Drum Corps to Derby to Parkour

Last weekend, I gave one of  my derby coaches a ride into practice. On our way there, she asked me how parkour was going and if I'd done it "in the wild". The more interesting question that she asked was this: Would I have done parkour if it wasn't for Debu-Taunts? She asked after I talked about knowing that it'll take me years to be able to do any of the really cool things that I see the coaches and the other people I try with do because I know that they've taken years to be able to do it. And honestly, no, I wouldn't have even tried parkour if I hadn't gotten involved in roller derby and the Debu-Taunts. To be fair, I probably wouldn't have done derby if I hadn't done drum corps.

Until I started doing derby, drum corps has been the hardest physical activity I'd been involved in. We ran. A lot. While breathing. In tempo. I remember one time that the horn players were told that the next one of us to drop our horns lower than where they should be would be forced to stand there while the rest of the corps ran a lap around the field. A couple of soprano players (trumpet sized bugle) dropped their angle and we all had to run while they stood there, knowing that they had let everyone else down by not doing their part. We spent all summer perfecting an 11 minute show. We did push-ups and practiced in the rain. Recently, I pulled out my old tour video and watched it.

Yes, that's really me.  No, my hair isn't that short anymore.

It's amazing how tan I was after that summer (and I did use sunscreen all summer but when you're outside all day, you end up getting tan regardless) and how awful my hair looks short. The other amazing thing is how tight of a team we were by the time we got to quarter finals. We laid it all out on the field and gave our best performance. Our coaches and staff told us to be proud of ourselves because we didn't hold back and that no matter what, no one would ever be able to take away the feeling that we were having. No score would ever change what we had done.

Fast-forward to a couple of years ago, long past my time doing drum corps. This fall is my fourth session in Debs. I've been hesitant about blogging because there is just so much to say that I don't know if I can even manage to get it all out. There have been some really awesome things like making it through sections of our jumping drills or managing to do real push-ups. But there have also been things that have gotten to me like freaking out over being timed to do as many laps as possible in 5 minutes or the fact that skating wasn't my priority this past summer. Yet there have been some amazing changes this session that I have seen in myself.

Our first on skates practice, we were told to be ready at 4pm, meaning on skates and in gear and ready to go. Since a couple of people showed up just a little before 4, they weren't ready. So the rest of us did push-ups and crunches until they were ready. My mind went straight back to those moments in drum corps when we had to do similar. It sucks to do them but it sucks even more to be the person who is causing it to be done. It hasn't happened since and while I know I mentally groaned, I didn't get bent out of shape for having to do it.

The day we did skill assessments, I was in my head even before I got to practice. I was convinced last year that I would make it into the contact ready group. I didn't. It took all year to figure out that it was because of my priorities (job is higher than derby in most cases) prevented me from being consistent in my training. By not being at practice every week, I wasn't able to build on what I was learning. In some ways, I was having to start at the same point every time instead of moving forward. I wasn't sure I could handle another session in the pink (beginner) group. Not that I don't have things to work on but I know I've moved past being terrified of being on wheels. As we worked through the different skill evaluations, I realized that we were oddly numbered at times. I ended up doing some of the drills more than once (one of them, the falling drill, I wanted to do again for my own peace of mind to show myself that I can do better double knee falls than I had done). Instead of letting someone finish on their own, I skated with them because even if we don't compete, we are a team. I know how many times it's helped me complete something when there's been someone else doing it besides me.

Non-skating bruise, but look at the pretty purple.

To my great shock and surprise, I've been moved up to the contact ready group. It's a new intermediate level, so we aren't scrimmaging but we are able to start hitting each other. I will admit to kind of being obsessive about checking my facebook status for the first several days afterwards to see the words I had posted about making contact ready. I may have even giggled in delight in seeing my name on the list of the purple (contact) group. Now I chuckle to myself that the contact group is the purple group because that's the color of bruises.



This was all a couple of weeks ago and I've since had my first contact practice. I think we were all eager and nervous about starting. I say this with confidence because we were thinking too much. Before we gave and received our first hits, we worked on driving, or pushing, someone right next to us. When we were simply skating next to each other with slimy spines (like a cat, leaning completely up against each other), we had no problems. Yet as soon as we were suppose to do something else, we all started to have issues, the main one being that we were no longer slimy.

It's hard sometimes to not think about something new. There's the question of where my weight goes and am I steering with the correct foot. Eventually, we'll get to the point where we just do it without thinking. Even now, we shouldn't think because it causes us to doubt ourselves.

Tonight, my husband and I went to a parkour class. As we drove down, he asked what was on my mind as I seemed inside my head. This wasn't a good sign. When we started to do warm-ups, I noticed that I was inside my head. I have no idea where I was in it, but I was definitely inside of it. I wondered if I should just stop then and not continue with class but it seems there's a strong streak of stubbornness in my family. Hoping that once I was working my body, I would get out of my head, I went ahead. We were working on vaults and there were a lot of us. In theory, vaults are easy. Especially when you use your upper body a lot, which I don't. I probably do more than others since I work in theatre but most of my power is in my legs.

The first vaults we ran through went well enough.


I'm still not confident enough about doing a speed vault, so I tend to do safety vaults, and I'm sure I could probably go faster on them. Then we got to the vault I hate most. I hate this vault more than I hate any of the plyometrics we've done in derby. This vault is difficult and awkward. The kong vault. Now for guys, it's not nearly as awkward but I am well endowed. Additionally, as a woman, my body is built differently than a man's so I can't just do what they do. I avoided going to the vault classes for a month once because they were focusing on kong vaults. That's how much I hate them. As we were reviewing them and working through an obstacle course, I was at the end of the line (there may have been one person behind me). This way, I would hopefully get some distance before a line of teenage boys (and my husband) got behind me, watching me struggle with this vault. I know from derby that I shouldn't care what others think and that I shouldn't compare myself to others but it's hard. It's hard watching these teenage punks (and my husband) effortlessly do something that seems impossible to me.


Easy, right? Except for that whole "getting your knees between your arms" bit, which I struggle with a lot. Sometimes I mentally blame derby because so much of what we do needs our knees apart (no really! for balance and stuff) that it's weird to have my knees together. There's also an exercise we do for derby called frog leaps (I also hate these, but not nearly as much as I hate kong vaults) where our arms are between our legs. I'm pretty sure I'm giving my body mixed messages (ie, fall in parkour, slap the ground and have your hands open; four point fall in derby, tuck in your fingers so no one rolls over them) but I'm hoping the differences in gear and environment is keeping too many wires from getting crossed.

Tonight, I got one-ish kong vault looking thing. I attempted a second and I was in my head, so much so that my instructors noticed. At least if I was freaking out over something specific (vaulting over bars is scary; I don't want to do a face plant), I could at least figure out a way to deal with it. Instead, I was simply wandering around in my head as though I was lost. As I struggled doing this a second time, on a higher beam, I got more frustrated. It's been a month since I'd gone to class (work/home life getting in the way) and I tend to be really hard on myself even when I know my circumstances. The more frustrated I got, the harder it became.  A comment was then made about watching my shins. I know it was suppose to be playful but I was way past the point of frustration. That ended up being the end of class for me. I walked away and calmed down enough to come back and watch what everyone else was doing. I was far too self-conscious to try anything else. One of the boys in the class did ask if I was okay, making sure I hadn't gotten hurt. How does one explain a bruised ego to a teenage boy though? It's not that I don't think they'd understand but more that I think they wouldn't understand the point. It's much easier in the abstract to say that I'm not going to be so hard on myself and that I know that it's something that takes time and work. When trying to do so in reality, sometimes frustration wins out.

Yet again, it all leads back to drum corps. If I can learn how to play a baritone bugle (I'm a flute player) in less than six months to successfully march in a drum corps, then I can certainly try roller skating. If I can go from not being able to stand, on carpet, in the worst skates (roller rink rentals) ever to learning to hit other women in two and a half years, then I can try parkour. In some ways, drum corps was easy. I'd done marching band and I studied music. I'd never done it so intensely, in the heat, never really knowing what state I was in, but I had a background that made it easier. Before I went to a roller rink on Valentine's day 2010, I don't think I'd ever put on skates. Maybe once at a family reunion a million years ago (the late 1980s) and if I did, I probably stayed on the grass and didn't actually skate on them. The most physical activity I'd done to that point was drum corps and work. I took a little bit of karate in college so I knew I had some form of coordination but that was about it.

That means for parkour, I'm already doing a physical activity in roller derby. I have a background there. I know how to move my body, mostly. I understand the importance of landing on the balls of my feet and bending my knees. There is a foundation. In my childhood, I didn't play on the monkey bars and do the crazy bar flips. I was afraid of heights and deemed such activities a sure sign of insanity. When we had a gymnastics unit in elementary school gym class, I could do a front roll and that was about it. Already, I've moved leaps and bounds ahead of where I was when I started parkour in June. If I can be working on cartwheels and vaults and jumping at walls on purpose in less than 5 months, how much more will I be able to do in two and a half years? I'm guessing it'll be a lot more.

Better Every Day

In that period of time between graduating from college and finding a real job, I decided to run away and join a drum corps for the summer. No, seriously. I had no idea what I was going to do after college, so I decided to learn a completely new instrument and ride around on a bus, touring the US while learning an 11 minute show.

That 11 minutes would change my life.

It's been almost a decade since that summer and I still look back on it fondly. A small part of me regrets part of the reason I did it, which was to prove to someone else (another drum corps) that I could march in a division I corps. (Note: Back when I marched, there were 3 divisions of competition. Division I was the elite and large drum corps) Yet, even for that crummy reason to march (this is why I didn't start skating again just to prove to some people in a small league that I could do it; they wouldn't care and it would be the wrong attitude), I learned a lot of valuable things from it.

We marched with the motto of "Better Every Day". Too often in life, we're worried about how we compare to others and we want to be better than them. In my drum corps, The Pioneer, Better Every Day was about self. You never compared yourself (in theory) to your peers but to yourself. Yesterday, you could hold the horn up for 2 minutes without getting shaky arms, then today you strive for 2.5 minutes. It was about seeing the small improvements and then being able to look back over a period of time and seeing how big all of those small improvements really were.

This was probably one of the best things I learned because man has it come in handy over the years.

Last summer, I was epically sick and could barely breath, so I didn't skate much until just before Debs started up again. This summer, it's been a matter of priorities. Over the course of the summer, I've come to terms with the fact that skating isn't my number one priority and that this is an Okay Thing. I work a very demanding job and I'm newly married AND I'm suddenly a Parental Figure. Responsibilities have changed as has my time commitments. Instead of freaking out and despairing melodramatically about how I'm stuck in a place and how Everyone Else Has Surpassed Me, I'm thinking more about the little things that I have improved on.

I can look back on this blog and read all of the things that I can now do, but the biggest one has been my change in confidence and attitude. I'm so happy for my Deb sisters who made it through boot camp and thrilled at those who were drafted. I know that I'm going to be far below in skill compared to those who didn't get drafted but hey, they just spent a summer getting their butts kicked by roller girls. They worked *hard* all summer and I know that it's not a commitment I can make in my life right now. This is also an Okay Thing. It's hard work and I enjoy it and I love how much I've improved.

Saturday I took a free parkour class offered at Fight or Flight Academy and then had an hour to kill before the class I was taking as part of my membership. So what did I do in that hour to stay limber? I went and found a place to skate for a bit. This was, annoyingly, my first time on my Antiks and to say I love them is a huge understatement. They felt like an extension of me. It was amazing! I didn't have much time on them between trying to find a place to skate, my husband calling and then having to get back to the gym, but it was a blast.

It was actually that second class that inspired me to write. One of the biggest things I've been learning in parkour is how to change downward momentum into forward momentum. This involves rolling. My dear husband has challenged me to be able to do a roll while wearing skates. I'm not entirely sure that this will ever happen but then I never thought I'd do parkour or derby either, so we'll see.

At 4pm on Saturdays, the gym offers two parkour classes; a beginner's class and a 30+ class. Often the two classes are lumped together but yesterday I was asked what I wanted to work on. I was surprised to learn that I was going to get my own 30+ class, which would really be more like a private lesson as I was the only one who qualified for that age group. I asked if we could work on rolling because it's been one of my weak points. I then spent an hour rolling and doing various exercises to improve my rolls.

Having spent two years learning how to fall on my knees and to fall small, it's been interesting trying to roll long. Rolling long means that my energy and momentum is moving forward instead of down, which would be into the ground and hurt. It's been really frustrating (and makes me dizzy) to keep trying these rolls and only feeling myself flop onto the ground and do something that isn't at all like a roll. Yet, over the course of the hour, Skinny, the trainer, started to point out all of the little things that were improving in my rolls. They were smoother. This one was longer. Once I started using my legs (there's a blog post about explosives legs being in derby and parkour somewhere in my head) and arms, instead of just letting them exist, I got more power in my rolls and could stand up. By the time we were done (Skinny insisted that I end on a good note), I was actually doing shoulder rolls that looked and felt how they were suppose to, mostly. 

It felt really good to hear that I should be working on and celebrating the small improvements because over time, they will become big ones. It was also encouraging to hear that all of these things require constant training and that you never stop working on the basics.

Over the course of the afternoon, I could feel all of those small changes and how big of a change they've had in me. I know that tomorrow I will be better at skating than I was today because I'm working on things off my skates and finding time to get back on my skates. Tomorrow, I'll get better at parkour because I'll find time to work on one thing to improve some muscle.

I am thankful that there's about 3 weeks left until Debs starts up again because I know I'm going to need it. I'm not sure where skating and derby are going to land on my overall priority list but I do know that my main goal is to get better every day.

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.

Why Do I Skate?

It's been a rough time for me lately. Mostly emotionally but sometimes that's harder. A sore muscle I can stretch. A cold I can treat with rest and liquids. But emotional pain? Much harder to process. Add into the fact that it isn't just coming from one source right now, but several. My life is definitely in a much different place than I would have imagined it would be a year ago.

I've not been improving. More accurately, I don't feel like I'm improving because work has taken priority over skating. It's the side-effect of working in theatre, which I absolutely love. I've written about it before. I'm extremely lucky to be doing what I love and getting paid enough to do more than make ends meet. I also wouldn't really do well in a corporate environment.

So because of this feeling of frustration and disappointment, I'm re-evaluating why I skate.

THE REASONS I COULD BUT DON'T USE


Roller derby has been gaining popularity faster than a semi-truck with burned out brakes down a mountain pass. Everyone wants to do it. Or at least everyone wants to be "cool" enough to do roller derby. I'm not doing roller derby to be cool or because it's popular. Usually when something is popular, I steer far away from it, usually because it won't hold interest for me.

I don't skate to be cool or because it's popular.


Two years ago this coming fall, I was told that I might not ever be athletic enough and was too old for roller derby. Revenge can be a great motivator. And trying to prove someone else wrong is just as powerful. Except it leaves a bitter taste because the other person really doesn't care. Trust me, I've done it before.

I don't skate to prove to anyone that I can.


For whatever reason, the derby world and the Ren. faire world here in Minnesota has a lot of cross-over. It would make sense to do derby because "everyone else" is doing it. This is related to the idea of doing it because it's popular. Plenty of my friends also have tattoos but that doesn't mean I'm ever going to get one just because everyone else is doing it. I've been hearing about derby years before That Movie came out, so I've known about it for a while. Anyone in this group could have easily tried to convince me to skate because they can do it.

I don't skate because everyone else does it.


When you mention roller derby to most people, they immediately imagine girls in fish nets and hot pants beating the stuffing out of each other. There have been women who have mentioned that they wish they could play so they could use their aggression and beat people up. What people who are only casually into the sport don't realize is that it's no longer a blood bath. Yes, players hit each other but then football players tackle each other. The teams and players that are really good use hits in a smart way not out of pure aggression.

I don't skate because I'm angry and want an excuse to hit people.


Some people start exercising or a sport to lose weight. According to the BMI (which is a load of bollocks as far as I'm concerned), I'm obese. Yet if you were to look at me, you couldn't think so. Yes, there are some squishy bits but most of those are good (really, I'm not smuggling melons). Most of my frame is made up of muscle and muscle weighs more than fat. The really cool thing is that I have been loosing weight. It's a nice little perk but it's not the reason why I skate.

I don't skate so I can weigh less.


SO WHY DO I SKATE?


To those who can skate with ease and those who have never tried, let it be known that skating can be -ing hard. The first time I put on skates and tried skating, I fell at least 20 times. My skates with crappy ABEC 1 bearings and outdoor wheels spun too much for me that I couldn't stand up on carpet. Rental skates were something I could barely handle. It was one of the hardest 30 minutes in my life.

After that one time, I could have easily given up. No one would have blamed me. In a lot of way, I was along for the ride. My friend came along with a group of us to watch derby and she decided we needed to do it. At that time, I knew it wasn't something I could do. I had no faith in myself. In fact, nearly a year earlier I commented on a facebook post saying "I've actually never roller skated before...but I am a little intrigued...I'm just not sure I have the personality for it."

Yeah, I'll give you a moment to stop laughing at that one.

It's how I felt though. I was given gear and was terrified to go skating on my own. While I admired the women on the track, I was sure that I could never be one. I've spent my whole life avoiding sports and having my clumsiness reinforced. Skating is basically gliding along and when I hit a patch of ice, I would fall spectacularly. I could trip on flat surfaces. So the idea of putting me on skates was extremely terrifying. But I did it because I had a friend extremely enthusiastic who believed in me far more than I did.

Unlike many things in my life, skating is the first that I approached without previous knowledge. I'd never skated before and, as far as I know, no one in my family has either. For the first time, I understood why playing the same blasted scale over and over on my flute was important. It took nearly two decades but skating was where I finally applied the lessons of practicing music. No one expected me to be perfect and they encouraged me. Perfect strangers at the skating rink would offer advice and never in a condescending way. They truly were excited to see someone learning how to skate.

It would have been so easy to give up but I didn't. I had no illusions about the odds of playing derby right away. There is so much to learn and I was simply trying to figure out how to stop without having to crash into something and to stand up without rolling away. It became fun. Shortly thereafter, it hurt to skate. Not physically (I mean, yes it was uncomfortable as I was using muscles I usually don't but that's not the focus right now), but emotionally. Being told I would probably never be good enough completely deflated me. I didn't want anything to do with derby so I didn't. It took over a month to get me to simply go skating again. It took being sleep-deprived and having my friend offer to turn in my paperwork (I was working a show) to get me to agree to join the Debs. I was so guarded for the first session that I didn't really get to know the other skaters until the very end of it. I didn't want to be told that I couldn't do it because I wasn't good enough. Debs is a recreational league so there should be a place for me, right? It took having my faith restored in my abilities (and some crying; there was definitely crying) for me to be able to open up.

But I don't think I've ever actually answered why I skate to anyone, not even myself. Which is why it's taken me over a week to write this entry. It's been hard to figure out why exactly I skate. I've also realized that it's not true that I've gotten nothing out of the practices I've made. I've just not gotten to where I want to be, which is often how life seems to work.

I skate because I love the feel of being an athlete. I love the speed of going around a track and the exhilaration of a sudden stop.

I skate because it allows me to meet some of the most amazing people I've ever met. They inspire me to push harder.

I skate because it's who I am. It was a hidden part of me that needed to be found and shown where it belonged. That piece of me belongs on skates.

I skate derby because I can leave everything off the track and for that short time, I am who I am with no one able to tell me otherwise.

I skate derby because I can show the world who I am, a strong, confident and loving woman, simply by going around a track.

I skate derby because the bond I've formed with my team mates is as strong as blood relations.

I skate derby with the team I do because the showed me that I am athletic enough and that I can do anything if I want to do it. I skate with them because I don't have to prove myself to anyone.

Discouraged

It's been quite a while since I've written here and I know exactly why. I'm discouraged. Extremely discouraged. I've been working harder this session than I have before. Every opportunity I have to do something to improve my body, I take, even if it's something simple as balancing on each leg during a show or being very aware of my core while moving stage weights. Yet, I'm still in the lower level group, even though when we work on skills passed on our own assessments, I'm at the higher end of the scale. What good does it do me to have people tell me how awesome I'm doing and how much I've improved when I'm still stuck where I am? I have seen physical improvements in my body. People, including myself, are amazed at how much weight I've lost and how much more agile I've become. I'm down several sizes in clothing and continue to shrink.

Why bother though?

Due to work, I've missed some practices lately. It's my job and I love my job. There are some events that are my events and I have to work them. Some events are everyone's burden, so we all have to be there. My boss has been all kinds of accommodating by trying to find other people to work certain shows.

The last practice I was at, I cried. A lot. I know some of it was pent of emotions from the week but the thing that really triggered it and sent it over the edge was realizing that because of work, a job that is my dream job, I had missed out on assessment, so I was still in the lower level group. As we split into groups, I felt a part of me crack and tears started to flow. There were people over there who started at the same time or after I did and who had less skills than me when they started. I'd even be willing to bet money that some of them don't have some of the skills I have, yet I'm still stuck behind. In theory, you're not suppose to compare yourself to others but we all do. So I'm watching these skaters and wondering what it is that they're doing that I'm not doing.

I've learned that I need to get different boots because the ones I'm skating in are jam boots, which means less than zero ankle support. It means that when I'm skating and pushing on the boot by leaning into something, there's nothing to push against and I end up falling. This information was never given to me and I was never advised to look at a different boot. I'll take a lot of blame for that because I didn't do enough research. I did try on a bunch of boots and the one I skate in now fits my narrow and long feet. They just don't have any ankle support. That means that the boot will slip off of my foot if I'm doing toe stop runs and then transitioning into skating. I've started doing intense, and often painful, lacing to try to keep the boot on my foot. How do I know that this is the problem? A rep from the other derby store in town, the one I didn't buy the boot at (their shop was located next to a tattoo parlor and I nearly passed out from the faint sound of tattooing the one time I went; I'm a wimp and I'm okay with that) came to one of our practices and looked at people's equipment. One glance and my boot and he told me that he never would have sold me that boot especially now that other companies are coming out with narrower fitting boots.

I'm also feeling disappointed. I'd hoped, based on comments made early in the session, that there would be an intermediate group. That has never happened so I'm in the beginner group where I struggle to challenge myself. To be fair, there's only been one practice that I've been at where we split into groups like this but it was very hard on me. Everyone there was either truly a beginner or coming back from an injury. I don't fall into either of those categories, leaving me to feel like I don't really have a place in the league right now. I either need to skate my arse off this summer and pick up a lot of awesomeness (and new boots) or I need to take so much time off that my skills go back to beginner so I can re-learn things. I don't want to do the second one and the first one probably isn't realistic. So what do I do?

I don't know. And that's discouraging.