I’ve never been a sporty person. Never. Fact. I have actively avoided, discouraged and trash talked physical activity since the age of 11, when in my first inter-form netball match at ‘big school’ I was made to play Goal Defense (a position I’d never played before that day) and Laura Jones told me, after we lost, “I aint bein’ ‘orrible or nuffink, but you were rubbish.� I never had the right trainers, the right P.E. kit or the right attitude. I was the chubby grunger, it was never going to work. So I skulked, smoked, skived and eventually found sympathy from a fellow chub - my form teacher - and head of drama - 40 a day smoker - Mrs C. Who covered up for my absenteeism and found me ‘jobs’ to do, around the drama department. I mostly just sat in a cupboard (props cupboard mind, there were armchairs & everything) and read.
I’ve tried many times to start some kind of healthy eating/exercise plan, but it never lasted. In fact I’ve never really stuck at anything, as far back as Brownies I lost interest pretty quickly and went back to reading and T.V. There was horse riding, step aerobics, trampoline club, hockey, swimming… I’m a quitter (except where smoking is concerned)
Fast forward to last autumn and I found out about this insane sport called Roller Derby. Initially through a Myspace friend - Shank Williams - formally of Inland Empire Derby Divas - more recently part of the splinter group - So Cal Rollers. Anyway - she posted something about picking a skate name - suddenly she was no longer Jen, she was Shank. I wanted to know more. I did a bit of research, this was a sport? on roller-skates? …interesting…. bigger girls play alongside itty bitty ones? amazing! They’re all super glamorous beautiful punk rock chicks with bad ass tattoos and they all know each other and I know no one… hmmm?
It took me two months of being on the London Roller Girls twice weekly training reminder email list before I worked up the courage to go along. My complicated long distance relationship seemed to be at an end and I needed to break out of my routine of wallowing and cake. I had anxiety dreams the week before my first practise, I didn’t know anyone, I wasn’t wearing the right clothes, all my teeth fell out - you know the kind of thing. So I went along, I fell over, I skated into walls to stop myself, I watched the fully fledged rollergirls smashing into each other. I grinned. I was hooked.
After my first Saturday training session I couldn’t walk properly until the Wednesday. It may not have been that hardcore compared to the sessions I’ve gotten used to since but it was the closest I’d come to breaking a sweat in … well, forever.
So I did my 5 months of blisters and callouses on starter skates 2 sizes too big for me (that’s how skate shops in this country recommend you to buy them) trying to keep up with the others on wheels that barely turned, getting down with basic skills while slowly building up fitness. And then, finally, I got my first pair of Derby worthy skates,(that’s a story in itself…one for another day perhaps) hand built in the USA, soft leather, - with arch supports! My inner couch potato shivered with disgust at how excited I was over sports equipment. But my Roller Derby alter ego could barely control herself!
I’ve now had my new skates, my super sexy Riedell 265s a month. We have built up a beautiful friendship, I have named them ‘the Skates of ultimate Destruction‘ now I just need to live up to their potential. I’ve been taking master classes in suicide stops and transitions from Bette Noir - Roller Queen extrordinaire - formerly of Angel City Derby Girls. Currently London Roller Girls in house expert. But I’m still not quite there, my brain wants to but my legs wont quite obey.
So I was thinking, if this were a movie, I would have gone from my chubby, sports hating, giving up, shy former self, discovered rollerderby, got my first pair of awesome skates and right about now I’d be in the middle of my montage, pounding the streets, lifting weights, falling down as I practised my suicide stops over and over on my own private, deserted rink (Hey, this is my movie, a girl can dream)…until…. duh daaaaah! I emerge, a beautiful, bout ready butterfly who can simultaneously woo the crowds (in my film our first bout would be at some amazing stadium with banked seating with thousands of people screaming our names) and knock some bitches down!
So, if anyone can fix it up for me…. I’m ready for my montage!
PS. About the scary, glamorous punk rock tattooed girls, they’re awesome! Although the ‘girl politics’ can get a bit much for someone like me who has no sisters and works in an almost exclusively male environment, the fun times out weigh the stress. As for the glamour, no one looks amazing after two hours of sweating under a helmet and as for taking out gum-shields covered in stringy spit…
Rose Hypnol
Posted in
~ You can follow any responses to this entry through the
RSS 2.0 feed.
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
Kitty DeCapitate
rose hypnol, you’re the best!!!! what a great blog!!!!