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In the month since my last post:
1. All but 1 of my friends from Flight School tried out for the League, and we were all accepted as New Chicks.
2. At tryouts, I was evaluated as “Track Ready” – which meant that my basic abilities are sufficient enough that I can skate with the big girls (as I call them). Not only do I have permission to attend Chicks practices with all my newbie friends, I also have permission to attend League practices and scrimmages. And it’s expected that I will.
3. I participated in my first scrimmage and, just as I expected, my anxiety went sky-high to the point that I practically dissolved into a drooling, blubbering idiot. I was NOT having fun, and I couldn’t hide it.
Did I join a roller derby league to have fun? Well, you may not believe me but…no. I didn’t. Not at all.
I knew it would be fun most of the time, sure – and it is. Totally exhilirating and life-changing, in fact. But the real reason why I chose to do it, the thing that is going to force me into my skates tonight for my second scrimmage even though I’m tempted to take my aching legs to the spa instead, is that I want to build character by facing something I fear.
Anyone who knows me knows that physically, I’m fairly tough. Anyone who knows me well also knows that psychologically, I am anxious.
Anxiety can be crippling, and I have the choice to either passively sit by and let it get me, or feel the fear and do it anyway. Roller derby is giving me a tremendous opportunity to scare myself shitless, challenge the fear, achieve some breakthroughs, and grow stronger.
What does it mean to feel high anxiety when I skate?
The first time I ever stepped up onto the banked track, my heart was racing, my breath was shallow, and my entire body was shaking so badly I almost fell over. Can you believe that? Just from stepping on the track!
The first time I scrimmaged, same thing: heart racing, shallow breathing, and shaking. The whole time. Plus, I couldn’t think. At all. And thinking is critical to this fast-paced, dangerous contact sport. If you can’t think, you can’t hit, you can’t juke, you can’t “fall small”, and you sure as hell can’t jam. Mae Lay - one of the founders of our League, a lovely skater and even more lovely person - sympathized with my “jamnesia”, assuring me that it’s normal and that I’ll probably have it for a while. I almost cried at one point from all the emotional stress.
So scrimmaging is where the real work lies for me – and it’s time to get organized. The experienced skaters in the league have all advised goal setting, and the articles I skimmed today on sport psychology recommend it as well…so here we go. I will choose 1 goal to focus on at each scrimmage from here on out, and will report back on how I do.
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Stay low.Got it. Moving on. -
Smile. No, seriously.
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Watch the jammer and tell everyone where she is.
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Watch my elbows and hands. I have a horrible knack for grabbing my friends in the most inappropriate places when I lose my balance and it’s embarrassing and rude, not to mention illegal, to be grabbing anybody. I don’t know what it is about Jarin’s boobs but my flailing hands ended up there no fewer than 3 times during the scrimmage. I felt awful – she was a champ about it.
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Give real hip checks, both up and down. This means getting my leg out in front of the girl I’m hitting, and keeping my arms out of the way when I hit.
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Evade/avoid hits, rather than standing there like a tree stump and taking them. I can take all the power out of a scary girl’s hit if I just move against it!
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Hit when I’m jamming, to get people out of my way. I’m treating the pack too much like a glade of trees that I’m skiing through – and the problem with that is that unlike trees, the girls move around in tight formations that have to be broken apart in order to pass.
Those 6 are all I can think of for now, and frankly I think that’s a fine place to start. So next time you see me, you can ask me: did you remember to SMILE at your second-ever scrimmage?
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