Rejoice! It is the dawn of a new derby season!
New season, new helmet. After much deliberation I opted for a purple one, with a very sparkly silver name and number. Then I made myself a sparkly gold viking helmet to stick to the front. In honor of my wee viking and Maude Lebowski in the hilarious "Gutterballs" dream sequence in the Big Lebowski.
The wee viking is my inspiration. Words cannot express the power in her the moments she allows me to hold her close with my head against her tiny chest, feeling and hearing her heartbeat or "heart beep" as she calls it. She often lays a big, wet miniature mastiff kiss on my chest and informs me she is "kissing my heart." I am attempting to channel her fearless, joyful, good natured scrappiness, effervescent energy, determination, and daring as I strive to improve my skills this season.
As of this morning we are beginning to wonder if she is perhaps some sort of Maori warrior/viking hybrid. She has taken to standing in an extremely low stance, feet turned out and knees over her toes, thighs parallel to the ground. Then she sort of twists her arms around and occasionally hits at her chest, all the while sticking her tongue out, waggling it and sort of grunting and occasionally stomping her feet. She has also on numerous occasions forgone the paper we provide her with and instead taken her Crayola markers to her face and arms, informing me that one day she will have tattoos all over.
Ahhhhh. How giddy I am to be back at practice with all these fantastic ladies. I put on my skates and gear and I find myself. I love all the drills, the endurance and footwork, skating in a tight pack, shifting places like a murmuration of birds.
I would have to say that sprinting a few laps and baseball sliding into a plank position is pretty much my new favorite thing. This is not required, but I just can't help myself. All we need to do is skate the laps, then back to our place and get ourselves into a plank. But the slippery floor just calls to the choreographer/latent superhero in me, and there I am, picking up momentum, sliding on my side then onto my stomach and up into a plank. All in one move. The further I am able to slide prior to the plank the better. I am such a dork.
As far as favorite things this maneuver is rivaled by skating a few laps, sliding 360° on my knees (also not at all required) for an extra ridiculous flourish and to make myself or anyone watching laugh and then dropping to a military crawl, pushups or sit ups. Last practice I was actually attempting to pick up enough momentum that I could make it around twice on my knees prior to the sit ups, crawl, or pushups. And "attempt" really is the only description suitable for the less than graceful, wild moves this jackass was performing. But alas, dare to dream.....
At first this particular endurance drill is the most excellent fun but by the end I find myself thinking about the big finale sequence in basically every Terminator/horror/sci fi movie where the protagonist believes the attacker to be dead and then there he is, back on his feet and coming for them. To get myself through those last few minutes this is where my wacky mind goes. I become the Terminator, my red laser eye aimed at finishing the drill, and of course laughing manically as I go.
Over our break I went to an open skate. I was playing with GWrath on skating sideways. Working on the footwork off the rink while holding wrists and rotating in a circle. We went back out to skate. This lady comes up to me and asks if I would do her a favor and teach her daughter how to do the spin GWrath and I were doing. So I skate off the rink, find her daughter and show her how. She's a bit wobbly so I tell her to bend more in her hips and then she gets it. She seems shocked she got it and looks at me with saucer eyes sparkling, almost teary and says reverently, "You're my hero." I ask her name and age and she says Kaylee, and that she's 8. I tell her my name is Kate and still with those huge eyes, she exclaims "Wow. That's a lot like my name." Then she gives me a high five and repeats again that I am her hero.
Although excellent for my ego, this statement is laughable. If you know me you are well aware that I am harshly self critical, so thinking of myself as someone's hero is automatically ridiculous to me. My first reaction when given any sort of compliment is to try and argue the point, make light of it and joke my way out. Being someone's hero is a huge responsibility to live up to, and in all honesty I spend an enormous amount of time in both my pedestrian and derby lives doubting myself and my abilities.
The greatest gift training to be and becoming an Alexander Technique teacher has given me is the opportunity to recognize and suspend unconscious and/or automatic habits like this. We all have them, be it physical or mental. In my experience it's the mental ones that pose the greater challenge to choosing a new way of responding.
So I catch myself, and instead of snorting with laughter in this sweet little kid's face I pause for a moment, then choose a different, non habitual response. I tell her thanks so much, return her high five and smile. Enjoy the moment. However goofy and bumbling I view myself, in this moment I am this kid's hero and that is extraordinary.
