Nearly two weeks ago I stood up, beat my hands upon my chest and roared, “I AM A DERBY GIRL! HEAR ME ROAR!” Which I know is redundant seeing as I just mentioned I would be roaring in the first place. Whatever.
Anyway, I came to my little corner of the internet and I proclaimed I’d survived. Months of practice, a heaping pile of nerves, and a few bruises later I was proud to tell you all the tale of my induction into the world of derby. I even found a picture the Monday after the bout. Some people liked it, and some (*cough* *cough* MOTHER!) didn’t even recognize me.
Feeling smug having survived my first bout I took two days off from practice. I figured since I was still on an adrenalin high days later it was probably best to give my heart and my body a little rest. Plus, the winter Olympics were on and I love me some snowboarder ass snowboarder skills. And then, right when I thought I would be jumping back into derby, returning to practice a slightly seasoned Fresh Meat I caught something being lovingly referred to as Derby Disease.
An illness so evil its taken down half of my league.
Derby Disease, doesn’t that sound like we all had some crazy derby orgy after the bout and then caught some weird non FDA approved STD?
Your mind totally just went somewhere really nasty didn’t it?
Sorry about that.
It has been almost two weeks since my first roller derby bout and I have only managed to attend practice twice. The first time was a pathetic attempt at skating as I hardly had enough energy in me to remember how to place one foot in front of another, let alone think about things such as strategy, coordination, or speaking. And also, turns out a snot filled body is not exactly conducive to breathing. Who knew? Then last night I gave it another try and there were only eight girls in attendance out of nearly 30. Needless to say I took frequent trips to the restroom to hack up green stuff and suck air. It was HOT.
I’m telling you. This Derby Disease is a killer.
Seeing as I am *still* walking around with what feels like a mucus covered mouse scurrying up and down the back of my throat, thereby making it nearly impossible to breathe or swallow correctly, I shall leave you with some pictures I’ve located from the last time I truly skated over TWO WEEKS AGO.
I’m thinking that if I don’t pull it together soon these pictures might be the last you ever see of me in derby drag.
Crap. I think I just heard a car pull up. I bet it’s someone from the team looking to take my jersey back.
I’ll just hide under the couch for now with my Kleenex and hope they forget about me.