My co-worker Megan has been recording our journey over on www.derbylife.com.
Today's article made me smile big, read it!
Roller derby is the first team sport I have ever really attempted to play. This is assuming we can skip over the kindergarten soccer experience that was characterized mostly by holding hands with my friends while lying down on the field. We're also skipping that time in the 3rd grade where it seemed logical that given my height I should at least try to play basketball. The sports I like are swimming, running and biking, and while they're often done with other people, the constant focus is on what you can do for yourself. I'm unaccustomed to thinking about what I can do athletically within a group.
To help me in this endeavor, I have the fortune of skating with two amazing, intelligent, independent women. For the moment, Abby, Riley, and I form our own little team of fresh meat. We all hail from small town America: Watertown, South Dakota, Soldotna, Alaska, and Kalispell, Montana, respectively. And in forming our own fresh meat support squad we've all developed specific roles.
Abby is the brains of the operation, the instigator of the entire derby adventure, and my heterosexual soulmate. She's read every book and watched every documentary. She made brightly colored flash cards of the rules, including pictures of the various ref hand signals, and put them into a derby-themed flashcard holder. Not sure which piece of equipment to buy next? Abby has a recommendation, or at least knows who to ask. Want to know the latest dish on who's playing and their strategy? Abby can point out what they're doing, why they're doing it and how to get around it. In addition to her vast knowledge of all things derby she's rapidly becoming a force to be reckoned with on her skates. If we end up playing on the same team I want her inseparably by my side. If not, she's the one on the track I'm going to have to learn to avoid.
Also, Abby is the one who decided that if we were going to miss our Saturday morning new skater practice with Jet City Basic Training in order to work overtime, we were going to skate in the office.
That's us with our bike/skateboard-riding COO balancing on our shoulders. Yup, that really happened.
Riley is our source of unabated energy. It's impossible to spend more than five minutes in the room with her without getting caught up in K-Pop, The Alien movies or.... whatever she's into RIGHT NOW. She is the only person I know who's capable of carving an accurate Terminator head into a pumpkin without any sort of stencil or reference photo. In derby, I like to think of her as the skate ninja. She's short and fast with undeniably great footwork. While the rest of us have to spend 20 minutes dicking around before learning any new move for the first time, Riley does it twice and immediately uses it to kick ass. I've seen her knock down a girl twice her size and we're just getting started.
I like to think that my contribution is one of persistence. I operate under the assumption that being great at roller derby isn't all that different than being great at anything else. While it's helpful to be smarter, stronger, and more talented than the people you're up against, I don't consider those things to be of the greatest importance. I have yet to encounter a time when intensive study didn't top intelligence, hard work didn't best another's strength, and relentless effort didn't outlast talent. I think of this every time I fall, every time I'm passed in a speed skate, and at the end of every day when I pull off those stinking skates to reveal my aching blistered feet.
We all know that friends are important. They help us stay honest, get us into and out of trouble and let us know in exactly the words we are willing to hear that yes, those jeans really do make us look fat. Back when I was marathon training the combination of sweat, pain and hundreds of hours pounding the pavement turned my two running buddies into my best friends. They were the ones that I stayed up with on Saturday night while drinking, smoking, and eating doughnuts. They were also the ones dragging my ass out of bed Sunday morning to go run 20 miles before it got too hot to bother.
- By : Megan Slater
The Pursuit of Derbyness: No Woman Is an Island
Roller derby is the first team sport I have ever really attempted to play. This is assuming we can skip over the kindergarten soccer experience that was characterized mostly by holding hands with my friends while lying down on the field. We're also skipping that time in the 3rd grade where it seemed logical that given my height I should at least try to play basketball. The sports I like are swimming, running and biking, and while they're often done with other people, the constant focus is on what you can do for yourself. I'm unaccustomed to thinking about what I can do athletically within a group.
To help me in this endeavor, I have the fortune of skating with two amazing, intelligent, independent women. For the moment, Abby, Riley, and I form our own little team of fresh meat. We all hail from small town America: Watertown, South Dakota, Soldotna, Alaska, and Kalispell, Montana, respectively. And in forming our own fresh meat support squad we've all developed specific roles.
Abby is the brains of the operation, the instigator of the entire derby adventure, and my heterosexual soulmate. She's read every book and watched every documentary. She made brightly colored flash cards of the rules, including pictures of the various ref hand signals, and put them into a derby-themed flashcard holder. Not sure which piece of equipment to buy next? Abby has a recommendation, or at least knows who to ask. Want to know the latest dish on who's playing and their strategy? Abby can point out what they're doing, why they're doing it and how to get around it. In addition to her vast knowledge of all things derby she's rapidly becoming a force to be reckoned with on her skates. If we end up playing on the same team I want her inseparably by my side. If not, she's the one on the track I'm going to have to learn to avoid.
Also, Abby is the one who decided that if we were going to miss our Saturday morning new skater practice with Jet City Basic Training in order to work overtime, we were going to skate in the office.
That's us with our bike/skateboard-riding COO balancing on our shoulders. Yup, that really happened.
Riley is our source of unabated energy. It's impossible to spend more than five minutes in the room with her without getting caught up in K-Pop, The Alien movies or.... whatever she's into RIGHT NOW. She is the only person I know who's capable of carving an accurate Terminator head into a pumpkin without any sort of stencil or reference photo. In derby, I like to think of her as the skate ninja. She's short and fast with undeniably great footwork. While the rest of us have to spend 20 minutes dicking around before learning any new move for the first time, Riley does it twice and immediately uses it to kick ass. I've seen her knock down a girl twice her size and we're just getting started.
I like to think that my contribution is one of persistence. I operate under the assumption that being great at roller derby isn't all that different than being great at anything else. While it's helpful to be smarter, stronger, and more talented than the people you're up against, I don't consider those things to be of the greatest importance. I have yet to encounter a time when intensive study didn't top intelligence, hard work didn't best another's strength, and relentless effort didn't outlast talent. I think of this every time I fall, every time I'm passed in a speed skate, and at the end of every day when I pull off those stinking skates to reveal my aching blistered feet.
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