I'm so glad I didn't skate yesterday. This is bad. This is so bad. Two days after the fall, I feel like I've been in a car wreck. My entire left side feels out of whack. My knee, elbow, hip, shoulder and ribs are crooked and sore and it hurts to breathe.
If I had skated yesterday, how much worse would I feel today?
We have a bout this weekend, at which I'll be selling shirts, and will be watching bout footage the following Wednesday. I will therefore be getting another full week to recover. I'd really like to get back on a treadmill I the mean time though.
www.hypersmash.com
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Roller Skating Injuries are Sexy
Unfortunately, my current injuries are not skating related.
Yesterday after putting gas in my car, I climbed back into the driver's seat. Before I could make it, however, my foot slipped out from under me. I fell backwards out of my car and onto the pavement. The entire left side of my body slammed down on the concrete curb that the gas pumps sit on. My head banged against the gas pump. By the time I got home, my elbow had swelled impressively and my hip had turned black. There is nothing, NOTHING sexy about gas station fall injuries.
So much for my triumphant return to skating.
Doctor's orders are no skating for a week. While getting X-Ray orders, I asked the doctor if I could "roller skate." I'm not ready to use the term "Roller Derby" with her. I think she's wise to it, though. She looked at me and asked of I can expect to fall a lot while skating. I said I'm pretty likely to fall. She said not to skate if there is a chance I could land on that elbow. I'm to give it a couple of weeks.
So here I am at practice, my first practice after quitting without telling anyone I was quitting, and I'm just hanging around watching. I feel silly. I can't skate because my elbow hurts? What a wussy noob. I wish I would've brought my skates so I could at least do a few laps.
On the other hand, I'm not sure that I could get my elbow pad on over my swollen elbow. I am sure that it would be excruciating if I tried. Plus, I'm playing this off like it is a bump on the elbow and not a big deal, but it was a bad fall and is kind of a big deal. So maybe this is okay. This weekend there will be no practice because of a bout on Saturday. This means I will get an entire week of rest but only miss one practice.
Meanwhile, ouch!
Yesterday after putting gas in my car, I climbed back into the driver's seat. Before I could make it, however, my foot slipped out from under me. I fell backwards out of my car and onto the pavement. The entire left side of my body slammed down on the concrete curb that the gas pumps sit on. My head banged against the gas pump. By the time I got home, my elbow had swelled impressively and my hip had turned black. There is nothing, NOTHING sexy about gas station fall injuries.
So much for my triumphant return to skating.
Doctor's orders are no skating for a week. While getting X-Ray orders, I asked the doctor if I could "roller skate." I'm not ready to use the term "Roller Derby" with her. I think she's wise to it, though. She looked at me and asked of I can expect to fall a lot while skating. I said I'm pretty likely to fall. She said not to skate if there is a chance I could land on that elbow. I'm to give it a couple of weeks.
So here I am at practice, my first practice after quitting without telling anyone I was quitting, and I'm just hanging around watching. I feel silly. I can't skate because my elbow hurts? What a wussy noob. I wish I would've brought my skates so I could at least do a few laps.
On the other hand, I'm not sure that I could get my elbow pad on over my swollen elbow. I am sure that it would be excruciating if I tried. Plus, I'm playing this off like it is a bump on the elbow and not a big deal, but it was a bad fall and is kind of a big deal. So maybe this is okay. This weekend there will be no practice because of a bout on Saturday. This means I will get an entire week of rest but only miss one practice.
Meanwhile, ouch!
Monday, July 16, 2012
I Can't Stay Away from Roller Derby
As ridiculous as it seems, through all the pain and sweat and disappointment, I cannot bear the thought of leaving Roller Derby. I simply can't do it.
The truth is, I do love it. I absolutely love it.
Why? Why, when I spend every practice near tears? Why, when I can't even get through a warm up without feeling like a failure? When I have no hope of playing in a bout for a very long time and wouldn't know what to do if I were to find myself in one? When I am the only struggling new girl, which is a lonely position in which to find yourself?
I can't explain it. Some of it is what I was thinking yesterday. Being involved with Roller Derby, I feel like I'm a part of something special. Roller Derby is special. If you will permit me to be utterly corny, I will say it is magical. For some of us, the first time you see Roller Derby, you KNOW you want to be a part of it. There is nothing else like it.
It's a tough sport but it doesn't try to be a boys' sport. It's a sport for tough, feminine women and the two attributes are not mutually exclusive. Skate bags are packed with instant ice packs, skate tools and duct tape as well as with makeup, tampons and body glitter. Girls can be tough without being boys.
Speaking of skate bags, I love Derby gear. I love the skates, wheels, bearings, toe stops, pads, helmets. I haven't bought new shoes in three years, but I've bought one set of skates, three sets of wheels, two sets of bearings, two mouth guards, three sets of kneepads and two sets of elbow pads in the past five months. I have a lovely new hockey style helmet that I am saving to wear as a reward once I pass minim skills. Seriously, not to sound all girly, but Roller Derby has the best accessories. That's before you even start talking about tights and glitter and eyelashes.
I am very reserved for a long time with new people, so I haven't yet formed the lasting sisterhood type friendships that Derby forges. I believe that will come. Meanwhile, I really love being a part of this group. I like being with girls who don't mind smelling bad after a good practice. I like being part of a group that appreciates the aesthetic value of a good, loud pair of socks. I love how everyone seems so confident and together but once you get to know them you realize they are often fragile as well. It is this sport and this togetherness that brings out their strength.
I absolutely love the sound generated by 20 pairs of wheels grinding to a simultaneous halt.
So I'm sucking up my pride and returning to the track on Wednesday. Maybe nobody noticed.
The truth is, I do love it. I absolutely love it.
Why? Why, when I spend every practice near tears? Why, when I can't even get through a warm up without feeling like a failure? When I have no hope of playing in a bout for a very long time and wouldn't know what to do if I were to find myself in one? When I am the only struggling new girl, which is a lonely position in which to find yourself?
I can't explain it. Some of it is what I was thinking yesterday. Being involved with Roller Derby, I feel like I'm a part of something special. Roller Derby is special. If you will permit me to be utterly corny, I will say it is magical. For some of us, the first time you see Roller Derby, you KNOW you want to be a part of it. There is nothing else like it.
It's a tough sport but it doesn't try to be a boys' sport. It's a sport for tough, feminine women and the two attributes are not mutually exclusive. Skate bags are packed with instant ice packs, skate tools and duct tape as well as with makeup, tampons and body glitter. Girls can be tough without being boys.
Speaking of skate bags, I love Derby gear. I love the skates, wheels, bearings, toe stops, pads, helmets. I haven't bought new shoes in three years, but I've bought one set of skates, three sets of wheels, two sets of bearings, two mouth guards, three sets of kneepads and two sets of elbow pads in the past five months. I have a lovely new hockey style helmet that I am saving to wear as a reward once I pass minim skills. Seriously, not to sound all girly, but Roller Derby has the best accessories. That's before you even start talking about tights and glitter and eyelashes.
I am very reserved for a long time with new people, so I haven't yet formed the lasting sisterhood type friendships that Derby forges. I believe that will come. Meanwhile, I really love being a part of this group. I like being with girls who don't mind smelling bad after a good practice. I like being part of a group that appreciates the aesthetic value of a good, loud pair of socks. I love how everyone seems so confident and together but once you get to know them you realize they are often fragile as well. It is this sport and this togetherness that brings out their strength.
I absolutely love the sound generated by 20 pairs of wheels grinding to a simultaneous halt.
So I'm sucking up my pride and returning to the track on Wednesday. Maybe nobody noticed.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
I Quit!
I haven't been honest with anybody lately.
Everyone asks if I'm having fun at practice. I always say I am. This is an all-out bald faced lie. I am miserable every second of every practice. It's two hours of physical and mental battering.
I used to miserable for part of practice, but not the entire thing. It is hard work, and my body does protest. I'm not going to pretend that skating through foot cramps, back pain, muscle aches, and trembling legs is a party. It was, however until recently, extremely rewarding. Every practice I could feel improvement. It was happening faster than I thought it would. I could skate faster for longer. I learned new skills. Every practice ended with me feeling spent, but empowered.
That has all changed. My endurance has taken a nose dive. I can skate fewer laps than I could a month ago. I can't make it through the warm up. I can't hold a plank, even sissy style. Forget about honing my skills to retake the test. I am farther from passing it than I have ever been.
Twice a week I drive to practice all excited. I am going to push through. I will keep skating no matter how tough it gets. I am building endurance. This is a good thing. Today will be awesome.
Then practice starts. Five laps into the warm up, my legs shakes and my back aches. I breath fire. I bail out of the warm up drill, unable to complete it. I try to keep skating around the outside of the track, but it is sometimes all I can do to stand still on my skates. I fight against my desire to sit down. It's not so much that my body hurts as it is that I can't make it move. The mean girl in my head starts in. "You're never going to be able to do this. You're never going to be able to do this." The girl in my head gets louder as practice continues, as I struggle and fight and still must sit occasionally. Every practice ends with the exercise of holding back my tears until I make it to the car.
Today I admit defeat.
The new girl practice starts out promising but quickly slides southward. It consists of me and the one other new girl. You know - the one that's been skating for like two weeks and is ready to pass skills. We have the second track all to ourselves today.
Our warm up is laps. We are told to take ten laps each direction. Awesome! I really want to get some plain old fashioned skating in. I also need to work on my crossovers. This is so much better than trying to run warm up drills with the big girls.
Except it's not.
I struggle early. After the first five laps I'm already hurting. I'm not getting the hang of crossovers. By the time we switch direction, I can barely see anything except the track in front of me. Skate. Skate. Skate. Skate. I fudge the last lap, since they're waiting on me anyway.
As practice continues, I slide into despair. Everything is a haze of exhaustion and pain. Why am I putting myself through this? I'm only causing myself pain and disappointment. What's making it worse is we are running the best new girl drills ever. We take turns pushing then pulling each other around the track. This kind of thing is super fun, but all I can think of is how sick I feel. And, of course, how I'm never going to be good enough.
Finally I get to the last straw. We are to do five laps while leaning on each other. This is an awesome exercise, and it can help my stability. There's no way, however, that I can do five laps. We set out, and the other new girl, bless her heart, is encouraging me and trying to help push me along. I can barely see. I hear myself say out loud, "I can't do this anymore. I can't do it.". I repeat it over and over. She tells me we can get through it; just keep going. My feet are lead. My lungs are fire. I'm miserable. I simply will never be able to do this. Why do I continue to come here and kill myself?
Harmony yells that we need to pick up the pace. At this, 'm done. I'm out. I'm finished with the heat and the pain, with struggling to conquer something I will never master. Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision further as I tell Harmony I'm going home and skate over to my bag. I pack my bag, openly weeping but trying not to burst into sobs. I sling my bag over my shoulder and head to the door.
I turn to take one final look back. Practice continues. Girls skate and stop, laugh and sweat. I hear their voices as they call out to each other, the rolling of wheels, the grinding of stopping, the clatter of pads hitting the floor.
This is the place where I was part of something special.
I get to my car and sob uncontrollably for a while. I am heartbroken. This place has been my place of misery, exhaustion, and defeat. I don't belong here. Why does the knowledge that I will never come back absolutely reduce me to shreds? I can't explain it. You'd think it would be a relief.
It's with a very heavy heart that I head home and end my time with Roller Derby.
Everyone asks if I'm having fun at practice. I always say I am. This is an all-out bald faced lie. I am miserable every second of every practice. It's two hours of physical and mental battering.
I used to miserable for part of practice, but not the entire thing. It is hard work, and my body does protest. I'm not going to pretend that skating through foot cramps, back pain, muscle aches, and trembling legs is a party. It was, however until recently, extremely rewarding. Every practice I could feel improvement. It was happening faster than I thought it would. I could skate faster for longer. I learned new skills. Every practice ended with me feeling spent, but empowered.
That has all changed. My endurance has taken a nose dive. I can skate fewer laps than I could a month ago. I can't make it through the warm up. I can't hold a plank, even sissy style. Forget about honing my skills to retake the test. I am farther from passing it than I have ever been.
Twice a week I drive to practice all excited. I am going to push through. I will keep skating no matter how tough it gets. I am building endurance. This is a good thing. Today will be awesome.
Then practice starts. Five laps into the warm up, my legs shakes and my back aches. I breath fire. I bail out of the warm up drill, unable to complete it. I try to keep skating around the outside of the track, but it is sometimes all I can do to stand still on my skates. I fight against my desire to sit down. It's not so much that my body hurts as it is that I can't make it move. The mean girl in my head starts in. "You're never going to be able to do this. You're never going to be able to do this." The girl in my head gets louder as practice continues, as I struggle and fight and still must sit occasionally. Every practice ends with the exercise of holding back my tears until I make it to the car.
Today I admit defeat.
The new girl practice starts out promising but quickly slides southward. It consists of me and the one other new girl. You know - the one that's been skating for like two weeks and is ready to pass skills. We have the second track all to ourselves today.
Our warm up is laps. We are told to take ten laps each direction. Awesome! I really want to get some plain old fashioned skating in. I also need to work on my crossovers. This is so much better than trying to run warm up drills with the big girls.
Except it's not.
I struggle early. After the first five laps I'm already hurting. I'm not getting the hang of crossovers. By the time we switch direction, I can barely see anything except the track in front of me. Skate. Skate. Skate. Skate. I fudge the last lap, since they're waiting on me anyway.
As practice continues, I slide into despair. Everything is a haze of exhaustion and pain. Why am I putting myself through this? I'm only causing myself pain and disappointment. What's making it worse is we are running the best new girl drills ever. We take turns pushing then pulling each other around the track. This kind of thing is super fun, but all I can think of is how sick I feel. And, of course, how I'm never going to be good enough.
Finally I get to the last straw. We are to do five laps while leaning on each other. This is an awesome exercise, and it can help my stability. There's no way, however, that I can do five laps. We set out, and the other new girl, bless her heart, is encouraging me and trying to help push me along. I can barely see. I hear myself say out loud, "I can't do this anymore. I can't do it.". I repeat it over and over. She tells me we can get through it; just keep going. My feet are lead. My lungs are fire. I'm miserable. I simply will never be able to do this. Why do I continue to come here and kill myself?
Harmony yells that we need to pick up the pace. At this, 'm done. I'm out. I'm finished with the heat and the pain, with struggling to conquer something I will never master. Tears sting my eyes, blurring my vision further as I tell Harmony I'm going home and skate over to my bag. I pack my bag, openly weeping but trying not to burst into sobs. I sling my bag over my shoulder and head to the door.
I turn to take one final look back. Practice continues. Girls skate and stop, laugh and sweat. I hear their voices as they call out to each other, the rolling of wheels, the grinding of stopping, the clatter of pads hitting the floor.
This is the place where I was part of something special.
I get to my car and sob uncontrollably for a while. I am heartbroken. This place has been my place of misery, exhaustion, and defeat. I don't belong here. Why does the knowledge that I will never come back absolutely reduce me to shreds? I can't explain it. You'd think it would be a relief.
It's with a very heavy heart that I head home and end my time with Roller Derby.
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