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.

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.