I Am a Roller Derby God!!!

Today is the same drill as last practice. We take the track two at a time, the person in front hitting with her hips. This is perfect, because my hitting needs a LOT of work.

I jump in the drill without waiting for an invitation, taking hits very well and giving hits not so well. But I'm trying. This time, I hear the buzz about me first hand. As I'm going around the track, I hear the coach say to someone else, "Ramona is just so solid. It's like hitting a brick wall."

My heart skips a beat. Tears of pride prickle my eyes. Such a small comment but it means the world to me.

Throughout practice, I hear more people talk about my solidity. I get knocked down, but apparently not as much as one would expect. Then I find myself paired up with Haley. I consider her to be a good friend. I suspect, however, that she feels we coddle the new girls too much. (I tend to agree, actually.) Haley PUMMELS me. I assume she is holding back some, but not nearly as much as the others. She doesn't bump, retreat, let me recover, and then bump again. She slams into me and keeps pushing, shoving me towards out of bounds, pushing, pushing, pushing me. I struggle to push back against her, to stay in bounds, to stay on my skates. When I do fall or go out of bounds, there is no recovery time. Before I even see where she is coming from, she is there. Her rock hard shoulder digs into my side with a constant force. She slices her skates in front of mine to hold me back. I focus on the line around the edge of the track. I dig my skates in, lower my body, desperate to stay in bounds. My ankles scream. My bad hip seems to have given up and gone numb. Again and again I lose the fight, tripping out of bounds or getting thrown to the ground. I keep getting up. She keeps coming. I'm spent, but I honestly believe that if I do not fight with all I have left to stay up that I will die. She will knock me over with enough force to kill me.

Okay so maybe I'm not a god.

Towards the end of my second lap, the end of this delicious torture in sight, I hear it again. I'm pulling myself up off the floor for the 125th time. My skates hit the floor and I take off again. Haley heads for me. I steel myself. From the center of the track I hear, "When Ramona passes her test, I want her on my team!"

Yess!

I only get knocked down about twelve more times on the last quarter of the track.

Next we do something called Continuous Jammer. Everyone gets on the track at once. One person wears the jammer panty for two laps, then passes it to the next person. Everyone skates the entire time. I know I won't be able to keep up for long, but I jump in to try. I stay at the back of the pack. I don't try to block the jammer or do anything fancy. I'm just trying to keep up.

I'm doing it!

Jammer after jammer takes the pantry, and I am still skating. It gets toward the end of the drill, I realize that I'm going to be able to make it through the whole thing. Victory! I skated through a whole drill!

Then the unthinkable happens. I hear the call, "Who hasn't jammed yet?". Then I hear the reply, "Ramona hasn't!"

Beg your pardon?

I don't want to be seen hanging back, so I proclaim my terror but grab the panty. I spend a lap and a half trying to push and shove my way through the pack, bolstered by the yells of encouragement from my teammates. Everyone is telling me when to push, when to relocate, and how to find the hole. The term 'wall' takes on new meaning i don't see the individual girls in front of and beside me. They blur into a solid mass of spandex and tank tops. Hands behind my back, I throw my body this way and that, slipping on sweat and locking wheels. Panting through flames, I am determined to make it through my two laps. Coming close to the end of my second lap, however, the world is swimming and I know I am going to puke. Tossing the panty to the nearest girl, I shoot off to the bathroom followed by the sound of applause.

I don't vomit. I hitch a couple of times but reign it in. Good thing, too. I had frito chili pie for lunch, which in retrospect wasn't the best choice. I wash my face and emerge from the restroom, planning to watch some scrimmaging. Perhaps once I've had a rest, I'll skate 25 laps and see how long it takes me.

There is no scrimmaging, though. Everyone's taking their gear off. Practice is over. I had thought Continuous Jammer had taken 20 minutes. It turns out in actuality I had been skating for over an hour solid. Seriously. I can't believe it.

The girls cheer me again. Everyone congratulates me, and they all seem genuinely excited for me. I don't feel like I'm being pitied. I feel like it won't be long before I can hold my own. I really feel like part of the team.

There's No Loneliness in Roller Derby

Today at practice I put my new (if slightly forced) attitude to work.

First I must swallow my panic as I realize the other new girl is not skating. Will they pull someone out of practice just to work with me? Do I want them to do that? I'll feel guilty if someone has to miss out on drills to work with me, and frankly I don't know what I'd work on. Does this mean I have to run drills with the other girls? What if I can't do it? What if I cry again, or puke? I don't think i can do it. Suddenly I realize I haven't even started anything yet and I'm already frustrated to the point of tears. Time for an attitude change.

Mental slap.  Ramona, what have we been discussing with ourselves?  I am here TO DO things I cannot do.  This is exciting.  i look forward to seeing how well I can hang in there.

The drill we are working on today is about a certain kind of block.  For those of you in the know, I can say it's kind of like a J-hook with your hips instead of with your shoulder.  When someone approaches you from behind, you get down real low, and then pop up as you hip check her.  It's kind of awkward.  To practice the technique, we are to take turns getting on the track two at a time.  One girl comes up behind, and the other girl tries to use this block.  Each pair goes for a lap, and then the next pair goes.

Can I attempt this?  It's not sprinting or endurance.  It is, however, a full contact drill.  Intimidating.  What if I wind up in the rotation with someone who doesn't play nice with the new girl?  I really have been wanting to work on taking and giving hits, though.  I failed that part of my skills test.  At home, I daydream about getting in there and doing some hits.  Am I going to chicken out now that the opportunity has arisen?  No way.  I'm going for it.

What if they don't think it's a good idea for me to do this drill?  Who cares?  I'm going for it.  Instead of hanging back and waiting for someone to either invite me to the drill or suggest it may be too much for me, I jump into the middle of the track.  If they feel strongly that I shouldn't do this, let them come to me.

I do admit, however, to starting at the end of the line.  I don't jump right to the front.  I'm not crazy.

As I watch the girls ahead of it perform the drill, I realize something I had forgotten.  They are all here to learn new things.  Even though they are all much more skilled than I am overall, this specific maneuver is new to almost everyone.  I watch as they help each other, fall, laugh, cuss.  I hear girls who have been skating for years say things like, "Wait, I don't get it.  Was that right?  Can I try that again?"  I see the other newer girls asking for help from the person they're paired with.

I am not alone. I do not battle the gods of heat and endurance wrapped in my own personal blanket of misery. I am part of a team. My teammates are struggling and fighting and sweating with me. We are at different levels, but we all strive to improve.

I have so much fun skating this drill! I get knocked over some but not always. The girls I skate with talk me through it the whole way. At one point I skate against the coach. She comes in for a hit, and falls! Obviously nobody's coming at me full force, and she's going easy on me. Still, she wouldn't have fallen if I hadn't been steadier than she expected.

Later in line, Marnie says to me, "I heard a compliment about you. I overheard coach saying how solid you are."

I am elated. The pain in my legs and feet diminishes as I am now lighter than air. Solid? Hell yes! Awesome.

Scrimmaging starts and I cannot join in so I spend some time watching and some time walking on my toe stops. I wish I could do laps, but Wednesday is the day that the other track is unavailable. I am itching to try to do 25 laps. Toe stop work is good too, though.

What would have otherwise been an excellent practice is marred by a huge pile up in the scrimmage. Three girls get hurt pretty badly. Scary. I think of injuries as happening in bouts, but the thought of injuries during practice scares me a lot. For now I concentrate on well wishes for the hurt girls and the glory of coach saying I'm solid. I feel so close to everyone today. I love it here.

Roller Derby Uniforms!

I got my first Roller Derby jersey today. Squeeee!

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.