Wheels. On my feet. {part two}

This morning, when I finally dragged myself out of bed and the shower, I threw on a headband to keep the wet hair out of my face so I could put on my make up, and then pulled the rest into a low bun to keep it off my neck.

I ended up leaving my hair that way for the whole day. Such are my Tuesday mornings nowadays.

It's closing on 6pm, and I've been in my pajamas for the better part of an hour. Such are my Tuesday evenings as of late. {I'm estimating an 8:02pm bedtime this evening}

I have derby practices on Monday nights, from 7:00ish to 9:30ish (meaning 10).  I just stopped calling them 'lessons' in the last few weeks. I'm finally at a point where I feel like my body knows what to do. It doesn't know how to do it very well, but it does know how to do it. I come home beat up, torn up, barely able to feel my toes, and exhausted. And exhilarated.

I've been watching my friend Reckless 'do derby' for a few years now. I've always admired the fact that she wanted to do something and then worked hard and did it. It was awesome, but I never had derby dreams. I love love loved going to bouts, and watching the women bout, but I never thought that it was for me.

And then, Reckless said I should try it. And I said 'sure, maybe someday'. And then she said it again. And I think it was even a third time. All three times I let it rest.

And then, one day, I decided to try.

I gently asked Reckless to remind me what I would do if I wanted to skate.

And then I showed up.

She got me sorted out, and took a picture of me with wheels on my feet. And then, since she's the captain, and the boss of all the people there, so she had to go and take care of bidness.

So, I was on my own. I'm pretty sure she knew it was what I needed.

About halfway through what I called "lessons" back then, I fell down. Hard. Actually, make that HARD. 

Later on, Reckless told me she saw me go down, and immediately looked away. That's friendship, y'all.

This was back in February, which though barely three months ago, seems like an eternity.

The first practice was hard, but I lived through it, though dripping in sweat. Reckless asked me how it was going, and I said I hated it. I would come back, but I hated it. It was something I wasn't good at, and I don't usually do things I'm not at least moderately good at.

I knew that it was going to be hard, like I know the summers in Texas are going to be hot. It's not until the temperature spikes at 104 that you realize how hot it is, and not until your back is literally giving out on you that you realize that hard doesn't even begin to describe getting back on skates after a 20+ year hiatus.

The second practice was not much better.

Reckless was right. It does get easier.

I'm still sore leaving, but it's a good kind of sore.

I'm still getting home late, drenched in sweat, not getting to sleep until after 11pm, and sleeping horribly.

Tuesdays still kick my arse.

But in a good way.

My friends that I tell about derby ask to come to my first bout, I think mostly to see the hot mess that is me on skates.

I tell them to clear their calendar for sometime in 2016.

I'm not ready to bout, and I won't be for some long time.

But this league's motto is "Remember Where You Started", and so for now, as long as I'm better than I was when I started, I'll keep going.

My practices have been on again/off again in May, and I think this weekend I'm going to try Saturday practice again. The first time was a disaster, but if all goes well this week, I'll bump up to two-a-week.

We'll see.