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

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

I STILL HAVE ALL MY LIMBS!

I know you were worried about that right? What with Sunday being my debut bout as an official roller derby biatch.

I am here to announce to the world that I still have all my limbs, no one punched me in the face, and I not only lived to skate another day, I AM COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH ROLLER DERBY.

Now comes the disappointing part, I have no pictures. Not even one measly shot of me in my getup before I left for the bout. People, you have not felt adrenalin and nerves until you’ve gotten ready for your first roller derby bout where not only a few friends and neighbors will be attending, but also 800 STRANGERS. Reminder, half of the strangers might want to kick your ass in the parking lot at the end of the bout.

And by the way, can we talk about how wild it is to play a sport where the opposing team’s fans are likely to tell you to your face they hope you DIE? I will never forget the first time I got a major (meaning I did something really wrong and was sent for a ‘timeout’), and as I skated to the penalty box someone’s MOTHER screamed, “How’s it feel to be a cheater you little fuck!?!?!?!?!”  CLASSY.

So in other words, talk about some pressure.


Adam was the official camera bitch, but sadly my camera is just a simple little guy and therefore was unable to catch more than a bunch of blurry blobs moving across the track. Seeing as I was playing in a double header you’d assume I would have had some time to snap pictures of my teammates while waiting for my team’s second go round, but that would have required me to use my brain, and my brain was most definitely not functioning.

I’m not even exaggerating when I say that the amounts of adrenalin moving through my system was second only to snorting a gallon sized ziploc bag of coke. And then shooting some heron. To take the edge off of course.


In the end my team stepped on the track virgins, and had our cherries popped so hard Sunday night I bet some of us are still walking funny.

Our group of misfits had NEVER skated in a roller derby bout before in our lives. The team we played told us they too were virgins, told us that together we could fumble around in the dark for one another’s bra straps and walk away a little more knowledgeable of the magic of derby love, but no. Those bitches have been playing for a year.

Needless to say they kicked our asses.

I hope they feel proud.


At first I was flustered. I can’t lie to you. When I was skating in the position of the jammer (the person trying to skate through the pack and score points), it was extremely demoralizing to take hit after hit and be unable to get through the pack. It is hard not to let it get to you when you seem to be physically unable to get past the wall of angry flesh being created by the other team. When the first half ended I won’t pretend I wasn’t a little rocked by a score of 98 to 23.

But then I remembered that my team pretty much all started skating in NOVEMBER. And hell, we’d managed to score 23 points against a team that has competed in multiples of bouts! Go us.


Before our second half we gathered together and the pep talk went something like this, “I love you bitches. Now lets be honest, we are never going to beat those girls out there. So if the only thing we take away from this half is that we improve, then we did an amazing fantastic wonderful job. Now go! Kick much ass!”

And wouldn’t you know it, that next half we went out with our heads held high and knocked some people around. I scored a point or two and sent a few women careening into the sidelines. Girls who had been too terrified to give a hit, let alone take one in the first half slammed their bodies into the opposing team and even knocked a few down. We smiled, and we lost, but when we took our final team lap around the rink people actually stood up and screamed for us.

Because you know what, we did it.

Ashley, the Accidental Derby Loving Olympian

PERFORMANCE ANXIETY

I'm sort of in a fight with my body right now.

Or more importantly, I'm in an epic battle with my right knee.


See, on Valentine's Day at 6:30pm yours truly is going to don my brand new Oly Rollers jersey, a tiny black skirt, fishnets, some teal and black socks and my skates and try to knock the crap out of some strangers. I have known about the date of this bout for quite some time, I have attended practices, worked out, studied rules, paid dues, attempted to absorb strategy, felt like a warrior, and felt like I suck all at the same time. Except the reality of my debut bout was always pretty far away so I didn't have to get all anxious and worked up about it.

Until now.

The realization that this is here, that there will be upwards of 300 people in a room, cheering, screaming, yelling, and WATCHING ME either kick ass or suck is starting to turn my skin inside out.

Now I would be nervous about this event no matter what seeing as I only started playing roller derby in November, but throw in the fact that last Sunday morning in practice I managed to screw up my right knee and you've added a whole new level of stress and worry to my plate I can't quite process. Now I am not only stressed about the reality that I need to perform, but I am also praying that ten minutes into the bout I don't have some behemoth roller derby hog land on my knee thereby causing the bottom half of my right leg to separate from my body while all the girls behind me run over my fingers with their skates and then spit on me.

KNEE, THIS IS THE WRONG TIME TO FUCK WITH ME.


The funny thing is that I know the stress and anxiety I am feeling right now over this bout is all tied to my deep seated issues with perfectionism. I can remember all too clearly from my days of travel softball how my brain would overtake my body if I knew that I NEEDED to score a point, NEEDED to catch this ball, NEEDED to win the game in a clinch moment. My brain took the pressure to be perfect, to save the day, to become a hero and made my limbs jello; thereby letting everyone down.

Or at least that's what it felt like at 13.

I can only hope that 12+ years of life have taught me the slightest bits of coping skills.

Right? Maybe?

Dear god Ashley PULL IT TOGETHER!


At the end of the day I know I need to take solace in the fact that HELLO I am playing a sport where I can take out all my frustration and nerves by repeatedly slamming my big ass into the opposing team and thereby making them hit the pavement. And when they get back up, I can legally do it all over again.

Wow. I feel better already.

OH, and if you live in the Northwest, preferably in the South Sound region (but hey if you want to fly in from the East more power to you), and want to see if I really can pull my head out of my ass and stay relatively upright on Sunday please come! I'll even give you a sweaty hug when it's all said and done. Plus, I know Adam is going to need someone to help him reattach all my limbs when this is all over.

 

Ashley, the Terrified Accidental Olympian

ONE OF THEM

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