Did you think I was dead? Did you think that I wimped out and quit going to derby practice. Did you think that I shamefully pretended to "lose" my quads because I couldn't face my utter lack of skill and style? Did you think that maybe I was recovering in a hospital with half of my
face burned off in a hideous pace line accident?
Did you think I would even know what a pace line is now?
Well, actually, I do know what a pace line is. I know about pace lines, goats, pain trains, lateral motion, push carts, pill boxes, pyramids, breakaways, relays, WFTDA, international registry, and circles of pain.Because. I. Live. And I learned all about them in derby practices I have been attending since January.
I also want to announce that I have improved. But I am still not great.
There are some ladies who are primed for derby - whether they be athletic, a former hockey player, a fantastic skater, or even just really pissed off about something - and go from their first practice to their first bout in 3 to 6 months. I am not one of those kind. I am the kind of derby player that struggles with every single damn skill. I am the kind that intuitively does the exact opposite of what she is supposed to do. I'm not even particularly angry. I am the kind that masks her constant identity crisis and feelings of inadequacy behind a smile every practice.
Still, Go Me! for tenacity. I'd like to catch you all up on what's been happening since I was last here. It'll be a fun story, with everything from torn muscles and herniated discs (though not everything is derby related). There is derby name angst. I also get to tell you how and why I have turned into a league tramp.
But I can't right now because I am about to head off to practice.See you soon :)
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