The Accidental Olympian

HELP ME. I THINK I'M DROWNING. IN MY OWN SNOT.

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.

 

 

All images were taken by Masonite Burn.
Check out the WHOLE album here.

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.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

EYE DOC

I have issues with authority and perfectionism. And when I say 'issues' I of course mean I get really intimidated and usually cry when asked questions or challenged by ANYONE of higher rank than myself.

Which is a seriously sexy trait.

The worst thing in the entire world growing up was if a teacher needed to talk to me about something even seemingly important. Even if a teacher was telling ten year old me with my bad bangs that I did a good job on a test I would begin to cry. Cry simply because someone of authority was speaking in my general direction.

As I've aged the insta tears have softened to some degree, but the fear and confusion surrounding authority and confrontation still lingers. I want coaches to think I am the best athlete they've ever had the pleasure to coach, if my therapist tells me she is proud of me for any reason at all I smile as if she has just presented me with a million dollar check, and when forced to interact with members of the medical field I want nothing more than to please them with my stellar unprecedented health.

I bring up this quirk of my personality to explain to you why it is I felt the need at my eye exam yesterday to walk away from my appointment winner of BEST EYES IN THE WHOLE WORLD.

I so wish I was joking.


I haven't had an eye exam since I was in elementary school. So now that I have health insurance I decided it was time to book myself a consultation with the eye guy. I've been prone to tired eyes at the end of a day looking at the computer, so I wanted to make sure there wasn't something more going on besides the obvious I-spend-too-much-time-on-the-computer-syndrome.

My doctor was a fine man, friendly, personable, not scary or mean in the slightest. He didn't demand eye perfection from me, and yet as he held up the little eye cover and asked me to read the bottom row of letters my brain was screaming, GET IT RIGHT! DON'T MESS UP! SHOW HIM HOW AMAZING YOUR EYES CAN BE!

Each row I prattled off left me feeling like a giant. I am Ashley and I have amazing vision! I wanted to dance around the room and do cartwheels with each successful line. As he fiddled with the lenses and ran me through a battery of tests I could actually hear my internal voice chanting, "You can do it!" I was pushing my eyes to the limit, willing them to see things that weren't even there, pushing their power to the very edge.

For a reason even I am unable to fully grasp I wanted nothing more than for my doctor to pull the machine back from my face, tears welling in his eyes and proclaim, "I have never met someone with such amazing vision. Here, give me a hug."


When it was all said and done I walked away with a proclamation of perfect far sighted vision, pretty good near sighted vision, and a devastating blow in the reality that it wouldn't hurt me to wear a slight prescription while at work in front of the computer to help combat the end of the day tired eye feeling.

And upon hearing the word 'prescription' I can honestly say that I have never been so disappointed in one of my extremities in my entire life.

Honestly it's like my eyes didn't even try.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

SANITY

So here's the deal. Winter and I haven't exactly been getting along lately. Winter is kind of a downer of sorts and is constantly being all, "YOU HAVE NOTHING! GIVE UP!" And I'm like, "Wow winter, you're kind of a douche canoe." And then winter bitch slaps me and I cry.

So yeah, winter is a dick.

That is until recently. This month winter decided to give me a break by giving me things like high 50's and sunny for weeks at a time. All of a sudden I can't help but be all, "Wow winter, I've never seen this side of you! Did you lose weight?" And then winter smiles and we skip off into the sunset holding hands.

 

Most recently I've found that it is fairly hard to dwell on the bitchiness of winter while you lay on warm sand. This weekend Adam and I packed the car and the dog, high-fived winter and headed to a little beach town an hour and a half from Olympia called Ocean Shores. There seems to be something about this little spec on the map that reaches inside that messy brain of mine and straightens everything out. Once this very shore gave me strength, once it provided a welcome vacation, and now, a little bit of sanity.

I don't know what it is about me and the beach, but there is nothing like the ocean to help me reflect on life and make me feel all warm and fuzzy and shit.

I assume this too shall pass.

Really though, there is nothing cuter than a boy and his kite.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY! KINDA. MAYBE? EH, CLOSE ENOUGH

From what we were told, Oly began her life as a tiny puppy dropped off in a shoebox on the steps of a shelter sometime in mid February. So small and helpless her eyes weren't even open yet.

So basically, what started like THIS,

 

turned into THIS in one year.

I knew when we moved to Olympia almost a year ago that I desperately wanted, no take that back NEEDED and would most likely die without a dog. What I didn't expect was how absolutely kick ass it would be to live with Miss Oly. Quirks and all.

Lady, you are one cool bitch.

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian

KEEP YOUR PANTIES ON, I FOUND A PICTURE!

Photo taken by Masonite Burn. 

Look through the whole set from the double header on Masonite Burn's Flickr page.

I am hoping that as more of the professional photographer's images are released online I will be able to share with you more and more images of me sweating profusely totally red faced. Hopefully there will even be one or two where I am either A. falling down, or B. giving/taking a hit. I am dying to see an action shot or twelve.

Once I have a nice collection I will make up a little link page and share a few more with you.

I can't tell you how much I am kicking myself right now for not forcing Adam to take video of this night. Damn you adrenalin brain!

OH, and I promise the Accidental Olympian isn't going to turn into daily posting about my oh-so-interesting, actually-who-really-cares life as a derby girl. Regular schedule postings about my dog, and the mundane reality of my life shall return shortly.

Don't you worry your pretty little head. 

Ashley, the Accidental Olympian