Standing against the wall she turned to me and asked, "Can't we try this in slow motion? I mean, does anyone even know what the hell is going on right now?"
I chuckled, "I've been told this is actually harder in slow motion."
"I don't believe you for a second," she rebuffed.
I tried in this free moment to explain how the team operated. Trying to explain the whole 'throw you in with the wolves' approach I too had been subjected to as a newbie. I looked back into the three months I had been coming to practice and I threw a handful of tips at her I wish I had known. Her eyes darted from my face to the gaggle of women slamming into one another on the track before us.
I remembered what it felt like to feel as if you have absolutely no idea if standing on that spot was the greatest idea you ever had, or the worst.
Practice ended and as I packed up my gear there she was again. She introduced herself and then surprised me by thanking me. "Not everyone is willing to help out the girl falling all over herself in the corner. It means a lot," she said. I professed it was no big deal, and told her that I too had felt as she did when I started. I admitted to her that watching the advanced skaters dance in the rink had made, and even still makes my inabilities feel as if they are larger than myself. I explained, "I only started in November, and I am proof that these girls can teach you to skate. Somehow, someway."
As I walked through the doors on my way to my car I called behind me, "BYE! See you all tomorrow night!" and calls of, "BYE!" "SEE YOU!" and "LATER!" reverberated behind me. For the first time I realized I may have passed that milestone I have been so eager to reach. Quite possibly becoming overnight someone that a new player feels confident enough to ask a question, if only to ask if it gets less scary down the road. Against all odds I might have become someone worth reaching out to in the middle of all the chaos and confusion.
The entire conversation, as short as it was reminded me how recently I too was that girl only one or two practices in. I still remember all too well what it feels like to stand in a room that was moving dangerously fast hoping I would either get it, or get the sense to stay home.
Who knew I'd have the confidence to proclaim, "I promise you it gets better. Even better, I promise you'll get better."
Plus, she has to keep coming, or else she'll miss out on all the fun socks.
People, I live for derby socks.
Ashley, the Accidental Olympian
LOVE THOSE SOCKS!!! I definitely could see you orchestrating an amazing photographic documentary of roller girls, starting with their socks and skates! (Think about it -- that would ROCK!)
Posted by: Jen A. | 01/29/2010 at 03:31 PM
JEN -- That would rock. Now all I need is a better camera. Can I borrow yours?
Posted by: Ashley, The Accidental Olympian | 01/29/2010 at 03:39 PM
Feel the Fear...Do it anyway..That was on a dive shirt,but its true
Posted by: marti | 02/01/2010 at 03:59 PM
Amazing. You inspire in a major, major way.
Posted by: GirlsGoneChild | 02/04/2010 at 06:58 PM
GGC -- Is it weird if I frame your comment on this post? It is? Damn.
Thank you for taking the time to read my words. And really, you're the amazing one, YOU interviewed Drew Barrymore!!!!!
Posted by: Ashley, the Accidental Olympian | 02/04/2010 at 07:38 PM