Sunday, June 24, 2012

High Fives

We lived in New York for about 12 years. Our time there was bursting with unique, often times utterly amazing experiences. Things I will remember forever, stories I will tell my kids about.

I've seen a group of guys come onto my subway car, push the button on their boombox, perform gravity defying parkour moves off the seats, poles and walls of the car then finish with a total of 20 consecutive back flips in place, while the train was moving.

I've heard a capella groups sing on the trains and subway platforms that have made my jaw drop. Seen a blind dude with a cane and an accordion swing the doors open on the train at the exact moment the lights on the train went out, mutter "Goood evening ladies and gentlemen" and begin hammering out the theme from "The Godfather." Eaten ridiculous amounts of fabulous food that I still crave years later.

I've also witnessed a guy on the subway realize his wallet was stolen, stand blocking the one working door during rush hour and refuse to move until whoever boosted it gave it back. Jawdroppingly, it  was passed over the heads of the insanely crowded train and returned to him.

I spent the majority of my time there either bartending or waiting tables to put myself through Alexander training and I also had a home furnishings business to balance my teaching income after I graduated. I've made seat cushions for a Ghostbuster's kitchen, taught Alexander Technique to a runway model, waited on Sidney Poitier, Stevie Wonder, Peter Jennings, Pierce Brosnan, Dolce and Gabbana, Kevin Bacon, Nathan Lane, Matt Damon many times as he was just finishing up "Good Will Hunting" and still unknown, Salman Rushdie, an inebriated Rod Stewart, Larry David and the entire cast of Seinfeld, spilled wine on Rosie Perez, and quite surreally seen both Sir Ian McKellan and Cate Blanchett walk past my house.

All of these experiences make excellent stories, but by far the absolute best part of living in New York is the day of the Marathon. Unequivocally the most fabulous day of the year. In my old Brooklyn neighborhood, Fort Greene, people filled the sidewalks shoulder to shoulder, several bodies deep. The guy who lived in the brownstone across the street from the bar I worked at would have these giant speakers on his steps and a microphone in hand, bellowing encouraging words to the runners and leading the crowd in cheers. He would be blasting C&C Music Factory, the Village People, Michael Jackson and every other up tempo 80's dance music you could think of. It was breathtaking, the sense of community and good will in that neighborhood, and all across the city each Marathon day.

It was extraordinary to see the world class runners in the first pack pass by in the blink of an eye. But even better was witnessing the other runners following that pack. The people from every country you could think of. The office workers. The moms. The everyday people with their names on their shirts passing by in an endless sea of feet and legs, collectively pounding those streets I walked every day. Bystanders reading some random stranger's name off their shirt, cheering for them as if they were a long lost friend, jumping over the police barrier into the street and offering a hand for a high five. People walking around handing out doughnuts to the crowd, water and Gatorade to the runners. Each year Alan and I would stand there, participate in cheering runners on and I would inevitably cry. I was always so incredibly moved by the goodness of the day. It gives me shivers as I sit and write this, the memories of the energy of that day.

I always wondered what that must be like, to be on the receiving end of those cheers and high fives from complete strangers. I guessed it must be pretty energizing from seeing the smiles cross the faces of the more exhausted looking runners, seeming to be lifted up and carried a few blocks by the energy in Fort Greene as they ran through.

The past two bouts I've been in I have gotten my own little piece of that marathon day magic, and I tell you, it's completely awesome. For those of you who haven't been, at the beginning of every bout the teams line up, each skater is announced and takes a lap around the track. Tons of people and kids line up and stick their hands out for high fives as you skate by. As you whiz around you are greeted by a wall of goodness, hands and smiles. Totally, totally fun, as amazing and energizing as I had imagined.

The morning after the bout my husband greeted me with a hot, strong, fresh latte. The wee ones were running around my kitchen in a derby direction line, laughing their little asses off, proclaiming themselves "roller derby teammates working together" and shouting out in very deep voices, "Numberrrr 40eeeee!! Maraud Lebowskiiiii!!!" Then they would stop very abruptly, raise up their heels and stand on tippy toe in some crazy jazz dance or kung fu stance, shouting "Tomahawk stop!!! Yeah!" Then begin chasing each other all over again.

After practice Wednesday night I had to stop at the grocery. It was 10:30 and I was sort of self conscious of the hot pink tights/striped orange and hot pink socks/deep purple Converse the boy had selected for me to wear to practice. Have I mentioned he is my dresser, the Jerome to my Morris Day, and selects my derby wear for each practice? On top of this get up I am completely drenched and still sweating, probably looking a bit bizarro and no doubt incredibly stinky to the average, non-derby bystander. I'm in line and I hear this huge guffaw from the guy who just got in line behind me. I remember the glimpse I had caught of him as I was getting my six pack and he was loading an enormous case of Coors Light into his cart with his bud over in the cooler area and I cringe, waiting to be mocked for my appearance.

Instead I hear, "Maraud Lebowski. Ha! Oh my god that is f$%king hilarious. Derby, right?? Seriously, that's the best derby name ever. Genius. Freaking genius. Amazing." And he goes on and on, doubled over and laughing, furiously quoting the movie to his friend who I'm certain has never seen it, laughing uproariously at the quotes I'm firing back and I think we are collectively kind of scaring the lone, slightly haggard check out lady with our enthusiasm. He's bellowing "Up top sister!!" and offering me his hand, over and over. He's vowing to wear his Walter Sobchak outfit from Lebowskifest to my next bout and I'm telling him about the purple Jesus Quintana costume I made Alan for Halloween a few years ago. We have bonded instantly, he proclaims himself my number one fan. Minutes later, I'm getting in my car and he runs over to give me yet another high five.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Mistakes, Moments and Beginning Again

She picked up momentum and body checked me with all her weight as we were coming around the corner. I  wasn't low enough, heard her kind of growl, my breath exit me with me with an "ogghhhh" and somehow I ended up backwards with an excellent view of everyone's skates and a few fishnetted legs coming at me. "Ooooo look at that girl's sweet toe guards, wow, this floor is very shiny, keep your hands in fists so nobody runs over your fingers, thank goodness I wore the padded shorts tonight, and oh wow I'm going over backwards now" are the things that rushed through my head in the 2-3 seconds I had to get up as I executed some type of crazy backwards ninja roll, got up on my toe stops, and sprinted off to try and catch up with the pack.

May 19 was my first bout. And it was extraordinary.  I relished every moment of it.  I am head over heels (literally) in love. Can't wait for this Sunday, when we get to go again. From the warm up to the afterparty, one of the best nights of my life, full of moments that will forever make me smile. These women are amazing, they and these experiences enrich my life in multitudes of ways.

Speaking of in love, I sold my bike and a ton of baby stuff and got new skates and wheels. My starter skates were a bit too large and on top of that they had stretched out so much that each time I picked my leg up to cross over I could feel them drop slightly off my foot and my toes shift side to side as well as forward and back inside the boot. It was really awful, and beginning to cause me significant back and leg pain. I sold them as well and am now in a ridiculously amorous, borderline fetishistic relationship with my new ones and my new wheels. Alan just laughs (perhaps a bit uneasily) at me as I come home, clean my wheels and toast my new loves, sticking my nose deep into them, sniffing the soft leather, repeatedly proclaiming my love and fondling the sweet stripes on the sides. At some point I will probably grace you all with a ode or perhaps a love sonnet to my skates, so please stay tuned for that excitement.

I was lucky enough to have a few awesome pictures taken by our league photographer. I will cherish these as I do several taken when I was dancing in Pittsburgh and one of me bald in my gi, breaking a board with my hand in Washington Square park when we lived in New York and were studying karate. What's similar about all these prized photos is that I can remember those moments with absolute clarity, and looking at them allows me to relive some pretty powerful experiences.

photo by Laura Leonard Fitch
It's my mindset in the  shot on the right that I love. I know exactly when it was taken, what I was thinking. There were no second guesses, my usual string of worries and self flagellation were absent. I was uncharacteristically calm, completely in the moment. I was feeling my feet in my new skates, my sit bones on the chair, the huge industrial fan blowing on my back on that wickedly hot day, enjoying the movement of my breath, taking it all in, completely immersed in the moment. I wasn't dwelling on the past, attempting to plan the future. I was there, fully present in that chair, not even slightly worried about the kids. It was a moment solely for me. Alan printed this photo and it hangs on the wall over our kitchen table. I look at it daily, especially during the hectic times and remind myself that it's possible, I'm still capable of calm, focus and clarity in moments of chaos.

Speaking of hectic moments....

Perhaps it's an overshare, but if I am able to think about it objectively I feel this story is hilarious and pretty much too disgusting not to share.

Our latest endeavor is toilet training the boy. We have graduated him to awesome underwear (which is adorable and I am including photos) except during his nap and overnight. After about a day he pretty much got it down.

Today he decided it was imperative that he hold his full sippy cup and drink while he was peeing, so he could "watch the water drain out of him." Not yet having my second coffee and too exhausted to argue I stupidly agreed to this. He usually wants me to squat next to him and hold his hand when he's aiming. Moments later the cup drops into the toilet with a huge PLOP and I am the recipient of a face and shirt full of boy pee and toilet water. I'm fairly comfortable with playing the fool, so I feel inclined to also mention that my mouth was open, mid-sentence praising him for his achievements.

Bumbling. Confused. Slow witted. Lacking confidence and unable to make quick decisions. These are just a few ways I would describe my daytime persona. My main focus each day is to prevent the children from damaging themselves, defusing tantrums, deciphering what has caused them to inexplicably freak out and creating distractions to prevent it from happening again. The amount of brain power and energy this requires leaves little focus for much else.

By the time 5 PM rolls around and I'm on the way to pick up Alan I'm exhausted, in need of a glass of wine and ready to lay down. The days I have derby practice I often question where the heck I'm going to find the energy and mental clarity to go and participate. Although these thoughts flutter about like ominous, party pooping gargoyles in my completely hazy brain, I manage to gather and pack my gear with the boy sitting on the bed and meticulously, thoughtfully choosing my derby socks. I can honestly say once I am there and skating they vanish. Things become clearer. I find my breath, discover untapped energy.

Clarity of thought. Focus. Staying in the moment. The ability to begin again. These are things I've been studying a large portion of my life, with dance, Alexander Technique, karate, parenthood and now roller derby. The "beginner's mind" our karate sensei spoke about in depth and my Alexander training are are both so pertinent to learning derby. It's incredibly easy to get stuck on mistakes I've made in the last 2-minute jam or second guess parenting choices. This habit totally interferes with my ability to be fully available to respond to situations in the next moment and I realize it is present in most activities I am involved in.

One of the best parts of a scrimmage or bout is that every 2 minutes or every time we get up we are able to start over with a new jam, a different strategy. If we allow it, this game structure enables us to acknowledge (but not dwell on) what wasn't so great about the past one, build on what we did well, wipe the toilet water off our faces, and begin again.