My Submission for Derby Girl

Thirty . . .

I am going to be thirty.

I practiced saying it for awhile. It didn't feel right. It wasn't me. I watched with horror as all those around me turned the big 30. They all seem so put together. Like real adults that have it all figured out. I never did quite meet up to my own expectations. I never graduated college or moved to New York to pursue my love of Broadway. I kinda just scooted along in life. Hitting jobs just to make rent. I had a ton of potential, but I didn't apply myself. (WOW! Now doesn't that sound familiar). Not that I don't love my life. I mean I am one of the lucky ones to have found the yin to my yang and we have beautiful and spirited little children. A three year old, a two year old and an infant. I am lucky to have the opportunity, even for a short time, to be with them all day..

All day.

All night.

Every day.

No adult interaction for hours on end.

How many different ways can I cut this banana before she will actually eat it?

Oh look my Better Homes and Gardens magazine is here.

Can't read it . . baby screaming.

I'm slowly loosing my mind.

I love my children. They are amazing little creatures. They really are good natured and for the most part, pretty easy to handle. It was just constant. My husband is amazing as well. Smart, sexy, and a crazy good dad. Like those guys that you think only really exist on TV or are already married to your best friend. Yup, I have one of those. He has just one tiny little issue.

A mistress.

Her name is World of Warcraft. I despise WoW with all of my being. I would be up all night with the baby, up all day with the toddlers, make dinner, put babies to bed and just sit staring at some random reality TV, wondering who these people were that actually did things other than just what needed to be done on a daily basis. And hubby would be in front of that shiny screen, head set and all in a entirely different world. I didn't exist. I could run around naked singing 'bicycle' by Queen and he wouldn't bat an eye. Well he may look up, see that I am out of my spot and ask if I could grab him a soda.

Looking at it now, I know that it is his release, his way of dealing with working 9 hours at a dead end job and coming home and immediately being bombarded with 3 little ones and a wife in desperate need of communication.

We recently had moved to this area so that hubby could get a job. All my friends were so far away so I mostly had only myself, a few hours with hubby, a 3 year old and the friends that lived in my computer to talk too.

I need a break.

Something just for me.

Up until now, my outlet was food. It has always been food. Food and I are best buds and worst enemies. I love food. Food loves my thighs. And since having the baby, I hadn't lost any weight. Sitting in front of the boob tube for hours a night and shoving ice cream in my mouth probably wasn't helping.

"Maybe I should join a gym"

"uh. huh" . . . "I mean what?"

He actually looked at me!! :)

"You think you would stick with it?"

"I don't know."

"Would you have fun working out?"

"Probably not"

"hmmm .. . "

And I lost him.

The next day I sat staring at pictures of friends on Facebook. She is so pretty. I am also lucky enough to be able to call her my friend. She was one of the first people to ever hold my first born. I baked her daughters birthday cake. We had playdates. We socialized with the same crowd on myspace and facebook. Yet, she had another life that I really didn't know too much about, except that her name was different, Vanna Spite. How cool is that??

I thought about the times she told me that roller derby would be awesome for me and that it is exactly what I need. I glanced at pictures of her in bouts. She looks so powerful and strong and MEAN. Nothing like the sweet girl I know. It's like she's a completely different person.

I instantly, almost jokingly, changed my facebook status.

. . . . wants to be a derby girl.

Instantly my notifications lit up like Christmas. People I never talk too were all about it!! Likes here, comments there. Even people from high school. Like do they really remember the fat band geek that missed National Honors Society for academics because she got a D in P.E.?? Finally my best friend from H.S. speaks up.

'Remember that time we went skating and you fell underneath the bench!'

Oh yeah . . I remember. It was the one and ONLY time I ever put skates on. Maybe once before that but I can't remember it. I probably blocked the horribly embarrassing memory from ever popping up again. These people are crazy. Then I get a message from another friend. It was a link to the Stateline Roller Derby Divas fanpage. I spent hours clicking links to pages of these beautiful women. Youtubing 'roller derby'. I stared at their web page.


'Even if you have never skated, have not been on skates in years or just want a fun excuse to get on your skates more often, we would love to have you be part of our growing team. Our coaches and veteran players will work with you on becoming a better skater and a help you become a hard-hitting derby girl!'

Really??

I mean when they say 'even if you have never skated before', I'm pretty sure that means like if you haven't played roller derby. Right?

I want to be a hard-hitting derby girl.

There was a contact email. So I jotted a nervous and impulsive email, that I actually still have in my sent box. Yes, I really am that lame. A few hours later I receive a response. The main thing I remember about this messages is that it was nice. Not evil and hard like I thought all these girls were. This girl seemed sweet and sincere and really seemed like she wanted me to come check out practice. It was signed _______ (aka Redneck B. Yotch)

HA! I read the email word for word to my hubby.

'he he Redneck B. Yotch. That's funny. But also kinda scares me.'

I tried imagining what a Redneck B. Yotch would look like. Maybe this isn't for me.

I put off going to check out a practice for awhile, always coming up with some excuse. Finally, my husband said 'I guess your not going to go are you?'

'WHAT?!?!'

I went that night. Driving to the rink I felt sick, thinking about all the possibilities of what the night would have in store for me. Visions of horribly embarrassing moments and falling under benches. This was so crazy. I got to the rink later than expected and sat in my car debating just driving back to Dairy Queen and diving into a blizzard for a few hours and then just head home to tell my husband it was amazing, but just too time consuming. But then a light in my head went on. To give up now would be giving in to everyone that has laughed at me and said I couldn't do it. I would go home and call my mom and have to tell her that she was right. HELL NO!!

I walked into the rink, tables covered with random suitcases. I found a seat in the corner just to sit to myself and watch. The girls were just starting their warm-up. I wonder which one is the B. Yotch. None of them really looked like a B. Yotch. I sat watching as women geared up. I was amazed at how diverse these women were. All from different walks of life, all here for different reasons. I watched as these normal women put on pads. All geared up they looked so fierce. I looked at these girls hit the track. Now I'm not so sure, I mean any of them could be the B. Yotch. They seemed larger than life, skating like they were more comfortable on wheels than in their own shoes. I noticed some of them glance towards me, but for the most part I was invisible and that was fine with me. I was lost in a whirlwind of fishnets and helmets. Until I heard a voice behind me.

"Hi! Did you come to check out practice?"

There stood one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. She popped out a mouth guard and shot me a smile.

"um . . yeah."

"Great! My name is Hot Pepper. The girls call me Hottie. Come out on the track, you can get a better view."

She skated off and I followed, scared to cross the rink for fear I may get ran over, or trip someone or cause some crazy pile up and take out the entire league. Because honestly, if it were to ever happen, it would happen to me. I jog across the track and meet Hot Pepper on the inside.

"What's your name?"

"Treasure"

"Really? You already have a derby name! This is Coach and the Warden."

She skates off to join the rest of the girls as they skate in fast paced circles around the track. It surprised me how cool it was in the rink. Then I realized it was really because these girls were so fast they were creating a mini A/C! Coach and Warden introduced themselves to me.

Warden and I started some small talk. The basics, name, age, location, kids . . you know, the norm. Then he asks, "So when is the last time you skated?"

"Um . . well like once when I was younger. I feel like I am not even going to be able to stand in skates."

"Well then I guess you can only get better, right?"

Coach checks a stop watch. "Bring it in!"

The girls did an introduction, starting with me.

"Hey! You are the one that e-mailed me!" a girl said with a smile!

Ahhhh . . it is the Redneck B. Yotch!! :)

The rest of the practice is pretty much a blur. Watching the practice from the inside is sickening, literally. I remember thinking, 'Wow, they are amazing!', 'God, I'm gonna puke.', 'Wow, they are amazing!'.

Have you ever watched someone smile. I mean really smile. The kind that comes from a bride as she says 'I do' or a grandparent gazing at their first grandchild. A real smile. That was something that is still engraved in my memory. Hit after hit. Falls, blocks, sprints, crunches, water breaks, every minute of my time there, these girls smiled. A smile that lit up their entire being. It was like an energy that rushed from the floor through those multi colored wheels, through rainbow laces, polka dotted socks, every string of fishnet until it reached their mouth guard and had to be let out.

When the last stretches were done and players started to leave, Hottie skated towards me with a spunky blonde beside her, Warrior. I knew it was Warrior cause the name graced her star covered helmet. They thanked me for coming.

Hottie looks me up and down "Dang! I still can't believe you have three kids."

"She has three kids?"

"Yup, one who is a baby."

"You look great!"

I blush.

Hottie decides at this point it is something to announce as we head off the rink.

Pointing at me as we made our way through a group of girls, "This girl has three kids!"

"BITCH!"

Not sure to this day who yelled the last statement. Judging by the voice in my head, it sounds like Logi. Regardless, it was the greatest compliment I had received in years. I needed this. I was in love.

I dove into derby head first, literally and figuratively. I fell more times than I can count. The first two weeks, I hurt more than I have ever hurt. Even having children didn't compare to the shooting pain that came every time I sat down. I had bruises the size of grapefruits covering every inch of my tush. (Sorry for the visual) It hurt to breathe and sleep and chew. Everything hurt and I loved it. I hit every open skate I could trying to become a better skater.

However, I ignored rule number one. The first rule I ever learned about derby. ALWAYS WEAR YOUR PADS.

Three weeks after starting derby, I sat in the emergency room being told that it was quite possible I would have to have surgery. An attempt at a cross-over landed me directly on my knee. Hey, at least I fell forward right? I sat in a quiet cubical thinking that this has to be some sort of record for the shortest derby career in history. Trying to come up with the words to tell my mother that once again she was right, the xray technician came in. He looked at me with a giggle.

"Your results were sent to the doctor. And why don't you take up a new hobby. How about knitting, that's good for a woman with children. Think about your kids and good luck."

I sat there not believing that he actually said that. All I wanted to know from that moment on was 'when can I get on skates again'.

Jerk.

No surgery, for now. I went through six weeks of physical therapy and by the third was begging my PT to please clear me to skate.

PLEASE!!!

The months following flew by. Coming back from an injury hurt worse than I had expected it too. In fact I have to retract my previous view about the first few weeks of practice pain, this was so much worse! I refused to give in to that pain. I refused to give in to my doubts.

The pain doesn't seem to really hurt until after I leave the rink anyway. In skates, I feel strong, like nothing can hurt me. Hit me, push me, kick me. I will fall. I will get up and I will skate harder because of it. I think that way now. Mainly because I have learned that the women in that rink don't care if I fall, they only care that I get back up.

The day finally came. I am thirty. I spent it like any woman turning thirty, in roller skates of course. At this time, I had hardly practiced in the actual track. I was scared more than anything else. Scared that I would slow down practice for the rest of the team or completely face plant. And now after injuring myself, scared that I would get hurt. I spent the practices after coming back skating around the outside. The girls had lined up for a ladder drill. We have to stay in a pace line, at arms length and each girl must weave in and out from the back of the line to the front. I quickly left the pace line.

"Your knee bugging you?" Coach yelled.

Good one.

"Yeah it is."

After all, it's not really a lie, my knee hurts all the time.

I skated outside watching girls weave in and out. It seemed so easy, why can't I do that? I hear some one behind me.

"Tayz! TAYZ!"

I turn back to see Daft Spunk coming to join me.

"watcha doin?" She says. Tilting her head to the side.

"Well my knee hurts and . . . "

"You're 30, not 80. You have had three children. Your knee doesn't hurt THAT bad. Get in there."

*ugh* She's so convincing with that pink mouth guard grin. What's the worst thing that can happen. Visions of the mass Diva pile up once again creep into my head. I hesitate, take a deep breath and join at the back of the line.

Coach yells "Go Spunk"

"I'm not going, it's Tayz's turn."

Oh crap.

Here goes nothing.

In. Out, In. Out. In. Out . . . . . .

I did it!!

Like the entire thing!! I did it!

Spunk finishes her turn looks back and smiles. I skated with the team, in the track the entire night. I skate up to Spunk after practice.

"Thanks for making me do that. It's the first time I have ever skated in the track."

"Pretty awesome birthday present, huh?!"

Reflections on the past can sometimes mold themselves into what you need them to be. Looking back now, I'm not sure that was even the exact conversation, or rather a trick that my mind played on itself to force me into doing something that I didn't think I could. A mesh of Spunk's encouragement, my doubt and the constant whirlwind of thoughts I always have going on in my head at any given moment. Realistically, I wouldn't believe that anyone in derby would push you into a drill after an injury. But what is clear, as I remember back, is the look in her eyes. She was determined to see that I did this. I can't remember a time in my life that someone has looked at me with such determination. She knew I could do it, why can't I know that too?

I think that moment was my turning point. The point when I said 'F it'. I have to go in this with my whole heart. I am not a gifted skater, or the most athletic and that may mean that I have to work twice as hard, hurt twice as much, and focus more than others. At that moment I learned that I am powerful and no one can take that away from me. No more listening to the people that tell me I can't do it. No more of the 'advice' from so called people that 'just want me to be safe'. Besides, that negativity wasn't what was holding me back. That night I overcame my biggest obstacle, myself. I realized that the only thing making this not happen, is me.

As we took the track down, everyone busts into one of the loudest renditions of 'Happy Birthday' I have ever had the pleasure of hearing. I hang my head and then look up to see those gorgeous mouth guard smiles. I was a Diva and it was high time I live up to that title!

Months have passed since then. I have lost 35 pounds and gained more self confidence than I have had in my entire life. Derby makes me a better woman, a better mother, and a better wife. I am strong, sexy, a real life hard hitting derby girl. And with the help from my Divas, I will loose more weight, gain more strength, hit harder, skate faster, and never quit trying to improve. Not just for me but to protect them.


I still need help with something at just about every practice and sometimes it gets so frustrating! I have had DD and Hottie holding my hands as I attempt to skate backwards. Shan, Cat, Loca and Jiggy have literally been on thier knees trying to teach me how simple and how fun a baseball slide can be. And I still struggle with those darn cross-overs. I guess they weren't kidding when they said 'it doesn't matter if you have never skated before'.

Often I wonder just what it is that keeps me coming back to this rink. Well, just think about being able to fail over and over and have it be okay. In real life you can't do that. You fall, people laugh, kick you back down. Honestly, there is someone out there just waiting to watch you fall. In derby, you have an entire family who will do anything to help you get back up. They will lend a hand, dust you off and push you harder the next time. That's love.

I am lucky enough to have the privilege of having these girls as friends and the honor of calling them my sisters.

Come check us out sometime and until then . . . EAT MY SPRINKLES!!!

-Tayz T. Cakes #717
Stateline Roller Derby Divas