MY PATH TO WFTDA

This post comes to you from:
MINI-SOTA POP 

The blue helmet. Oh pretty blue helmet, I will wear you again once I pass the WFDTA test…I bought the blue helmet when I first started derby. After my injury I believed I needed to work harder to deserve it. You think the test is like any other test you will take in your lifetime but its not.

This is my journey through roller derby up until now…I, like everybody, had the infatuation with roller derby after seeing a couple of L.A. Derby Doll matches. Saying to my self, “can I do this?” or “would I be able to do this? These were just a few of the things that went through my mind…after much encouragement and mutual commitment, Fishblocker and I started attending practices.

The phases I have experienced this first year of my training:

• Infatuation
• New discoveries
• Scared SHITLESS
• Unsure
• Committed
• Minor injury – kept me off skates for 2 months
• Unsure again
• Still scared but not shitless
• Recommitted
• Stronger and Focused
• Continued confidence building to be a part of the team

I have come to the conclusion that passing the WFTDA skills test is a commitment you make to yourself and your team. You are committing to be the best and safest you can be. Always giving 150% even if you feel you can’t. I took the test on June 24th, 2012 and knew I wasn’t ready but I took it anyway to see how far I had come after these few months, not to mention coming back from my ankle injury from April.

Result:

• I failed the 25 in 5 by 4 laps (21) and my 5 in 1 was 4.75
• My skating stance was wrong
• My balance was very unstable
• My confidence was nowhere to be found
•  I was essentially a stick figure on roller skates (Killo kept telling me to relax and to keep moving my feet!)

After the test I felt like a big fat failure and went through every emotion possible. After coming to the realization of what the test actually is it made me rethink things. You get the same jitters and anxieties about it like any other test you take. But don’t let these feelings overtake you. Once the confidence is there, the speed, balance, stability and most of all being safe, things start to click. But this will only happen just as Coach Dad and Killo preach to my teammates, “You have to WANT it”, “You have to work HARD to get it” and “KEEP MOVING YOUR FEET!”
I came to the conclusion that I DO want this!
Not to mention I got the tattoo to prove it!

So when it was announced that we were going to have the next WFTDA test at the end of September, I made a commitment to myself and my team. I dubbed September as “Skate On September” (well after Labor Day of course). This meant I put my skates on EVERYDAY in September no matter what (not including practices)! I created a calendar for every day of the week of the WFTDA skills I was going to work on. I committed to hitting that 5 mile mark in 30 minutes. I committed to extra skating activities outside of our normal practice schedule in the evenings and on weekends. But most of all I committed to skating every day during my lunch hour at work. I have been blessed with a job that has a building with an underground parking garage that is as smooth as a baby’s bottom. At first I was unsure of skating down there but once I kept it going it became a great habit. I’m thinking I would miss skating everyday at lunch after my challenge has ended (maybe I won’t stop). I also have to make mention that I had so many people (even people I don’t work with) come up to me and ask me about roller derby since they see me skate every day (well except the two people that almost hit me with their cars, thank God for juking!).

I feel that I want to pass the test this time around and finally earn a place on our team because I feel I am ready.

So did I pass??? Do I get to wear the blue helmet again??
To quote Coach Dad that night, “You earned it”.

JOINING THE PACK: THE STORY OF A FORMER LONE WOLF

This post comes to you from:
Roll N Rawkher

I am an introvert by nature, comforted by solitude, perfectly content to go to a movie on my own or spend the weekend alone with a book. I never had any sense of family or interdependence. Growing up, my parents, brother, and I spent most of our time in separate rooms: me in a locked bedroom, my mother in the kitchen, my father in the living room, and my brother running around with his friends. We neither ate meals together nor took trips together. I learned to be independent and self-reliant to a fault.

Despite my propensity for self-reliance, I had always wanted a family. When I was 7, I formed a neighborhood club called the Rad Rockers. In high school, I formed bands and sincerely believed that my 3-member grrl band would tour the country in my Chrysler minivan, playing indie record stores and dive clubs and being sofuckingpunk. Well, that didn’t quite pan out. After my last band fell apart, I gave up trying to find or build a family. What did I do instead? I took up distance running and I loved it. It suited my introversion and inclination for self-sufficiency and ego-centrism. I trained almost exclusively alone, began races alone, ran them alone, and crossed finished lines alone. I competed only with myself and was accountable only to the nagging personal trainer that existed in my head.

When I decided to go to my first derby practice, I imagined it would be like in the movies. We would all shoot the shit, come up with cool derby names, and maybe we would then raise a little hell at a bar afterwards.

But, wait. These chicks were serious about the game. And they expected me to be serious about the game, too.

For the first month, the only thought in my head was: I HAVE NO FUCKING CLUE WHAT IS HAPPENING! I’M GOING TO BREAK AN ANKLE DOING THIS CRAZY SHIT! But I also could not stop thinking about derby all day, every day. I was enthralled by the sport. I wanted to sit in front of the SFVRD Facebook group page all day (which I … did…and maybe still do…) and read all the articles and posts about wheels and hits and rules.

Also, during the first few months, I assumed I would have a natural talent at the game since I am an athlete and run marathons and work out five times a week and shit. Yeah, turns out that running by yourself for hours every week doesn’t exactly make you a good roller derby player – or even a good skater. Huh? What? Who knew? I realized that I kept trying to play as though I was on the track by myself! Then, during one important practice, a trainer came up to me (realizing I had no idea what to do on the track) and said “When in doubt, find a buddy and GET TO THE FRONT! Don’t be a lone wolf, Rawk!”

I repeated that mantra in my head during the next couple of scrimmages and felt a little less lost and little more part of the game each time. Then, I started realizing how my reclusive lifestyle had been limiting my success in other ways – like in my career and (obviously) my social life. I am slowly learning that it is ok to ask for help, to admit that I don’t know something, and that, lo and behold, people want to help. I just have to ask for it. Being part of something, contributing to a shared goal, thinking of myself as part of a group rather than a perpetually separate entity are all new and somewhat scary experiences.

But that is also how I know this is good and that I am growing as a person and, yes, as a derby player. And, you know, all those hours spent by myself weren’t really much fun in comparison.