order to really play derby, I'd have to find an entirely different line of work and for me, derby isn't worth it. I enjoy my job too much to leave it and work in an office with normal hours. In fact, I'm sure I'd go extremely twitchy and not last very long in such an environment. Days in which I'm stuck behind the computer usually end with my head hurting because I'm having to write justifications for billing or why we should buy something. These are not my favorite days. Regardless, it's okay that derby isn't my end-all-be-all. Perhaps in a future stage of my life, I'll want it to be, but right now, I'm happy with where I am.

Here I am trying to do a T-stop. I can do those now.

Two years ago, I just started skating and was very "green" to skating. I tried out for one of the local leagues. I didn't make it, though I didn't imagine that I would. When there are twice as many skaters as there are positions, it's okay to be realistic about your odds. At this point, I was still struggling to stand up on skates and stop without running into something. I'm sure I looked like Bambi on ice. Make that a newborn Bambi on ice. Graceful I was not.



After the tryouts, those who made it got really into it and I started to look into other options. The recreational league I'm in now was just starting to form. Learning that they were going to practice on Sundays ruled it out for me. I was already committed to working at the Renaissance Festival and while I'm sure my friends would have made it possible for me to work there and do derby (which they ended up doing last year), I felt that I owed them and that it wouldn't work for me anyway due to my work schedule having a lot of Sunday commitments.

Then came my derby break-up and my anger at it. I didn't want to hear anything about derby because it was so frustrating. Once I finally started skating again (I wasn't ever stupid enough to get rid of everything just because of a bad experience), I realized that I loved skating too much to give it up and that I don't always like the people in derby. In fact, I sometimes just don't like people at all. People make a lot of noise and bother. But I'm doing a team sport, so that probably means I should get use to people. For the most part, I do like people. I simply don't like politics. Eventually I got into the rec league.

Last year I consider my blue year. I'd joined the Debs and one of our colors is blue. A lot has changed from the end of the first season to the end of this past season. When I joined Debs, I didn't want to get to know people. First of all, I assumed that they wouldn't like me as I'm not exactly normal. I was also afraid of judgement because I'd missed the first practice. Secondly, work kept me away from a lot of practices. I made a little over half of them but it's hard to connect with people when you don't see them that often. On top of that, I had no idea what to talk to people about. I wasn't really ready to get into derby hardcore again. There was more to life for me than just derby. I think I only made one bout that season so it wasn't even like I could talk about the latest game.

I'm in the gold dress. Notice how we have a table all to ourselves.

The fantastic thing was that I did get my confidence back and I was eventually able to open up to my fellow skaters. Due to where I was emotionally in my dating life, I do regret not being able to get closer during our year end party because I was too worried about my date feeling left out. Until later that evening, I was still worried about how others would view me and that I would somehow fall short of their expectation.



Thankfully that night, a dear friend managed to get across to me about how derby is about self. No one else can get you to try hard or even go to practice. You have to drive yourself to your goals in derby. Team mates will support you but should you get injured or simply stop going to practice, very few will track you down in the "real" world. If I hadn't witnessed this myself, I may not have believed it. From last fall to the spring, quite a few skaters left Debs for a variety of reasons. When my curiosity (and concern) got the better of me, I messaged a couple of them to find out if they were still in Debs (when you miss practices, it's hard to know who's there when you aren't). Neither of them were and both were surprised and touched that I'd reached out to them because no one else had.

Granted, these are their words and I don't know if others reached out to them or not but their reaction makes me think that they had been put on the back burner for some people. Why? Because they weren't visible.

After the last practice of this year, a group of use went to Dairy Queen for a post-practice ice cream (very tasty!). As some of us started back to our cars, there was a conversation about people who weren't around and what had happened to them. Most of the time, we all seemed to struggle with names of the people because they simply hadn't been around.

I know that this isn't the only side of derby. Derby is very gray because it's not just one thing. There were times that I had to miss practice and I'd get messages about being missed at practice. That meant more to me than those ladies probably realize. It meant that I hadn't been forgotten and that touched me.

I even won an award this year, the Energizer Bunny, for never stopping.

So I sit here now, two years after starting to skate and am pleased with where my life has gone. It's been an interesting path and there have been people who are no longer there beside me but there are so many more who are there with me. After re-watching a video from my drum corps, I remembered another truth I learned then. No matter what happens, if I join a league or not, I will always be a part of the Debs and the feelings and experiences I've had so far can never be taken away from me. They are real and mean more than any competition or tryout. While I may not be a real roller girl, I've certainly had some amazing experiences that no one can take away from me.

Debs at the year end party.