From the helmet of: Tesla
I've got to share something. I've been a little quiet, and I've been a little tired, but I'm beginning to feel a shift. I wanted to write about the importance of friendship, and the impact that derby relationships have had on me lately. Derby saves our souls, we say that all the time, but I'm beginning to realize that it isn't the sport or the self-challenge, or the growth even. Not all the time. Sometimes (a lot of the time) it's the people that facilitate the growth.
Derby brings all different kinds of people together, and everyone has something in them that can help someone else, even if both people don't know it. I've met some people that I have really disliked, but even they have taught me something. The girl that knocked me down over and over when I was brand new really got a lot of my ire for a while, but once I began to feel more comfortable on the track, I realized that I owed her a lot. She didn't go easy on me, and I needed it. It was tough derby love. Some of the girls I immediately disliked ended up being super toxic and awful, and they taught me the most, maybe. I learned how not to act. They taught me how not to handle criticism, defeat, and challenge. The ability to learn from other peoples' mistakes is a blessing.
Then there are the undercover angels, the ones that teach you compassion and drop little nuggets of wisdom, even if they don't mean to. The girl that always checks on me after I fall. The girl that always tells me how great I'm doing, especially when I'm really beat up. The girl that struggles in scrimmage but never, ever gives up. The girl that is always willing to try a new move, even if she might fall. You are my derby heroes and heroines. You make this sport the greatest in the world to me, and even if you never realize it, even if I never work up the courage to tell you, you've saved my soul.
I came home from a really rough pick-up game one night and ate myself sick. I felt I'd done so poorly in the scrimmage that I cried into a bag of potato chips. I don't even eat potato chips! I was a sad sight. I messaged Gravy and off-loaded all of my woes over the night's failures. She reminded me that I'd just played a game with men and women who had years and years of experience on me. She assured me that the only way to improve is to play up, and she said something that I've been holding in my mind ever since: "You're better now than you were before." Something clicked. I had this sudden realization that the MOMENT practice is done, I'm better than I was before it started. I may be beat down. I may be tired and sad. I may cry. Whatever I do or feel, I'm better than I was before.
Every time I feel down now I think about that and it motivates me. Every walk, jog, weight lifting session, yoga hour, or derby practice, I think about that. Every opportunity to skate, even if I know it will be really hard, I now take. I don't talk myself out of things the way I used to, and I accept the bad with the reward. Last Sunday I assessed up to the Advanced level of our rec league. I'm pretty sure I just barely made that cut, and I'm really ready for the challenges the next level will bring. One of the upper level skaters mentioned that the Rec A Team was holding tryouts, and that I should give it a go. Realistically, I have a ton of work ahead of me before I am at that level, but who the crap cares? What a good opportunity to get feedback on my weak points and skate with some higher level girls! Am I terrified? Yep. Have I been throwing up a little every time I think about it? Yep. It's tomorrow. I worked out super hard yesterday and my legs are destroyed. I have a lot of fear coursing through me right now (and advil), but I'm 100% pumped. Bring it on, A Team! Tesla's ready for her beat down.
Tesla and Gravy
Just two rollergirls trying to share the rollerlove from Austin, TX to the world.