I haven't checked in with you on my new favorite thing in a little while. Sorry I left you hanging. Quick recap... I made the team. Go Reckless! And I think my team name and my teammates are exceptionally fannypacktastic (to refamiliarize you with the poetic license of Miss Noteworthy). Who wouldn't want to wear glitter gold as part of their team uniform? You know me--I love the sparkles.
My team may even be even the bomb diggity (Oh my word. Did I really type that and leave it for people to actually view with their eyes? Yes. I did it. The malfunctions of last night have overflowed onto the fresh new day. Dang...).
I love derby practice and count down the days and minutes until it arrives. However...
...last night's derby practice brought a strong dose of reality. In the form of a deep muscle bruise. On the inside business edge of my left buttock.
Which leaves me wincing every time I sit, stand, shift, bend, or generally let my heart beat. I keep telling my brain stem to shut down my heart, but it won't listen to me. Drat!
It gets worse.
Since the swelling is protruding into my butt cleavage, it continually makes me feel like I need to go "powder my nose" (ummm... who do you think you are fooling, proper ladies? such a ridiculous expression). But when I get in there, I realize my "nose" is just fine. TMI for some of you (and I have one particular face in mind right now....), I am sure.
Let me tell you, there is nothing quite like continuously massaging your left butt cheek in a roomful of people. And not even caring. Because your butt is having a seizure all of its own, and it really MUST be stopped. Rub, rub. rub. "Oh hi, so-and-so's husband, Don't mind me, I'm having butt problems." Rub, rub, rub. Knead, knead, knead.
Additionally, I felt like a complete roller spaz last night. First, my wheels felt slick, so I felt like I was fighting to stay upright ALL. NIGHT. LONG. I felt like I resembled Bambi when he stepped out on the ice with Thumper. And Thumper laughed uproariously in Bambi's face. Not my favorite.
Next, halfway through a drill where we voluntarily flung ourselves to the ground, I looked at my hands and noticed I was NOT wearing my wrist guards. Uh... hello. One of my best friends on the planet broke both bones in her right arm while skating, and I even wear my wrist guards when I session skate. Wrist guards are essential for safety. Where was my brain? It must be with that coral tank top I can't find. Completely MIA.
I skated off the floor and fetched my guards post haste. And was thankful that I had not broken a bone in the first part of practice.
I returned just in time for the next round of the body flinging exercise. And when I threw myself to the ground and rolled over, my toe stop came off. And that makes me panic a LITTLE because now I have lost both my brain and my toe stop. And if you can't find your brain, you have great difficulty screwing your toe stop back in.
I hate my left toe stop. I must rely on it heavily, or it wouldn't keep coming out. After last night, we are no longer on speaking terms. I feel a strong need to end that relationship. "You know, I can't trust you to be there when I need you, so I'm going to have to replace you...."
I stood there expecting my bra strap to break or my pants to spilt right up the middle because that's what kind of a night it was. And I'm not really a Janet Jackson Halftime Spectacle kind of girl.
During scrimmage time (when my gluteal injury occurred), all the rules of the game that I had just read were rolling around in my head. Every time I read them, a little more sticks, but, honestly, I'm on a little bit of information overload right now. I'm trying to keep all the rules straight in my brain. And, you know, I tend to be a strict adherer to the rules in *most* areas of my life. So, when I break a rule or think I have, I will do what I can to correct myself or the situation. It's an almost automatic response.
Except, when a derby player *thinks* she has stepped out on the inside edge and removes herself from play in the middle of a jam to *correct* her actions, it *might* let the opposing jammer score unnecessary points. And it did. And the ref looked at me like I was nuts because she knew I had not even stepped outside the line.
There was video of the whole scrimmage. Awesome.
When I got bumped, I apparently DANGLED my skate over the line. Which you can do all day long if you want. And when I put the dangling skate back on the ground, I crossed over my right skate. So, I was fine the whole time.
And there were no whistles blown, so I don't know why I removed myself from play. A normal person would just keep skating if they didn't hear the whistle. I guess the drills to teach us to not cut the track sunk in a little too deep.
I tend to be an overthinker and overanalyzer, so all the things the trainers and coaches have said are in my head swirling around simultaneously. And they keep coming out in the weirdest ways...
At least I knew the reason why you need to skate fast to the penalty box (because your time in the box doesn't start until you get in the box)... That's one point for me for the night. And eighty-nine for the rink. It was almost a shutout.
Body, equipment, brain... Apparently, it was a night for all-around Reckless malfunction.
P.S. I'm not giving up. We all have off days. I'm sure next practice will be better. It couldn't get much worse...
P.P.S. Yes, I know I'm a little whiny. Sue me. I'll win. My lawyer is amazing.
P.P.S.S. Favorite derby quotes from last week and this week...
"I think I hurt my labia."
"I smell like Fritos." "Yeah, you do."
"Not bad for a hoochie." And yes, I was the hoochie.
P.P.P...oh, screw the post-script nonsense, I still love derby and can't wait for the next practice. I hope I can walk by then...