Concussion, Chrissie Hynde and First Ice Cream

I got hurt Saturday morning at practice. I'm sort of embarrassed and in a twisted way disappointed to have no exciting story of receiving a mega body check from an Amazonian blocker, getting lifted off my feet and thrown to the ground, smacking my head and getting a minor concussion. Nope. I fell during the friggin' warm up, before I even had a chance to scrimmage.

I was going around the corner in a spread eagle type dealio, with my feet wide to the sides. Another skater zigged and I zagged and I tumbled in slow motion, feet up and landing on my butt and back, catching myself a bit with my arms but also punctuating the whole display with a huge whack of the back of my helmet as it hit the ground. I saw stars for a second. I sat there for a minute to recover. Then I started making jokes, got up and continued the warm up, even though things were a bit blurry, my legs felt shaky and I felt a bit nauseous. Did I mention I am a very stupidly stubborn person?

Being that stubborn-to-a-flaw girl, I proceeded with getting equipment check for the scrimmage, the whole time feeling woozy and not on my legs. Sort of floating through the motions. Then I (inexcusably, ridiculously, stupidly) decided to try to participate in a jam and see how I felt.

Wow. The whole two minutes it was as if I was moving in super slow motion. Other skaters were swerving in front of and behind me and all the motion was making me extremely nauseous and dizzy. It was seriously all I could focus on to stand up. As I sit and write this now I am ashamed of my stupidity, how insanely dangerous what I did was not only for me but my fellow skaters.

Yesterday I woke up with incredible soreness in my jaw, neck, shoulders, back, and in my sides when I took a deep breath. I gave in, went to the doctor, and got checked. He confirmed a minor concussion, and a ton of muscle strain as a result of what I had probably tensed to protect myself as I headed for the floor. Amazing how our bodies work, the way we are programmed to protect ourselves. There's the Alexander teacher in me talking. The mom is harshly scolding herself for her bullheadedness and stupidity, and the derby girl in training is wildly annoyed she missed a chance to scrimmage, especially since I just put on my swanky new toe guards and have my first bout in May. The doctor told me to give myself at the very least 72 hours to rest, not do anything too straining, and not to skate.

So let me tell you about a 45 minute window of my morning of not doing anything too straining.....

It's lunch time. I'm getting the kid's food ready. Aldo is in his chair, eating his yogurt. Because Oona was born with a fire under her butt she is unable to sit in her highchair for long periods of time (which for her equates to more than 10 minutes) without completely going bonkers. She also has a strange aversion to actually eating in her chair. Despising any compromise to her mobility and freedom (see bull headed, overly energetic, and excitable mother) we allow her to wander and sort of prime her pump with a part of her dinner until Aldo has eaten a bit and sometimes us too, otherwise we are regaled by earsplitting screeches, groans, tears and protests reminiscent of Gollum with the elven rope as we attempt to shovel our food in.

Today the little hellion was attempting to push her brother's high chair (with him in it) around the kitchen. She actually succeeded a few times, and I caught myself slack jawed and marveling at her super strength before I reminded myself that I needed to reprimand her.

I turned around for one second to flip the quesadilla I was making and she somehow managed to pull his tray, complete with food off his chair. There was a full bowl of yogurt and some veggie chips all over the floor. The girl had suddenly found her appetite and was slipping on the yogurt, proceeding to eat it and the chips. Our ancient cat walked through the yogurt and actually slipped. Now I had to not only clean up the girl and the floor, fish the yogurty floor chips out of her vice-like grip, but follow the yogurt footprints and wipe the cat down.

The boy is saying "It's ok Oona, it's ok. I was done" and singing "she's special....soooo special...gotta have some of your attention! Give it to me!!" In the chaos of the great yogurt slick clean up I manage to hear the radio and sure enough, "Brass in Pocket" by the Pretenders is playing.

Did I mention Aldo named his sister's stuffed bunny Chrissie Hynde? He also recently named her bear Morrissey, one of his bears Herzog, his stuffed rabbit Dave Brubeck, his monkey Bono and renamed his stuffed narwhal The Edge. I also should mention that once I caught my little Costanza eating the same food she had rejected in her chair out of the garbage can.

Somehow I manage to get this all cleaned up and they are both secure in their chairs. Aldo is finishing up with a bunch of fruit and some teddy grahams. He is pretending the bears are falling down and slipping "like mommy does at roller skating and like Oona when she is is danger because the floor is very wet with yogurt. Mommy should put a wet floor sign down so Oona doesn't fall." He's stacking the bears up, like in the photo. Calling them "bear devils." Then he starts to snuggle a teddy graham under his arm, like the picture on the box. He's saying "I looove you bear. You are my friend. I am protecting you like in the picture on the box. I am protecting you because you are soooo crunchy and delicious." And then into his mouth goes the bear he was taking such good care of under his arm.

All this in less than 45 minutes.

It's Calgon moments like this that I work to remind myself of the less chaotic, heart melting, tear producing moments of sweetness.  The moments I say, "Now THAT'S why I had kids." My husband, a little less poetic than me but sharing my tears describes them as "moments that melt your heart right out your asshole."

So far to date one of the greatest moments of parenthood for me is witnessing my kids' first ice cream. Both of their first tastes, the first time it touched their mouths are very similar. They got this slightly surprised, puzzled look on their faces. Then after they swallowed, their eyes lit up and they started giggling, a smile crossing their entire face.

I think about what they must feel when their faces light up like that. The utter joy and wonder they must be experiencing and it makes me incredibly happy. I know my face does this sometimes when I look at them. I know it also does it when I am skating super fast, crossing over, and feeling good, or executing a perfect tomahawk as I power through my favorite suicide drill.

Since her chin split and trip to emergency Oona has been extremely shy and clingy when confronted with strangers. Friday night we took the kids with us to a bowling party for derby. She was glued to me for the better part of the time we were there, face buried in my chest. And Aldo was giving my poor hubster a real time of it, attempting to run away from him, slide down the lanes and examine all the brightly colored bowling balls. Although we couldn't let this happen, I completely understand. I am crazy about bowling, have dreamt of sliding down those shiny slick lanes myself on many occasions. And the variety of colorful balls is amazing.

Right at our breaking point, Alan had the brilliant idea of sitting him at the lunch counter and ordering a milkshake. They brought it back to me and the girl, still clinging like velcro-baby to me. Aldo kept insisting that she try it. She eventually did, that smile crossed her face and suddenly my shy, clingy baby returned to her usual firecracker state, swatting the straw out of my mouth as I attempted to have a sip of shake, and shoving it into her own, taking long, deep determined swigs.

And this happened in the midst of a bowling alley, surrounded by extraordinary derby women. Couldn't have been a more perfect first ice cream moment.

Wow has it been almost a month???

It's certainly been an action-packed month for me. A lot of firsts, a ton of new, exciting, and at times mildly frightening experiences. Lots of learning.

My first news to report is that I submitted my name for the league draft to potentially be picked up from the rookie team to an actual home team. To my surprise, I am a new member of the Damagin Dames, whose color is purple. Anyone who knows me understands my affinity for that color, so needless to say I am totally hooked up in the team spirit clothing department. To my dismay, I also had to get a photo taken and write a short bio for the TCDG website. Check it out! I hope I didn't go a bit overboard with the jaunty crossed arms and eyebrow raise in the photo. I was trying to visualize myself after a season of working hard, training and scrimmages, attempting to pose for the skater I aspire to be.

I also went to my very first bout last weekend, which was extraordinary. Both the TCDG A and B teams are like superheroes to me. They are FREAKING AMAZING. Teamwork, teamwork, communication, strategy and skills!!! If I turn out half as good as these girls I will be thrilled beyond my wildest dreams. Seriously, it's something to aspire to. To witness the blockers working together, having such 360 degree awareness of the entire pack and both jammers,simultaneously defensively and offensively blocking was fantastic. I loved the whole experience, from beginning to end. And the jammers. Wow. I don't know where to begin with my level of just utter, gushing awe.  I haven't been this into a sport since the entire 2006 baseball season ending in my heartbreak at the National League Championship between the Cardinals and my Mets. Just look at this catch by Chavez. Outstanding.

I have been scrimmaging for 2 weeks now, and it would be accurate to describe me as on my ass or in the penalty box much more than any time spent actually skating and in the game. The majority of the rest of the time I spend shuddering in my skates, breathing shakily and in a haze of confusion and fear.

Goals I have set for myself: crossovers with my left leg when skating clockwise, or reverse derby direction. My observations about this are that I seem to be reasonably proficient at this skill if I am the only person skating. Once the whole league is on the track a strange phenomenon occurs. It's as if I've never balanced just on my right leg and my left leg has a large weight lashed to it, preventing me from lifting it to perform a cross over. The Alexander Technique teacher in me is fascinated with how strong an interference my brain can provide to efficient functioning. The derby girl is annoyed and frustrated with my one-sided and very stubborn muscle memory convincing me that non-dominant leg crossovers are an impossibility.

Besides being an ambi-cross-overer another goal is running on my toe stops. I want to achieve a more explosive start. I have no problem picking up speed once I'm going, but I would really like to be able to start with more power as well. Again, I believe my thinking is the interference here. I can do quick footwork drills side to side, front and back on my toe stops. Given, I am a total wackadoo, but doing burpees, hopping up and then down into a push up on them is one of the most fun things I can think of. But my thinking warns me that taking off running on them at the start of a jam or drill is insane, that I will more than likely break both of my ankles, collapse in a pitiful, twisted heap and be run over by everyone. I really need to have a heart to heart with my thinking and somehow get over this.

Wednesday night we did my newest all-time favorite drill: working on plow stops, with someone pushing you from behind as you skate and also as you execute the stop. This is the first time the plow stop really started to make sense to me physically. Because it's impossible for me to look at movement from a non-Alexander perspective this was a genius piece of coaching to impose the extra momentum and weight on us as we practiced the stop. For me it really turned the volume up on the muscular organization and directions required to effectively do the stop.

What I discovered was the deeper you bend, crease in your hips, stick your butt out, the more weight you can direct down into your wheels and the floor as you angle your toes in the easier it got. Being the pusher, you feel way more resistance as the person in front exaggerates all these details in the stop. And as the pushee, you can feel the targeted parts of your legs kick in more clearly with someone pushing you as you stop.

The exaggeration of muscular work needed with the partner pushing you really helped me make a lot more sense of the plow stop. I learned that if I tuck my butt even slightly and as a result shorten my lumbar curve it makes it harder and a little painful in my hips to stop, especially with the added momentum/weight of the person behind you. Your lower back starts to take the brunt of the work that your legs should be doing and I imagine long term plow stopping like that would eventually cause some pain there. I found it helpful to think about all six leg joints bending deeply in the stop, lengthening along the backs of my legs and letting my sitbones aim back on a diagonal rather than straight down at the floor.

The Alexander teacher in me has also been pondering derby position. In Alexander speak, it is pretty much the same thing as "monkey," what we refer to as the "position of mechanical advantage." It's not a fixed position but a place where the most optimal counterbalances of our bones and muscles occur.

Our spine has the ability to lengthen through our movement if we utilize monkey. A lengthened spine with its inherent spring-loaded action can provide us with balance, power, stability, and recovery. Derby is all about stimulus and response. Our balance of muscle to bone is constantly renegotiated in response to the multitudes of different stimuli that occur as we skate. We can never be fixed in one place in our organization. We need speed, agility, power to body check someone, adaptability and balance to counter a block or recover from the ground as we are repeatedly knocked to it.

The minute you tuck your butt as you skate it shortens your spine, compromising not only your lumbar but also cervical and thoracic curves. It severely limits your movement potential. A compressed spine also really limits the availability we have in all of our leg joints. Myself included, I see a lot of people stand up out of prolonged skating in derby stance and put hands on their lower backs, twisting or bending back a bit to relieve achiness in their lumbar region. There's a strong partnership between legs and back in skating, and I think when our backs are hurting we also need to consider our legs and what we are doing with them and the muscles surrounding the ankles, knees and hips. I think about this partnership a lot, how my legs influence my spine and back and vice versa.

Speaking of partnership, I believe the kiddos are plotting against me. Aldo showed me this photo from "One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish" the other day at naptime. He pointed to the yellow fish falling backwards and told me (in an eerily calm, quiet and sweet voice) that was me. Ever curious, I inquired who the other two were. He told me the red one was Daddy and that he was "the little happy smiling blue one."

My daughter Oona, has a habit of staring deadpan (and with what I would consider extremely intense eye contact for a one and a half year old) at you when you are telling her no. Then she blantantly continues whatever it was she was doing that had caused you to tell her no in the first place. This staring contest is often times punctuated with cackles of laughter erupting out of her as she maintains eye contact and continues to do whatever it was she was doing. Aldo used to do something similar when I told him no. He would pull his shirt up, show me his belly and stare blankly at me.

This week she pulled down the curtain sheers on one of the windows. I'm guessing this could perhaps be my fault in part because I chose to show them "Singin in the Rain" and they were transfixed by "Moses Supposes." She was laughing wildly at me as I told her no strongly, struggling to wrestle the metal curtain rod out of her vice-like grip and rehang it in the window. With military precision and faster than I could blink the two of them then worked as a team to take down the sheers in two other windows. It's the beginning of a beautiful partnership, similar to that of Gene Kelly and Donald O'Connor as they terrorize their poor diction coach and dance their way through that scene. Many days it seems I am playing the part of that guy.