First off, the Great Strides walk was, well, great! Our team raised over $600 in only about a month of fundraising and exceeded the goal of $500. It was my first experience as a team leader for the walk and I am so happy I know so many great people who wanted to participate. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Derby has not only given me a fun way to exercise, it's introduced me to a fantastic bunch of people I'm proud to know. (Tearing up a bit, hold on.... Ok.) Anyway, on to tonight's practice.
The next bout is on June 4, which means more scrimmages! Yeah! Well tonight I was really getting frustrated with myself the first couple of times I went out. I'm really trying to find my strengths and sometimes (like tonight) I feel like I just don't have any: I'm not fast enough to jam, I'm not dodgy enough to jam or really block quickly, and I'm not big enough to hit hard or block positionally by sheer size. So thinking along these lines tonight I was near tears.
Unless you break something, it's really not cool to burst out crying in roller derby! So I mentally slapped myself out of it and just decided to skate and try to make some hits--who cares if I bounce off?! At least I tried!
So I did make some contact. It wasn't spectacular and maybe nobody else even saw it, but I know I did it and that makes a difference to me.
I think my strength is going to be pure stubbornness. It's been cultivated all my life as a result of people expecting me to keel over and die. When you have a disease that's supposed to kill you before you're 18 you get a lot of that from doctors, nurses, teachers.
Thankfully my parents never treated me like I was about to die and fully encouraged and expected me to be a normal kid. (If they ever thought otherwise privately, they didn't tell me about it). So I guess I developed this "I'll show you" attitude. It's made me very contrary and stubborn. It's been a good thing and bad.
So I may not be an especially ferocious skater right now, but I can be ferociously stubborn. If roller derby were easy, everyone would do it. If it were easy, it wouldn't be as much fun. Sometimes it's really scary. But knowing you're scared to do something and doing it anyway--now that's Ferocious.
Hi ferocious, just came across your blog I'm also a CF girl on derby skates :) so great to hear you are doing well and kicking ass on the track! I totally know what you mean though by being frustrated when the lungs pack up and the jam is still on...I wanted to register my derby name as "Cystic Ferocious" (before reading your blog obviously I'm a mean skater but no thief hahah) but I think you've already done it? I was wondering if you'd mind if I also skated as Cystic Ferocious (with a different number) as you're US based and I'm UK based we're probably never gonna bout against each other(plus I'm not very likely to pass my endurance minimums so might just do NSO stuff), if we ever would I'd obviously drop to the initials...please let me know what you think :) my email is janka.penther@hotmail.com
ReplyDeleteThanks! Oh I used to have a blog from when I was travelling you can have a look if you're interested it's jankasjourney.blogspot.com
Cheers looking forward to your reply
Janka
Cystic (US, that is)-- You are right on about your parents expecting (hoping) you'd be a "normal kid." Your mom went that route herself, well before the days of any advances in CF treatment. When she was a kid, she ran track (not competitively, just to do it). Later in life, she played on a company softball team. She ran later, too... not on the track, but in life. She was determined to make her mark in the world, and she did a damn good job of it. Part of that was "running" alongside you, when your teachers and others tried to baby you, especially at CH Elementary, and most especially after your schoolmate with CF died. Mary A., principal at CH, was our great ally and intermediary with teachers both while you were at CH and later. She helped me get across to the guy who monitored attendance at the HS, and who threatened to report your absences to the juvenile court judge... I had quite a bit to say to him, and M.A. (who was by that time, as it turned out, his boss) apparently had words with him as well.
ReplyDeleteI know you felt I was a helicopter dad sometimes, especially when you were on crew and I followed your shell up the river. Trust me, I wasn't afraid you would not make it-- I was so damned proud of you and wanted to see you in your glory every time I could.
BTW-- don't know if you caught this in Janka's blog: "I finished school when I was 16, went to High school for one year in Tennesse,USA." Talk about weird parallels!
Love,
Dad