What does a roller derby team have in common with a fetus?

So, I’ve been retired from derby for just about 4 weeks now, and oddly, it doesn’t really feel like I’m in any state of recovery from addiction, or anything like that.  I joke that I feel like a prisoner that’s been in solitary, only now to be released into gen-pop, and see people I haven’t seen, and do things I haven’t done for a long time, almost 4 years to be more specific.

I’ve also joked that I’m not breaking up with derby.  We’re just in an open relationship.  I’m still skating with the local junior league, coaching fresh meat, etc.  But, derby and I now have an understanding that I’m also allowed to sleep in, skip parties, see my non-derby pals, craft, and do pretty much whatever I want.

Though the timing is funny, because I plan on trying to get pregnant sometime in the fall.  Recently, I had to forgo a groupon for free laser hair removal, planning to be pregnant and unable to use it.  Realizing that within the next few months I will need to start doing things a bit differently has made me realize that I am in a unique time-frame in which my body belongs to me, not to my derby team, and not to my fetus.

Stay with me here…when I was skating, I was one of those skaters that made a conscious decision to eat well, exercise, sleep, and be the healthiest skater I could be, so that I could contribute my 100% on bout day.  Derby also meant passing on other stuff, like drinking less, not getting tattooed (thus missing contact drills), missing out on family functions scheduled on bout days.

Now, being pregnant will mean watching every little thing, including what sort of nail polish I can use, how well I wash my fruit, avoiding certain cheeses and so on.  I am at my most vain level of anxiety when I see my gray roots peeking out and worry how I can cope with not dying my hair for at least 3 months.  Holy smokes…

In the meantime, I’m enjoying this time when I am the only person I need to eat, sleep, exercise, (or not exercise) for.  Nothing is causing me pain, making me have to pee or keeping me up at night.  My body is mine to serve, and neither my roller derby team or my fetus has any say in the matter.

My Readings

Once, about 15 years ago, I visited a psychic, because my room mate told me that he was hearing a voice call my name when no one else was there.  All she could say was that it was a ghost, but that my room mate was hearing it wrong, and the ghost was looking for someone else.  I’m not sure which dissapointed me more; the fact that she was telling me I had a strange ghost in my home, or the fact that she was too uncreative to make up a plausible reason that a ghost might be looking for me.

Flash forward to modern day me, last weekend, when I went to a psychic party with 5 girls.  The woman did a reading in my friend’s spare bedroom, complete with a cassette tape recording of the event.

To summarize the points that might have mattered, if I believed in psychics:

She told me that I am good at giving advice on relationships, but not so good at following my own common sense approach in these matters.

I asked her about us starting a family, and she said that if we hadn’t made an annoncement by thanksgiving, it would have to wait until next year.  (I know-she’s basically predicting that it could happen anytime except December.)  The reason I gave a second thought to that, is that if my math is right, October is the soonest I can get pregnant, and deliver after graduation next spring.  So, she did manage to pick the one month that I had in mind.

She told me that I had been short changed, or had something taken from me in October (I honestly cannot think of anything that would even support the imaginary notion)…and that this issue would be repaid to me in April…specifically on or after April 21.  I don’t know what this means, but I’ve marked 4/21/11 on my calendar, just in case.

She told me that a male mentor type figure would come back into my life soon-and that he would have an opportunity for me.  This was likely to coincide with the April thing.  I’m not sure who that figure would be, but I’m interested in whatever that might mean.

UPDATE: I’m all about kooky co-incidences, not so much psychic abilities.  But, on 4/21/11 I got an e-mail from one of the english teachers at school telling me that I’d won a writing contest scholarship.  So, how do you like them psychic apples?

Are you Juicing?

Why yes, yes I am.  I have become a hippy-dippy juice drinking, raw vegan…but only for a few days.

Let me back up…

I retired from Roller Derby last week.  I don’t like to think of myself as having “quit”…more like I’m in an open relationship with derby, with potential for hook-ups in the form of coaching, etc.  But, since I’m not burning 800 calories a night, 2-3 nights a week, I have got to watch my eating and exercise.

So, I tried running again, after a day of post-bout recouperation.  It was going well, until I tripped and scraped up my side 4 minutes in.  I walked home, bloody, and forlorn about my workout prospects. Without exercise, my social structures and overloaded school/derby/work schedule I was depressed, bored and pretty bitchy as a result.

Friday night, husband and I were watching a couple things on the netflix (yes, now that I’m done with derby, I can have a Friday night at home).  We started out watching “Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead” intending to just try 30 minutes…How interesting could a 140 minute program about drinking vegetable juice be?  I won’t go into the concept of the film…you should just watch it, or at least the trailer. Well, we watched the entire thing, and as the closing credits rolled, we just looked at each other and mutually agreed that the next morning we needed to 1.) Go buy a juicer. 2.) hit up the West Side Market for some fresh produce.

And we did.  We got the Juiceman at Target for $59, and dropped $45 on all the veggies we could haul at the local farmer’s market.  Then we came home and made juice.

Hubby started it off making a gazpacho type juice, tomato, cucumber, bell peppers, cilantro, celery and lime.  It was hella good. Dinner’s juice was a batch of fruit juice, pineapple, apple, orange and lime.  Also quite delicious, but we agreed it left us feeling a bit sluggish.  But, it was worth trying and feeling as though we were having dessert…one of the hardest concepts to give up with any change in diet.

This morning, I went to brunch with a derby pal.  If there’s anything worth breaking a juice fast for, it’s pancakes with one of your best girls.

This afternoon, we made up a big batch of “Mean Green” following the recipe in the aforementioned film.  Celery, kale, cucumber, apple and lime.  It looks like swamp water, but is actually really delicious.  We agreed we taste the cucumber and apple, maybe the celery, but very little kale.  So, I made another big batch, used up the rest of the veggies we bought, and I’m set for tomorrow’s daytime meals.

I know you didn’t come to my blog to read about my juicing habits.  You, like myself, are curious about how it works and how it feels.

The Juicer: I like the juicer.  It feels like a power tool for my health.  But, the juicing for 2 people is not without it’s time suck.  Furthermore, it’s a big ‘effing mess until you know what you’re doing and how to get things put through without jamming and overflowing the machine.  But, we figured out that it needs regular cleaning out between processing the leafy veggies, in order to keep it from backing up.  Apples, cucumbers and celery make a lot of juice. Kale, in contrast to it’s bulky leaves, makes very little. But, the process is enjoyable, complete with the pleasant aromas of preparing fresh summer fruits and veggies.

“Day 2”.  I’ll call it that, but let me start by saying I haven’t adhered closely, as I’ve had a light breakfast both days, due to previous commitments.  But tomorrow will be 100% juice. As for both days, I’ve had 2-3 pint glasses of juice, followed by about 5 pints of water (spiked with lime juice for flavor).  I was somewhat active both days, and I will say that while I don’t feel irritable or crabby, I do feel very tired.  Empty tired, like a hollowness or a lightness that I often experience after yoga.

It seems there is supposed to be a massive explosion of colon cleansing happening, and while I’ve had one decent poo today, it was not of the epic proportions that were described in the film.  I will attribute that to A. I’ve cheated with breakfasts B. I did not eat as much dark green veggies, and perhaps had too much fruit juice.  I can only hope that my colon is not saving up some catastrophic event for me right after I arrive at work tomorrow morning.  I may, or may not, keep you posted.

So far, I have no cravings to speak of.  I might “miss” coffee and dairy, but I don’t miss chocolate, hamburgers or ice cream.  Perhaps I’d like a glass of wine for some social time with my husband, but we’ll just fill that slot with juicing.

Why juice?: The film convinced me that juicing is not only a weight loss method, but it may help with my acne as well as my irregularity (read gas, bloating, and hemmoroids).  Most importantly, I’m getting into the habit of buying, cleaning and enjoying fruits and vegetables.  In about 11 days, I’ll be back to enjoying my cynically non-vegan meals, but it’s a flushing of healthy foods into my over-processed, carb and protein heavy diet.

Progress: I started out a 170 lbs and a 37 inch waist.  I will let you know, whenever this is done, what results may ensue.

Open letter to The Man That Took a Very Deliberate Piss on the Bus Today:

Attention: Man that took a very deliberate piss on the bus today,

I am calling you out on your public urination in the not-so-public of ways, because, at the time of your indiscretion, I was too shocked by your complete disregard for your fellow passengers.  As you got up and approached the doorway, I noticed your aged face and felt bad for the obese, old man struggling not to fall as the bus lurched down the avenue.  You stood by the door, leaning into the corner, looking hardened and sad.  But then, I heard the sound of running water, and looked down to see a solid stream coming from your direction.  Still, I felt bad for a moment, thinking that perhaps you had spilled your tasty beverage.

But alas, no.  You were taking a very deliberate piss just 3 mere feet away from me. You used the corner of the bus entrance like a urinal stall, zipped up and then sat back down.

I have considered the fact that, because you are old, perhaps you cannot hold it.  I would accept this as an unpleasant, but understandable reality.  However, I believe that you could have held it for an extra 15 seconds until you could have gotten off the bus and pissed in the street.  The gutter is there, to lead such grime, filth and urine into the sewer.  I am not oblivious to the fact that there are likely urine and feces particles on the curb of the biggest downtown street.  However, I am within my rights to naievely pretend that such bodily fluids do not end up on the seats and grip bars of such public transportation.

I also wish to remind you that it was before 12pm on a muggy Monday morning.  It was not late on a Saturday night, nor was it a national holiday commonly marked by excessive drinking. If you were drunk, it was not the socially acceptable time to be drunk.

I retain the right to not have to view, step in, or acknowledge your genitals/bodily fluids. Your use of public transportation is your acceptance of these terms, and you have broken the contract as stated herein.

Signed, sincerely,

The girl that was trying to keep to herself and
enjoy the bus ride home with the comfort of her mp3 player.

P.S. Perhaps, this letter should instead be an apology addressed to the girl standing just a mere foot from you and your member.  The one I tried to make eye contact with as you were sprinkling urine on her adidas.  I would like to apologize for not grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to safety.  But at the moment, it seemed better that she remain blisfully unaware.  As a passive party to the sullying of your sneakers, I apologize.

30 update

So, apparently I’m either overly optimistic about my goal-setting, or I just slacked…truthfully, I think it was somewhere in the middle–I more or less just changed my priorities and did what I could.   Here’s the update on my “by 30” goals, since the “30” passed last week:

Run 50 miles:

No go.  I did run about 28…including one day when I ran an hour straight.  But, I also stepped up my skating a lot over the past few weeks, as my knee and back were not loving the running.  I think that running requires a lot of overall body stability and strength, which is something I need to build up before I get hardcore into it.  Yoga is likely the thing I’ll need to focus on more soon, as I’ve had 2 back injuries so far this year.

Take fancy pictures and print:

No go.  Just gonna have to bump this until AFTER my trip.  more on that to come.

Drop 2 inches from waist:

Dropped 4! So there! I’m in the best shape of my life (despite the failed running goal) and it really did feel good to be fit by 30, even if I’ve never really been “fit” before.

Short story writing:

Nothing happening here.  However, the good news–I did win an academic scholarship to my college for the creative writing contest–only 3 undergrad prizes were awarded, so that’s sweet.

This was supposed to have been a goal, but I’ve also booked my trip to Kanab, UT and Best Friends Animal Sanctuary.  This has been a goal for me for sometime, and I think it’ll be a wonderfully cathartic experience to see homeless pets living the great life.  I still carry around a great deal of sadness and guilt as a former shelter worker that euthanized dogs and cats (for reasons I didn’t always agree with) and I think this trip might serve as a little bit of therapy.

Let’s just hope I have what it takes to come back to my rainy, foggy hometown.

5 by 30 update for Feb

Ok, about 2 months into my 5 by 30 challenge, so I’m due for an update:

1. run 50 miles. (not in a row!  are you nuts!  no, just 50 total…)

STATUS: I’ve run about 17 so far…and getting better and stronger.  I ran 4.4 miles on Monday, which is about 1.2 miles farther than ever before.

2. take more pictures with new fancy camera, all in new places.  print 5 of them, and frame and hang at least 1.

STATUS: I have not done this.  But I’m looking forward to doing it!

3. knock down the best jammer on my derby team.  (not naming names-she can’t know I’m gunning for her.)

STATUS: I did this, and it didn’t  feel as good as I thought it would.  Though, I think she was kind of proud of me.  However, she recently bruised my ribs, so I think we’re even.

4. drop 2 inches off the tummy, to be ready to wear a bikini for the first time ever (at 30!).  ECE is coming in June, and I need to be ready for the pool.  I’m big all over, but my mid-section is the area that is dangerously fatty.  This goal seems like it should be easy enough, considering goal #1.    Stick to the workouts, keep eating around 1500 calories/day…should be ok, right?  (Famous fat last words…) Starting measurements 39 inches at the belly button.  (This is why I’m blogging anonymously.  How do you like them apples, interwebs?)

STATUS: I’m kicking this goal’s ass!  I’ve lost 3.5 inches so far.  While 2 inches doesn’t go as far as one might think, I’m on my way.  I’m looking fit, dropping unhealthy weight, feeling good.  Not quite bikini ready just yet, but closer than I’ve ever been.

Advice: Myfitnesspal.com is a great tool!

5. Write 4 short stories, fiction or non-fiction.  That’s no small task, considering I’m the one making myself write them-they’re not assignments or deadline.  It’s a self-inflicted deadline.

STATUS: I have not done, nor even started this.  I have great anxiety over this project, and it’s not looking good.  I want to write, I enjoy writing, but I do not enjoy creating story ideas.  It seems that I do not do well without outside implemented deadlines. Suggestions?  Story ideas?  Help me out here, peoples.


Subliminal Messages

I’ve always been big on finding messages or meaning in the songs that come on the radio.  Not quite a sign.  Not that they tell me something I needed to know, but more like they affirm something I’d already suspected.

Today, it happened 3 times, in very conspicuous ways…

1. Brick House

This morning, my derby team met with a sports psychologist to outline our goals and overcome some “baggage” that we’d been carrying in terms of anxiety.  (Note, if you ever thought derby wasn’t legit: would a “staged” sport integrate sports psychology?)   The Dr. helped one girl who was feeling ineffective by asking her to visualize herself with a wall, a big brick wall made up of her team mates.  We all instantly started thinking about “brick house”, wiggling in our seats.  Partially from the bass line in our heads and partially from anticipation for our home opener in 2 weeks.

Brick House came on the radio on my way home from that meeting.

Mr. Big Stuff

2. This afternoon, I stopped by the funeral of my ex’s aunt.  I won’t go into the very bad history that I have with my ex (we’ll save that for a more cathartic post) but let’s just say that I was there for an hour and all we did was nod to each other.  I was just glad that I didn’t get a case of the nerves or the sense of (unwarranted) shame that often comes when I see him.  Actually, seeing him just made me feel bad for his mouse of a new girlfriend, because he’s going to chew her up and spit her out, like a soggy pile of dripping chaw.  Like he did me several years ago.

Walking out of the funeral home, back straight, feeling myself strong in my stride, I felt like I was leaving a funeral for the sad me, the self-doubting, me.    We’ve been done for years, but the insecurity and anxiety has stayed.  No more.  Burned. Buried. Dust in the ever-loving wind.

Who does he think he is?

3. Proud Mary

Proud Mary is somewhat an anthem to my derby league–Rolling on the River…Big wheels keep on turning…proud mary keeps on Burning!

Tina. Proud Mary.  Derby Girls. Me.  All examples of women that have it rough-but come out on top.  Hard work, aches, pains.  But we keep on burning.

If Tina were standing here, I’d have to thank her for the pep talk.  Let her know that she did me almost as much good as the morning’s therapy session.