Ouch! My Pride!

The kids are asleep. The baby monitor is rests on a table in the garage. The husband is grilling.

I am in the driveway, skates and gear on, practicing the skills I'm learning.

Hubby hasn't seen me on skates since the first time I thought of joining derby, five years ago. Back then, I wobbled on legs that were not in cooperation with my feet. I had been terrified of falling, which was unfortunate because I couldn't stay up.

Now, however, I can roll forward without falling every time. Even more important than that I my confidence. I feel pretty good on my skates. My body is no longer rigid. I am not holding my breath. My face is not in a scowl. I am enjoying myself, and feel extremely proud.

Don't they always say that pride goes before the fall?

As I'm practicing knee drops, Hubby asks, "If you fall, should I help you up?"

"Nope," I say, "getting up is part of what learning."

It seems almost immediate after I say this that I suffer a catastrophic fall. I'm not sure how it happens. All I know is my back hit the ground as my right leg goes in a completely different direction from the rest of me.

Think James Brown, and those splits.

As I land, a shocking jolt screams through my hip. Once I'm down, however, I feel okay. I start to get up. I try to swing my leg around in front of me and bend my knee.

Obviously, someone is stabbing me in the hip. That I the only explanation for this agony. I cant even get my leg into position to try to get up. I'm done slaying for the day. I remove my skates and try to get up again.

Sonofabitch! Ouch! Really?!?

The elves stabbing me in the hip are going to work with explosives now. I can't get up at all. I now must swallow my pride and ask Hubby for help. He helps me to my feet and picks up my skates for me. We head inside.

Nope. Not happening. I can't walk at all. My hip is full of barbed wire, and when I try to put weight on it, I feel like fainting. Hubby helps me into the house, where I plant my butt on the sofa the rest of the night.

Ouch, my pride. Thankfully, Hubby is saving his jokes for tomorrow.

Fresh Meat Anyone?

"Are you okay to try some skating?" This is the coach, Vera.

"Sure thing. That's why I'm here!" This is me, trying to sound braver than I feel.

I am at my first practice with my local roller derby league. I fell in love with roller derby six years ago at a Derby Dolls bout, and have spent all this time building my courage (and losing a few pounds.) Now at long last I find myself sitting on an unstable church pew in a big warehouse in a sketchy part of town. Before me the track is painted on the floor, and girls are starting to make their way onto it. I personally have just spent an unreasonable amount of time wrestling my way into all the protective gear and finally have strapped roller skates onto my feet. Even sitting, I feel awkward.

Here's the thing: I can't skate. I could when I was a kid, but not very well. I never even developed the control and maneuverability required to do the Hokey Pokey that was a staple at my local rink growing up. I have not worn skates since Jr. High. Hoping to improve my skating abilities, I have spent the past week trying to skate in my driveway, only to learn that age and weight are not friends of the roller skate. I can barely stay up.

Yet here I sit, butterflies in my stomach, telling this person that I'm ready to hit the track. I stand, wobble, and remain standing! All around me ladies glide effortlessly along the track, their skates making very impressive ripping noises as they come to sharp stops. That will be me someday. Now I inch my way to the track, already sweating, every muscle tense.

BAM!!!! I fall. Shit. There's a line of tape around the edge of the track. I tripped over it.

"We all do that. Don't worry about it.". I'm grateful to Vera for this kindness.

She explains to me about falling forward onto your kneepads whenever possible, about keeping your fingers off the floor, and about "Derby Stance."

Derby Stance: a special punishment brought forth from hell onto new skaters.

Now I start to skate. Vera skates backwards in front of me, her eyes sharp as she watches me. I'm doing it! This is so exhilarating! I'm skating! On a derby track! I'm slow and I'm shaky but I'm here and I'm doing it! I say something to Vera and she tells me how great it is I can look at her while skating. Yay!

Now we're on lap three and I fall again. I did not trip this time. This time, I fell because my legs are burning and trembling and they just collapse. Vera watches as I struggle back up onto my skates and go again. I fall again. I keep falling. Over and over I fall, and each time I get up it weakens my legs further. How long have we been doing this? Practice is two hours long. I keep thinking she will tell me that's enough-that we're done for the day. She doesn't, so I don't stop. I just keep pushing. My lungs burn as I gulp for air. My legs have passed pain and have simply given up. I can't feel my feet. I am certain I am going to vomit. Finally, after hours and hours, she calls a stop to the laps. Everyone gathers in the center of the track.

Thank god. It must be cool down time.

Vera skates to the center, "Now if we're all warmed up lets get some stretches and then we'll start drills."

Excuse me?

Okay don't panic. You're obviously spent. Surely they will just have you watch the rest of practice.

Nope.

I'm the only new girl tonight, so it's just Vera and me off to the side while the other ladies hit the track. Under her supervision, I practice falls. I had thought it would be difficult to make myself fall on purpose; it just seems unnatural. It turns out that's the easy part. It is getting up over and over again that quickly becomes excruciating. Imagine doing linges over and over, on skates. I skate back and forth, dropping to one knee, then to the other, then to both. Each time I pull myself back up onto my skates my thighs protest more loudly.

We finish falls and start practicing stops. I try the Plow Stop. I can't get it to work. I try the T-Stop, which works in the sense that every time I attempt it I fall, which then causes me to stop. Of course then I have to get up again = more agony.

Back and forth. Over and over. Intentional falls, failed stops and unintentional falls. I'm sure my insides are bleeding. There are no clocks in here. How long have we been doing this? It seems I have always been here. Finally Vera calls everyone to the center again. It's over. Technically, I survived. Everyone skates back to the pews to de-gear. I don't think i can make it that far. More than anything I just want to drop to the floor where I am where I am, remove my now impossibly heavy skates, and WALK to the pews. My pride will not allow it. Leaving my skates on, I do an awkward skating version of hobbling back to where my shoes are. Did I leave my water bottle behind? Too late now. I absolutely can't go back for it.

As I remove my soaked pads, trembling and spent, several of the girls stop by to offer encouragement and ask how I feel.

"You did great!"
"You fell a lot less than I did my first day."
"Will we see you next time?"

I breathlessly thank everyone as I finish packing up my stuff. I listen as they talk amongst themselves about this and that. Hauling my bag onto my shoulder, I wave goodbye to all. I can barely lift my legs to get into my car. I blast the air conditioner. It feels superb on my still overheated skin. I've never been so exhausted.

I can't wait for next practice.