Back to Roller Derby Basics

I'm finally making it through to the other side of this streak of negativity and backsliding. I took it easy for a couple of weeks, with the help of my cracked tailbone. This allowed me to reconnect with the fun of skating Last practice I started back in with pushing myself, and found myself feeling great after.

This practice I feel almost like I did before everything went south for me.

When I first get on the track, I remind myself to take it slowly. By the time warm up officially begins, my feet are a bit crampy and my legs a bit shaky, but I'm not miserable and I feel confident in my skates.

Warm-up? It's push-pull. Everyone gets in one long line. We all grab either the hips or shirt of the person in front of us. Then the woman at the front of the line starts skating, pulling the rest of us for a lap before dropping to the back of the line while the next person pulls the group. I am second to last. I hold my position in line, hands on the hips of the girl in front of me. I keep derby stance, ignoring the foot cramps, holding on while being pulled all the way until my turn. I'm ready. I prepare myself for the effort of pulling the entire group as the girl in front of me finishes her lap. I let go of her. I'm ready. Let's pull this line! And we're off!

And I'm down!

I lurch forward, perhaps anticipating the strain a bit too much. The feeling of someone behind me holding my shirt is odd. I crash to the floor. Embarrassing. Hello. I'm obviously new here.

Everyone cheers me on as I hop back up and get in front again. I pull everyone for the full lap, but then can't continue skating to regain my place in line. I take a break. I guzzle water in between hot gasping breaths. I do not watch the track. I focus only on the bench on which I am leaning. I listen, though. I listen as the last girl pulls everyone, then they reform the line. The last girl is now first to PUSH everyone for a lap. If I were still in the drill it would be my turn next. You know what? I'm doing it. I skate alongside the track for a sec, and when the girl at the back of the line lets go, I hop in. I push te long line of girls around the track. Halfway around, I call out, "Okay, everyone sprint!"

Nobody laughs. Huh. I thought that was crazy funny. U finish the lap with no further jokes.

After pushing the lap, I officially cry uncle for the rest of warm up and skate laps around the outside of the track. I am super proud of myself for jumping in to do the push, but later I'm disappointed that I didn't finish out the laps in line with the other girls. Next time.

After stretches, they set out to do the drill that put me in tears last practice. My brain races. "oh no i can't do this again i don't want to do this it hurts and i'm no good at it please don't make me do this" At this moment I realize the most important thing ever.

THAT IS MY PROBLEM.

I have other issues, such as being overweight and out of shape and having weak muscles and poor balance. All of these things can be repaired. It may take a while but it will happen. None of these issues, however, are as damaging or as far reaching as this one mental block.

As a brand new skater, when faced with a new challenge or a difficult one I had failed before, I was hesitant but excited to be learning something new. Some things seemed scary, but everything looked fun. Now, when presented with a challenge, I fall into despair. I think how much I can't do this and I make myself miserable. That is the worst attitude possible. I am here to learn. I am here to challenge myself. Nobody here is going to get mad when I fall or can't keep up. I need to want to do the rings that are hard. I'm not sure when I lost that.

I refocus myself. Yes this drill is hard, and I cried my way through it last time. But I did it. Now is my chance to give it another shot- to own it. I can feel the attitude shift in my soul, and a weight is lifted off me. I emerge from a cloud of fear and discouragement, and it is good. I'm ready. Let's pair me up.

As I look for a pair, it is suggested to me by the girl running the drill that I would be better off doing new girl drills.

Suck it.

Actually, it's okay. I know they're preparing for an upcoming bout. The other new girl is also being shuffled off.

We spend the practice working on basics that I never mastered. We spend quite a bit of time up on our toe stops. My ankles ache and my toes fall asleep, but I gain quite a bit from the practice. I work on my transitions, attempting turnaround toe stops. We work on blocks and hits.

I feel good and I plan to make my change in attitude permanent.

Puke, Sweat and Tears - and Panties

Warm up is the usual nightmarish hell. I start by skating some laps on shaking legs, body tense, wobbling like newborn Bambi. After just a few minutes, my legs are screaming in agony and I'm taking multiple breaks "to stretch." Thoughts of quitting flutter once again into my brain. This time the thoughts are rather easily swatted away. I now recognize that it takes me while to get my skate legs, and I just need to power through it as best I can. It will get better after a bit. Of course by then I'm exhausted and sore, but it's better than this shaky feeling. At one point during the pre-warm up I realize I have forgotten my mouth guard. I skate over to retrieve it, smiling at the friend of a skater who has come to watch practice.

She smiles back at me sympathetically, "Are you just learning to skate?" Ouch. Humiliations galore. It's hard to shake that one off.

I continue laps on my own. When the official warm up begins, I join in. After a couple of laps I have to rest "to get a drink." I get back on the track a couple of laps later. The warm up continues like this, me breaking for a lap or two then joining in for a lap or two. I skate through the tension in my body, through the trembling in my legs, through the pain in my ankles, and through the humiliation of not being able to make it through a warm up. I never quit, and I feel better after the stretches.

Drills start. We do new kinds of stops. I break when I need to but jump back in when I can. Then they pair us up. I hate that. I hate it. I hate it. I feel trapped. They pair me with Christie, which is cool. We alternate. For one minute I am to push her while she keeps me slowed to a stop. Then we switch. Back and forth. Christie calls out words of encouragement and direction as I struggle and strain. By now I have my skate legs but everything else is falling apart. My hips and thighs burn. My feet cramp. I have sweat so much that there are no actual tears, but I am sobbing with pain and discouragement. I start to hate the girl who suggested this drill. Obviously she did this because she knew it would make me feel small and desperate. She wants me to quit. I hate her. I channel that anger into my pushing for a minute. Wow that was extremely effective. Christie noticed, too. After that big push, though, I am done. Weeping and fighting the urge to vomit, I apologize to Christie and bow out of the rest of the drill.

After a visit to the restroom to calm my stomach and after a break and some water, the next drill begins. We are to form two lines beside the track. We are to take turns taking the track in threes - two people to be "blockers" and one to be a "jammer." I get in the blocker line and notice the person who will be jamming against me is Karmen. She is awesome. Extremely intimidating. I don't think I can do this. I look up at the other track and realize that the other new girl is no longer over here - she's over there! She's working on her single foot glides. Escape is possible! I say, "Oh, I guess I should go over there and work on my glides.". D, who will be blocking with me says, " Or you could get out there with me and see how it goes."

Now what? I take a quick mental inventory. Why am I hesitant to do this? It's not the exhaustion or pain. I'm somewhat recovered and can continue. It's that I don't want to hold the other girls back. I always feel like a drain on the drills when I practice with the vets. But what else am I here for? I know I'll be mad at myself if I don't do this. I stay. Now I'm staying in the drill because I have chosen to - not because I feel trapped into it. That makes a difference.

When it's our turn, I hit the track next to D. The whistle sounds. We start. Karmen comes up behind us. She and D are both great. Karmen doesn't push too hard. She issues instructions. "Bend your knees more. Toes in. Slow me down. You're doing great, girl.". D keeps a touch on me. "Stay with me.". I keep accidentally slamming my wheels into hers, which trips us both. She assures me this is common in new girls. When our time is done, we get a round of applause. Awesome! Now I must visit the restroom again.

Once again the nausea subsides without incident. I go back to the track. I want to try the jamming. I still feel urpy. I hope I don't vomit on anyone.

As my turn arrives, they hand me the jammer panty! Wow. I've never worn this. Neat. I'm jamming against D and Karmen. I spend the lap pushing as hard as I can against each of them. It's hard to control my direction. Karmen keeps reminding me to not use my forearms. I'm going to have to try to figure out what to do with my arms. I feel like I should hold them behind my back, but I fear that will cause me to faceplant.

Once the fun of our turn is over my gorge starts to rise again. I must stop. My body will declare full mutiny. It was a blast and I was so glad I stuck around but it is time for me to move to the other track and do some slow laps for the rest of practice.

Roller Derby Practice Was Awesome!

Before I begin, I'd like to report that I do think the soft bushings were contributing to my recent endurance problems. The firmer bushings seem to help. This is great news!  I didn't just suddenly take a turn for the worse.  I overextended my ability to adjust to new equipment.  My feet cramp a bit more with the firmer bushings and I'm less maneuverable but I no longer feel like I'm going to die after two laps.  I guess my ankles just aren't up to the task right now.

Now, on to tonight's practice -- why is tonight so awesome?

It starts when I arrive and head to the restroom for my pre-practice pee. (With no air conditioning in a tiny bathroom wearing spandex, you'd better pee before you start sweating and you can't wriggle into/out of your clothes anymore.)  One of the girls is in there, at the sink. I turn to go wait my turn when she says, "oh, you can go on in. I was just trying to pop this zit."

I love these girls! They sweat and stink and have gross pads.  They drop their mouthguards on the floor and stick them in their helmets.  They are not afraid to get dirty, bruised and scabby.  They're real.

We do the warm-up.  It is the dreaded one where we sprint, then stop, then 'quick feet' back and forth.  This time we aren't doing it in lines of four, however, which helps me a lot because I can go a bit more at my own pace.  We start skating, and I'm going as fast as I can and I'm keeping up really well and am excited, then Val blows the whistle and yells, "Sprint!"  Oops.  I thought we were already sprinting.  Apparently the other girls were just skating at a regular pace.  At the whistle, everyone takes off.  I keep skating my version of a sprint as I get lapped.  At the next whistle, I stop and do the quick feet, which always causes cramps.  I ignore the cramps and keep going.  Another whistle, another sprint.  Another whistle, more quick feet.  I get through all of the stuff we're doing to the left.  Then we turn the opposite direction to repeat the drill to the right.  Skating to the right throws me completely off.  It's so odd. When we go that direction around the track, I'm back to feeling like I've never skated before.  This is probably why it's important to run some drills both directions.  In any case, at this point I'm so slow and awkward that I feel like I'm in everyone's way.  I stop to stretch and take a drink, then do laps on the outside of the track.  When they get to the quick feet part, I hop back on the track to join in.  I then skate around the outside of the track again.  In this way, I manage to technically make it all the way through warm up without collapsing or quitting.

The best part is after warm up.  We come to the center to stretch, and Val suggests we introduce ourselves because there are a few new faces.  At this point, I have selected a derby name and told it to my team, but I don't use it because I'm not a skills-passed-ed member of the team.  I'm not 'official.'  When my turn for introductions comes, I introduce myself as Ramona.  Val looks at me and says, "No, you have a name."  Marnie says, "We don't know Ramona."  For the first time, I introduce myself using my skater name.  Kaos. I feel a bit weepy about this.

To top it off, there is a special guest this evening.  In the interest of keeping this blog semi-anonymous, I won't say who she is or where she is from.  I will say that she is a member of an extremely elite derby league.  I will also say that she has been an amazing source of help and support to me.  I emailed their league a while back with questions about derby tracks.  She responded.  Since then, I've come to her for advice and skating tips, and also for support during these recent dark days.  She has been amazing, and I'm so pleased to see her here.  (Her family lives in our area so she was in for a visit.)  When I realize she is here, I decide I have to introduce myself.  Before I can do that, however, she comes up to me!  She recognizes my name and knows who I am and wants to meet me.  It it great to get to speak with her in person.

The rest of practice goes well.  Honestly, I'm quite lazy.  I chat with one girl about her classes.  I spend some time with two girls looking at the x-ray pictures of the pins in their broken ankles.  I do, however, work on my weaving, which is not suffering quite so much from the harder bushings as I thought it would.  I work on plow stops, at which I am still heinous and really need to put some time in to improve them.  I work some on booty blocking (yay) during which I almost had a tragedy.  Trying to block another girl, I slip and fall -- on my butt.  It's okay though.  I fell on my side, not my tailbone.  The girl I was blocking said, "Oh, shit.  Did you pick a cheek?  Is your tailbone ok?"  I tell her yes I sacrificed my left buttcheek and am fine.  That kind of puts a damper on booty blocking for the rest of the day, though.

Next practice I will not be lazy.  I've taken enough time to myself to rediscover the fun in practice.  I've taken enough time to let my tailbone heal.  It will kill me tonight and tomorrow but I'll live.  The summer heat has broken, so I do not have to worry so much about vomiting.  It's time to go back to the old mantra:  "Your legs don't hurt that bad.  You CAN breathe.  Keep going."

Could It Be My Roller Skate Cushions?

I'm remembering that my increased difficulty with endurance began a week before my skills test when I changed out my bushings (cushions) for softer ones. I wanted to increase maneuverability. You think I'd have gotten used to it by now, but maybe going back to firmer bushings will help?

I'm going to try it.

The Ecstasy and then the Agony of DeButt

The other day, I remembered something: I Fucking Love Skating!

For this reason today I get up in the morning to skate outside.

Don't laugh: I make it ALL THE WAY AROUND MY BLOCK! This is about 3/4 of a mile, right around 12-13 laps I believe.

For outdoor skating, this is a ginormous victory for me. Outdoor skating is scary and hard. Outdoors has cracks and rocks that can land you on your face. Outdoors has up hills and downhills and dips. Outdoors has an unpleasant thu-thu-thu-thu feeling as you roll. My outdoor wheels, soft to absorb said cracks and rocks, require extra effort and pushing to keep rolling. My previous outdoor skating endeavors lasted about five minutes each. Today is about a 400% improvement.

When I set out, I tell myself that I will head out as if I'm going around the block. I will get at least around the corner. I will go until I cannot. I will not worry about going too far and not being able to get back. At any time, if I fall or get too tired or sore, I can take my skates off and walk back.

I get around the corner, and am still going. There is a downhill stretch ahead of me. Now, downhill on skates isn't like downhill on a bike. You have to keep your knees bent in an isometric exercise. You have to steer around obstacles. If you're me, you have to panic about the possibility of going too fast and not being able to stop.  It aches, and it often makes my toes numb.

I decide to go ahead and take the downhill until it levels out - about halfway down the block. Then I can stop if I need to.

I get to the level portion, shins and thighs burning. I think I can take the next downhill that will take me to the end of the block. Then I can stop.

I reach the bottom. You know what? I can go ahead and skate the short side of the block. When I turn the corner there will be an uphill. I can stop there.

I reach the hill. I'm aching and wobbly, but I can at least start up the hill. I can stop if it's too hard.

Uphill is hard. It hurts my butt, not just the injury but the muscles as well. I am managing it, though. It's not as scary as I thought it would be. I can make it past the pond. Then I can stop.

I'm past the pond. I can keep going. I'll go past the playground.

Once I'm past the playground, I stumble and decide to land and take a minute. I rest on my knees and survey the path ahead. It might be time to stop. It's uphill the entire way back to my house. I'm falling from weak legs. I'm tense all over from worrying about tripping on a pebble. You know what, though? I can go one more house.

I make it the rest of the way up the street one mailbox at a time. At each house I think, I'll stop after the next one. Okay.  I can stop after the NEXT one.  Finally I reach my neighbor's house. I think it is time to stop. I'm really struggling.

How can I stop so close to the end? Hubby will give me a hard time, and rightfully so. I can make it. I can do it. I skate the final few feet to my house and down my driveway.

That. Was. Awesome. Woooohoooo!  I need to do this EVERY MORNING.

Later in the day I lay curled up on my side on the sofa, crying.  The pain from my injured tailbone is excruciating.  It's so much worse than it has been so far.  I don't know if I damaged my tailbone more, or if the increased activity stimulated the nerves.  I won't be skating tomorrow morning.

Pep Talks and Tailbones

Today I quit again.

Before I even leave for practice, I'm feeling crummy. I've been feeling melancholy overall, and it affects my feelings about Derby. My kids don't feel well. My husband doesn't feel well.  They don't want me to go. I don't want to leave them. Why am I leaving them? I'm not going to work or to the grocery store or even to the hairdresser. I'm leaving my kids and husband at home so I can go roller skate. Poorly. I weep from guilt as I pull my car out of the driveway.

Practice starts as it always does. I get my gear on and start skating. Before my skates hit the track I already feel stressed, worrying about what this practice will bring. I know the other new girl is advanced enough that she practices with the rest of the team. This means one of two things will happen to me. I might be thrown in to the regular practice with her and the vets. I might be paired up with her to run 'new girl' drills that are way above my skillset. I don't know which will be worse. Either way I'm looking at two hours of physical and mental misery as I try to keep up, a task I'm doomed to fail.  Warm up starts and the first drill is one where we get into groups of four, sprint, stop, do quick feet back and forth, and sprint again. I hate that drill. I can't do it. I don't want to be here. I'm going home.

I pack up my gear. Thankfully, I think nobody notices.

Crap. I left my ice cup full of bandanas over by the track. If I go back for it, someone might see me, and it's obvious I'm leaving because I'm already off skates.  I can't leave it behind.  I run over to get it, run back to my gear, grab it and head toward the door. Now they saw me.

My plans to leave quietly slip down the drain. Vera, the coach, has seen me and rushes to stop me on my way out the door.

She asks why I'm leaving. For a moment my mind races to find a lie. I open my mouth to say there's an emergency at home. Instead, I blurt out the truth. I'm frustrated and I suck at this and I'm exhausted. I want to take a couple of months off.

She tells me not to do that. She reminds me of how far I've come. She tells me not to fool myself. I won't spend the next months exercising and skating. I will lose all the progress I have made, and may never come back. It is not so much what she says that matters as it is the fact that she is saying it. I'm surprised at the effort she is putting in to keep me.  I want to be clear - Val has never been anything but nice and encouraging toward me. She is, however, one of the people I feel has to be rolling her eyes mentally as she watches me struggle every practice. I really did expect her to give me an, "If that's what you think is best. . . Hope to see you back here soon." She doesn't do that though. She works hard to get me to stay. I stay. I suit back up.  It's crazy embarrassing to come back to the track but I do it.

I take it easy through practice. My pride has been stripped. I no longer care if people think I'm slacking off. I know how far I can push myself and I need this to be fun again. I join in some drills and spend some time just doing laps. Truth be told, I take it a little too easy. I could push harder. I need this, though. I need to enjoy it.  As I skate, I remember something I'd forgotten. It's fun. It's fun to skate and it's fun to try to learn something new. It's fun to watch your friends learn something new. When I'm not struggling and fighting and crying just to keep going or to try and keep up, I have physical room to enjoy myself. I have emotional room to enjoy others' endeavors instead of just thinking how I'll never be able to do that. For the first time in a long time (not counting the banked track practice) I'm having a blast. I missed this.

With a half an hour left of practice, my enjoyment literally crashes to a halt. We are practicing stops that you do when skating backward. This is fun, and I appear to be getting the hang of some of it. The challenge for me is that skating backwards stresses muscles that are not used to being stressed. I very quickly feel the effects. The other girls are skating forward, then transitioning to backwards and then doing the stop. This looks to be quite a bit gentler on the glutes. It looks like a great idea! I am embarrassed to admit, however, that I can still not transition. I think the problem is not physical, but mentally I cannot commit to the move. I continue the drill as I have been, skating backwards from a full stop every time, forcing my legs into unfamiliar work.  When my legs start complaining loudly from the backwards skating, I take a break to watch the other girls. When everyone else takes a break, I take to the track.

I am going to learn transitions. I am absolutely going to learn it.  I have the whole track to myself as everyone else gets some water and stretches a bit.  I do a couple of slow ones, then decide to try one at a regular skating pace. I know I can do this. I just need to do it. I take a couple of laps. It's time to turn. Toward the inside. Pick up my inside foot. Put it down facing the other way as I transition my weight and Wait Crap No What am I doing? As my feet start doing their thing, my head interrupts. I trip gloriously.  I land smack on my ass. This isn't my usual ass landing, which hurts my pride more than it hurts my tush. I do have quite a bit of padding on that area so I can take a hard hit to the butt. This is not that. This is a solid smack directly to my tailbone.

The pain is horrifying. I see stars and the wind is knocked out of me. I don't think anyone really saw, so my remaining shred of pride is intact. After catching my breath, I pull myself up (thank goodness I can get up) and go to sit gingerly, carefully on the bench for a while.

Mandy skates over to me and very gently and carefully suggests to me that if I don't have the stamina to participate in the drill that maybe I can skate some laps. Two things are obvious here. One is that she didn't see the fall and thinks I'm just lounging on the bench. The other is that she is trying very hard to squelch the no-nonsense, slightly aggressive tone she normally uses with skaters. She's walking on eggshells with me. It would be easier on me if she would just be blunt. Then I could respond with the appropriate amount of self righteousness. As it is, I smile and say something like, "Oh, yes I'll hop back out there. I just got the wind knocked out of me and it's taking me a second to catch my breath." Wuss.

After a few minutes I get up. Standing hurts less than sitting. I skate slowly around the outside of the track. I absolutely can not afford to fall on my butt again. I keep my knees bent appropriately, leaning slightly forward in proper stance. I take it slowly, concentrating on keeping my stride even so I don't fall.

Vera comments in how well I'm skating. "How can you say you're not improving? Look at that stride! It's much better than when we scored your skills test."  My heart is happy; my butt still aches.

Sitting on the bench and removing my skates after practice is not kind to my sore behind. I'm distracted somewhat by all the girls coming up to tell me how they've had times they wanted to quit too. I appreciate this greatly.  It does make me feel better.  On the other hand, I'm now "that girl."  I'm the whiny new girl who can't hang and needs all this extra encouragement.  I'm high maintenance.  How embarrassing.

By the time I hit the hay, my butt hurts so I can barely move.  It had better heal soon.  I have practice on Sunday and I'm really looking forward to it!

Banked Track Roller Derby Practice

Today some of us are traveling five hours to a city that has a banked track team. We are going to practice skating on their track. This is the first time I have skated with the group since my near-quit last week, and my second time ever on a banked track. I'm nervous, but super stoked.

After an extremely long drive and se time spent lost, I meet the other girls at the warehouse. The place has no air, no power, and no bathrooms. Their banked track barely fits inside the room. It is beautiful. Stunning.

It is me and three other girls from my league. As we are getting our gear together, a handful of girls from a neighboring league arrive. We are all signing waivers and putting on our skates and pads when I hear Kathump-thump. Kathump-thump. I look up and see Val hurtling around the bank. While we were piddling around, she had suited up and bolted to the track. Angie was not far behind. Val and Angie used to skate banked track and they miss it terribly. They are positively gleeful a they shoot around the track. Throughout the day I watch them giggle and play like kids in a playground.

I finish putting on all my gear. My swollen elbow aches under the elbow pad, but that's okay. It feels great to have my skates on again. I find the low point and climb very awkwardly onto the track. Okay. Here I am, up at the top. I drop to my knees and slide to the bottom. Okay. Here I am, down at the bottom. Hmmmm.

Val skates up and reminds me how to get started. I set one skate on the track, leaving the other on the floor, and skate. After I'm going along at a reasonable clip, I am to pick my lower foot up and put it in the track.

Bam! I hit the floor.

It's not that the maneuver is difficult. In fact, it's so not difficult that it is called the 'easy on.' It's just that it is very difficult to convince your foot that it is perfectly safe and natural to leave a stable flat surface, raise up, and land on a bouncy inclined surface while rolling forward. You roll along, one foot up and the other down. All is good, and just as you are about to transition up fully onto the track something in your head yells,"Wait, wait! I'm not ready!" This causes sort of a physical stutter followed by a crash. At least the track is soft and bouncy. All that gets hurt in the fall is my pride.

I have better luck my second try. I get both skates on the track. Now the challenge is getting up to the top of the track instead of rolling right back off the bottom again. I keep practicing. Over the next couple of hours I do a lot of falling, a lot of resting, and some skating, too.

I still have quite a few challenges. I have a difficult time skating up the track. I'm not sure how that is supposed to work - if I'm supposed to quick feet up, or cut that direction. I wind up pushing really hard with my lower foot, which is taxing on my inside leg. This is only fair, however, as my outside hip is taking a beating from pulling myself up onto the track. Another challenge is my fear of the bottom rail. I know you can skate right over it on and off the track, but whenever I approach it I drop to my knees in fear of tripping and planting my face. My most troubling challenge is that when I'm on the bank, my feet feel like they want to slip sideways inside my skates. I don't know if I need to stiffen my ankles, tighten my laces, or just get used to the feeling. All I know is that when I pick my foot up and put it back down, all my weight lands on the side of my foot. I roll my ankle more than a couple of times, which is never good.

By the time I'm ready to go, I can skate twice around the track before losing it. I can start at the bottom and make it ALMOST up to the top of the track but not quite. I can skate off the bottom of the track without freaking out and making myself fall. When it comes time to take pictures, I'm able to stand at the top of the track without clinging to the top rail for dear life. All in all it is a successful day.

I do manage, not once but twice, to smash my sore elbow on the bottom rail. Even through the pad, the pain is enough to make me see stars for a second. How do I always find that bottom rail when I fall? It's the only part of the banked track that is hard.

It's been a fun day, but I must leave. The other girls are staying the night and skating tomorrow. I'm envious of them. I'm not just jealous that they will skate tomorrow. I envy their camaraderie. The three of them drove up in the same car. They will no doubt go out tonight and will drive back tomorrow. I would have loved to have that time to get to know some of the other girls. I'd love to build that kind of deep friendship for which derby is known, to get goofy and crazy with like minded girls. It's my nature to be reserved with people for a while after meeting them. Any time I join a new group, it is common for me to feel more like a spectator than like a member until I start to feel comfortable. Now I'm tired of feeling like that with my Derby team. Had I road tripped with the girls, would that have gotten me over that hump? Would I have been able to push through my shyness and actually feel like I belong? Possibly. That is all moot, though. I already miss my kids something fierce. Had I stayed the night away from home, I would just have been miserable with missing them and with guilt for leaving them for so long. So today I leave early enough to pick the kids up tonight. I will later look at the girls' Facebook status updates with a certain amount of longing. That's okay, though, because tonight I'll squeeze my boys and tuck them into bed.

Today my goals were to go more than once around the track, to be able to stand on it without rolling off, and to be able to skate off the track. Next time I'm on the bank, my goal is to master it. That will mean being able to maneuver up and down the track, to skate indefinitely on it at a good speed, to be able to atop, start, fall, and get up, and to be able to take and five some hits. I'm looking forward to it!