It’s been a little under a year since I tendered my resignation from the Denver Roller Dolls and became a retired member. I had a nice year of laziness combined with the realization that I had actually jacked up my shoulder, but never noticed because of the muscle surrounding the joint (see derby girls, there is a reason we do all those push ups!) and once it started to atrophy, I started to hurt. So, I took some time off “to heal.”
Well, the rage is back. The rage that I used to take out while skating and not on my coworkers, family or friends is back. I find myself wanting to punch things with a lot more frequency than I used to. I find that I use the phrase “giving out dick punches” about double the amount that I used to. I feel like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde sometimes. Well, Ms. Hyde.
So, I decided I needed to pick up another sport. I’m not ready to do derby again, and I don’t know if I ever will be (even though I’ll always love it). So I went through the list.
• Softball: It’s cold out and that ball is too big for me to catch (that’s what SHE said!).
• Basketball: Ha! Really? No. I tried and failed miserably in high school. Also, ball is too big for my hands.
• Volley ball: Last time I played this, I broke my finger. I am now petrified of the ball.
• Football: Could be, but my hands…. Also, the lower leagues don’t let you tackle and that’s the fun part.
• Running: Running to where? Where am I going? Oh, just around? Lame. Also, my knees sound like this when I run: right leg: “FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU.” left leg: “FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUU.”
• Tennis: Balls AND Running? Fuck off.
Alright, so I needed a sport that is fairly low impact on the knees and does not have a ball. I want it to be aggressive. Where I might get to hit someone. Where I have to push myself. The obvious answer: HOCKEY!
I enrolled in a beginning ice skating class and had my first one this last Saturday. If I’m going to do hockey, I’m going to do it right. I’m going to learn how to ice skate, then how to ice skate for hockey. The goal is to be good enough by the fall so that I can skate with the boyfriend on his league. How fucking adorable is that shit?
I went to my first class, and I was not as awful as I thought I would be. I will chalk that up to three years of experience roller skating. The whole push and glide thing I think I’ve got down pretty well. It impressed my instructor at least. Won’t she be in for a surprise when she attempts to teach me how to skate backwards? I’ll go from head of the class to dunce in one lesson.
Speaking of dunce, I, um, didn’t realize that they had a class just next to the adult class for folks in the Special Olympics. I did notice the people I was speaking with seemed to be, well, slow, but I just figured that’s why they were in the adult skating class. But no. It turns out, they were there to work on being in the Special Olympics. And I was in their class for 5 minutes before realizing that I was the only person who was not mentally handicapped. In fact, I got kicked out of the class before I realized exactly what it was. Yeah. That’s right. I joined an ice skating class for the mentally handicapped and was such a retard that I had to be told to leave before I even knew there was something different about the class.
All dumbassery aside, I had a wonderful time skating. It felt great to be moving again and I had to work really hard not to go the speed I really wanted to go since I don’t quite have the agility I used to have on a derby track. But I am excited to keep learning the basics of ice skating and hopefully by fall I’ll be ready to add padding, a helmet, speed and a stick to the equation.
Oh, and a puck. It’s not a ball!
Unrelated Note: I’ve been making some changes to the blog (OK, boyfriend made them, but I told him what I wanted) and now you can subscribe to the blog via RSS Feed or Email. Now you won’t have to check this page neurotically six times a day to see if I’ve posted. Come on. I know you do. Anyway, there’s that.