confessions of a skate-a-holic
These skates are the bomb. Pricey and fast. Real derby skates. But as much as I love them and wanted them and am thrilled to have them... I don't feel that I deserve them. It's not the cost that's got me, it's the fact that I suck.
I don't know if I posted anything about it, but I've had my heart set on joining the local roller derby team ever since I discovered we had one. As a child, rollerskating was my "thing". I won awards and participated in shows and lived in my skates. I wanted to be a rollerskating waitress when I grew up, in a cute pink outfit like the ones in the movies and tv shows we watched. So, naturally, I figured that I should still have that in me, that it's like riding a bicycle -- you don't forget how to do it, and it would come back to me with ease. Yeah, right.
I missed derby tryouts in August, but there's no way I was ready anyhow. I've hardly gotten any skating time in, and then only at crowded rinks in rental skates for a few hours at a time. They just started a drop-in derby practise, during the derby off-season, and anyone who wants to can show up for drills and scrimmage. The first hour and a half is basic skills -- form, falling, crossovers, slalom, etc. The remainder of the time is for scrimmage. They watch us during drills to determine if we're ready to scrimmage. That is, if we can skate well enough not to endanger ourselves or our fellow skaters. You get a little red devil sticker for your helmet once you're okayed to play. There are only a small handful of us who haven't made it yet, myself included.
Now, I'm not the worst skater, but I'm definitely in the bottom fourth. I can only think of one other girl who's been attending DID regularly and hasn't scrimmaged. I'm trying my damndest, but there are things that I'm finding nigh impossible to accomplish. I'm having a hard time keeping up with the pack during drills, partly because I'm chickenshit so I skate slower than I am probably able to, and partly because I've been using old and useless rental skates. Rental skates, compared to those like my new ones, are Thomas Kincaid to Frida Khalo -- it'll pass [as art] in uneducated circles, but it's nowhere near the real thing. It doesn't help that a large percentage of the girls coming to DID are actually on teams and know what they're doing. Pros, if you will.
I take a lot of breaks, including a snack halfway through (thank you, hypoglycemia). I can only make a few laps before I have to rest, and it's not that I'm out of breath or anything, my legs just stop working. I turn to jello. There's a drill where we fall (intentionally) and then have to recover as quickly as possible (that is, get up from the fall and keep skating). Recovery is one of the most important skills, as you need to get your ass out of the way if you're on the track, lest you cause a pile-up or get hurt yourself. And I simply haven't been able to get myself up. I've been blaming this on the rental skates, with their worn-down toe stops and lack of flexibility, but a good part of it is actually my weak-ass ankles and arthritic knees. I've been doing PT exercises in an attempt to strengthen both, but there's only so much I can do. I can't correct genetics.
Last week, during first drill -- called a "pull through", where we skate in a line and the last person weaves through the rest of the line, moving forward, and assisted by the girls in line who grab your hand and help pull you through -- I was the last girl to weave. There were derby girls behind and in front of me, all being as helpful and positive as possible, cheering me on when I lagged several feet behind the line, giving me pointers. I'd managed to make it through five or so girls in the line when I fell. Why? Because I fall. God only knows why. And I don't fall gracefully, or properly. I'm like Bambi in the scene where Thumper takes him onto the ice. I'm sitting there, legs splayed in a ridiculously unnatural way, and I just. can't. get. up. The girls keep flying by, throwing out an occasional word of concern. I manage to pull myself into a more ladylike/proper fall position, get up get up get up, to no avail. I'm hugging the wall, trying to stay out of the way. Wicked Sister (who was leading practise), skates over to me, after what felt like an eternity, asks if I'm all right, and tells me that I need to move to the center of the rink because they're starting freeskate (during which you skate as fast as you possibly can, and faster skaters are to stay to the outside of the track, where I was dejectedly sitting). I tell her I'm fine, and of course, I understand, I'll be out of the way promptly. In reality, I'm trying not to cry. Every muscle in my body is trembling, I've wrenched my knee something fierce, and every attempt at uprighting myself resulted in slightly less pretzeled legs, but no more. In reality, I desperately wanted to ask her for a hand up. In reality, I practically have to climb the carpeted wall to get back on my feet. Instead of skating center, I skim the edge of the rink and go sit down in "limbo" (where, during regular public skating hours, the parents and other non-skaters can hang out and watch those on the rink). My hands are shaking uncontrollably. I manage to make it down to the lobby, where Rockett (the owner of the rink, Denver Roller Doll, and founder of DID) is lacing up her own skates for practise. I tell her that I'd hurt myself during the previous week (lie), shouldn't have come to practise (probably true), and am going to leave. I ask that she please let Wicked know I've gone, because I have no balance (true, at this point) and fell during drill, and I don't want her to think it was because of said fall (lie lie lie).
I was humiliated.
I can talk the talk, but cannot skate the skate.
Rockett tells me not to worry, that she's "seen it all" and everyone progresses in their own time, that she can name lots of derby girls who started out not even being able to stay up on their skates for longer than 30 seconds. I don't know if she's telling the truth, but I appreciate the pep talk all the same. Even if it doesn't help. She also supposedly passed my contact info on to one of the DRD who has been giving private lessons. I haven't heard from her yet, but I hope that she has time for me. Lord knows I need the help.
Off-season tryouts are end of January. There probably won't be another until late summer. January is, apparently, the least competitive tryout, and they take on pretty much all of the girls who are remotely capable. I desperately want to do it... but, at this point, I'd rather not risk further embarrassment. I need to drastically improve over the next few weeks.
We have bare cement floors in the basement, so I can at least, theoretically, practise my crossovers and getting up from falls. And if I can get private lessons soon... But the larger part of me is hurt and terrified and disappointed -- what if, physically, I just can't do this? What if my ankles and knees are just too damned effed up to bear the necessary rigors of derby? I'm not giving up... not yet... but I feel like a small, scolded child every time I enter the rink. I haven't got any "friends" there, except for one girl who hasn't come in weeks, and feel (probably wrongly) like everyone's staring at me and judging me and rolling their eyes. I don't want to be the spaz that everyone dreads on the floor...
I don't know if I posted anything about it, but I've had my heart set on joining the local roller derby team ever since I discovered we had one. As a child, rollerskating was my "thing". I won awards and participated in shows and lived in my skates. I wanted to be a rollerskating waitress when I grew up, in a cute pink outfit like the ones in the movies and tv shows we watched. So, naturally, I figured that I should still have that in me, that it's like riding a bicycle -- you don't forget how to do it, and it would come back to me with ease. Yeah, right.
I missed derby tryouts in August, but there's no way I was ready anyhow. I've hardly gotten any skating time in, and then only at crowded rinks in rental skates for a few hours at a time. They just started a drop-in derby practise, during the derby off-season, and anyone who wants to can show up for drills and scrimmage. The first hour and a half is basic skills -- form, falling, crossovers, slalom, etc. The remainder of the time is for scrimmage. They watch us during drills to determine if we're ready to scrimmage. That is, if we can skate well enough not to endanger ourselves or our fellow skaters. You get a little red devil sticker for your helmet once you're okayed to play. There are only a small handful of us who haven't made it yet, myself included.
Now, I'm not the worst skater, but I'm definitely in the bottom fourth. I can only think of one other girl who's been attending DID regularly and hasn't scrimmaged. I'm trying my damndest, but there are things that I'm finding nigh impossible to accomplish. I'm having a hard time keeping up with the pack during drills, partly because I'm chickenshit so I skate slower than I am probably able to, and partly because I've been using old and useless rental skates. Rental skates, compared to those like my new ones, are Thomas Kincaid to Frida Khalo -- it'll pass [as art] in uneducated circles, but it's nowhere near the real thing. It doesn't help that a large percentage of the girls coming to DID are actually on teams and know what they're doing. Pros, if you will.
I take a lot of breaks, including a snack halfway through (thank you, hypoglycemia). I can only make a few laps before I have to rest, and it's not that I'm out of breath or anything, my legs just stop working. I turn to jello. There's a drill where we fall (intentionally) and then have to recover as quickly as possible (that is, get up from the fall and keep skating). Recovery is one of the most important skills, as you need to get your ass out of the way if you're on the track, lest you cause a pile-up or get hurt yourself. And I simply haven't been able to get myself up. I've been blaming this on the rental skates, with their worn-down toe stops and lack of flexibility, but a good part of it is actually my weak-ass ankles and arthritic knees. I've been doing PT exercises in an attempt to strengthen both, but there's only so much I can do. I can't correct genetics.
Last week, during first drill -- called a "pull through", where we skate in a line and the last person weaves through the rest of the line, moving forward, and assisted by the girls in line who grab your hand and help pull you through -- I was the last girl to weave. There were derby girls behind and in front of me, all being as helpful and positive as possible, cheering me on when I lagged several feet behind the line, giving me pointers. I'd managed to make it through five or so girls in the line when I fell. Why? Because I fall. God only knows why. And I don't fall gracefully, or properly. I'm like Bambi in the scene where Thumper takes him onto the ice. I'm sitting there, legs splayed in a ridiculously unnatural way, and I just. can't. get. up. The girls keep flying by, throwing out an occasional word of concern. I manage to pull myself into a more ladylike/proper fall position, get up get up get up, to no avail. I'm hugging the wall, trying to stay out of the way. Wicked Sister (who was leading practise), skates over to me, after what felt like an eternity, asks if I'm all right, and tells me that I need to move to the center of the rink because they're starting freeskate (during which you skate as fast as you possibly can, and faster skaters are to stay to the outside of the track, where I was dejectedly sitting). I tell her I'm fine, and of course, I understand, I'll be out of the way promptly. In reality, I'm trying not to cry. Every muscle in my body is trembling, I've wrenched my knee something fierce, and every attempt at uprighting myself resulted in slightly less pretzeled legs, but no more. In reality, I desperately wanted to ask her for a hand up. In reality, I practically have to climb the carpeted wall to get back on my feet. Instead of skating center, I skim the edge of the rink and go sit down in "limbo" (where, during regular public skating hours, the parents and other non-skaters can hang out and watch those on the rink). My hands are shaking uncontrollably. I manage to make it down to the lobby, where Rockett (the owner of the rink, Denver Roller Doll, and founder of DID) is lacing up her own skates for practise. I tell her that I'd hurt myself during the previous week (lie), shouldn't have come to practise (probably true), and am going to leave. I ask that she please let Wicked know I've gone, because I have no balance (true, at this point) and fell during drill, and I don't want her to think it was because of said fall (lie lie lie).
I was humiliated.
I can talk the talk, but cannot skate the skate.
Rockett tells me not to worry, that she's "seen it all" and everyone progresses in their own time, that she can name lots of derby girls who started out not even being able to stay up on their skates for longer than 30 seconds. I don't know if she's telling the truth, but I appreciate the pep talk all the same. Even if it doesn't help. She also supposedly passed my contact info on to one of the DRD who has been giving private lessons. I haven't heard from her yet, but I hope that she has time for me. Lord knows I need the help.
Off-season tryouts are end of January. There probably won't be another until late summer. January is, apparently, the least competitive tryout, and they take on pretty much all of the girls who are remotely capable. I desperately want to do it... but, at this point, I'd rather not risk further embarrassment. I need to drastically improve over the next few weeks.
We have bare cement floors in the basement, so I can at least, theoretically, practise my crossovers and getting up from falls. And if I can get private lessons soon... But the larger part of me is hurt and terrified and disappointed -- what if, physically, I just can't do this? What if my ankles and knees are just too damned effed up to bear the necessary rigors of derby? I'm not giving up... not yet... but I feel like a small, scolded child every time I enter the rink. I haven't got any "friends" there, except for one girl who hasn't come in weeks, and feel (probably wrongly) like everyone's staring at me and judging me and rolling their eyes. I don't want to be the spaz that everyone dreads on the floor...