“Well, That Didn’t Pan Out”

In the immortal words of Rooster Cogburn, “that didn’t Pan Out”.

Remember how I posted on Sunday, in my post 5 by 30 my goal #3: knock down the best jammer on my derby team? Well, I did that, and it didn’t go so good.

We were both in the pack, scrimmaging.  She was talking to someone on her right, turned away from me on the inside.  I saw her, and I thought, “Hey! I need to mark that off my list, right?  Take the hit!”  So I did it.  I went for the hit, shoulder to sternum, and skated on.  A stride later, I hear commotion, and turn to see her in a pile on the floor.  I went down on my knees to check on her.  Her shoulder was clearly contorted.

As she wriggled on the floor, making a pained noise that can only be transcribed as “meeep…..meeeeep” I thought, “this is not what I’d set out to do.”

So, she’s ok.  An overextended shoulder, and hurt pride.  She skated shortly after that, but came to my team, so I’d quit “beating the shit” out of her.

I’m marking that off my goals list, and making a new goal: Don’t set goals that potentially hurt other people.  It’s not a good feeling to complete such goals.

On a side note, if anyone ever questions the true “friends off the track” nature of derby, the girl that I crushed asked me to be in her wedding after practice.  See? It’s all forgiven.

First Whistle

If you’ve ever watched or played Roller Derby, you might know the significance of the first whistle.  It’s the start of the new jam, a call to action, if you will.  It’s the moment that a skater waits for, posed, anxious, ready to move forward as soon as she’s permitted.  After the first whistle, the pack launches into motion, a swarm of adrenaline, aggression, and heightened awareness.

This isn’t another roller derby blog.  It’s a writing blog.  It just happens to be writing by a girl that plays and knows derby…and likes derby analogys.

Derby and writing are very similar.  Both are suited to a certain sort of person…someone that might be a bit broken.  Both are cathartic, bringing some to a profound awareness and realizations about one’s own strengths and weaknesses.   Derby and writing are both cause and cure to depression, loneliness, and anxiety.

As in derby, you can either skate by in life, resting on your natural abilities, and staying within your comfort zone.  Or, you can push yourself to move forward, take some hits, and be hardcore.

When I’m retired from skating, I want to remember the anticipation of the first whistle, the call to action.  I want to take that sense of drive with me into my writing.  So, here I am.  Ready, and out on the line.