Saturday, March 16, 2013

Don't Give Up

I have learned something the past few weeks that, in spite of its simplicity, is a startlingly huge game changer for me.

I don't have to fall down every time someone hits me.

By fall I don't mean only in the obvious, most literal way. Falling for me also describes the drastic plummet in my belief, my confidence, my very will to remain upright that happened the majority of last season each time I was hit or failed to effectively block someone. My experience, until the last bout of the season, was a string of self-doubt and self-flagellation, of giving up over and over again. In scrimmage I would refuse the jammer helmet panty with such vehemence my teammates just stopped offering it to me. If that damn panty came near me I'd sense my breath way up in my neck, feel nauseous and be unable to swallow. The idea of failing, of never getting through the pack and being stuck behind and knocked around by the opposing blockers was absolutely stifling.

My goals for this season are as follows:
  1. Become more aggressive.
  2. Be bold and never refuse the jammer panty.
  3. Stretch my existing limits and become skilled at that position as well as learning to be a more effective blocker, both offensively and defensively.
To my habitually self-doubting and hypercritical mind it sounds completely ridiculous to say, but if I could achieve anything this season, it's this: I want to work my ass off both at practice and the gym, confront fear of failure and become a double threat on the track. At the very least, be able to decently play all positions without harshly judging myself and stifling my growth as a skater.

Ah, to be limitless in my view of myself and my abilities as a skater. As a parent, a person. Now that is a tremendous goal. What would that mean for me? No mental interferences, just belief in the concept that if I work my butt off, fail and then reboot over and over I can achieve success.

As a dear friend recently pointed out to me, this is the framework we utilize for raising the kids. What I see in them, especially the boy is often frustration and turmoil because he's got all these complex, intricate plans and his coordination and fine motor skills are so close but sometimes just not there yet. Frequently he has tantrums and expresses his strong desire to be "bigger like daddy" so he can do more, have bigger hands and longer arms and legs.

The few times I attempted jamming last season in scrimmage I would get to a place where I was stuck behind the pack, had no idea how to get through, and to be honest had no desire to even try. I gave up, over and over, and that was accompanied by such an intense sense of failure that I rendered myself unable to even move, just waiting for the jam to be over. It sucked. I caught myself asking "What's the point??" when I found myself stuck back there, a human pinball controlled by the opposing blockers. It was no fun, I was miserable and often left practice feeling defeated and useless.

After a few months off after last season and a loooooong break from Aldo's school with the kids for the holidays I had a very clear reminder of how frustration (with a toddler's lack of impulse control) can manifest. I was pretty much doing what he does very externally to myself, but keeping it all inside. When he's in that state, I hear myself calmly reminding him over and over "You can do it. Don't give up." I hold him tight to me sometimes when he is in tears and ask him to notice my big, deep breaths and to try and let his breath be like mine. I have made him a couple signs for strategic places in the house. One is embellished with shiny stars. They all say "DON'T GIVE UP!"

In a fleeting moment of clarity in the pandemonium that is life with two insanely energetic and curious toddlers, it occurred to me that perhaps I should extend this encouragement to myself. How can I guide them to be confident explorers, dreamers and fighters if my example is so incredibly lacking? It's not that they witness my mental flagellation firsthand when I struggle in scrimmage but it is omnipresent in the way I view myself, the tone I use to speak to myself. The only way to set an example I am proud of is to recognize and inhibit those negative reactions and opinions of myself.

So there it was. Recognize and eliminate the "What's the points?" and instead replace them with "Sure. Why not? I can give it a try. Keep pushing. Try another approach." Find my drive to fight hard, to be unyielding in my efforts and never give up no matter how challenging or exhausting the situation is.

The first scrimmage of the season someone tossed me the jammer helmet panty and I caught it. I also caught myself saying, "I hate this. I suck at it. What's the point?" I paused for a second and with the mild intervention of another dear friend removed that from my thinking. Then I slid it onto my helmet and took my place behind the jammer line. In that split second I made the decision that I had multiple options besides falling down or giving up when impacted or my path was blocked.  I could try bending my knees, using my hydraulic leg system to meet the impact. I could adjust the angle of my pelvis as the hit came to meet me. I could take a step or two. I could hit the blocker coming at me first. I could simply be stubborn and decide I wasn't going to fall.

"Tweeeet!!!" goes the jam start whistle.  And I'm off. Just a wall of bodies in front of me. I gravitate toward the bodies with the same color jersey as me. Then a tiny little break in the wall of opposing blockers. Keeping my elbows in somehow I nudge my way through. I get body checked by someone but remain upright and inbounds. Someone else checks me. I go out of bounds, turn into a quick tomahawk stop then dart back in behind the person who knocked me out. Still I stay upright. A third person hits me, I remember to turn my pelvis into the hit and give them my butt. To my surprise they fall. I kind of step over them, aim myself at a skater with my jersey color and hip whip off of her, bending low and sort of swerving around 2 opposing blockers. I have made it through the pack! "Tweet tweeeeet!" goes the whistle, signalling me as lead jammer. I allow myself a moment of "Holy shit! I did it!!!"

Then it's just me and the sound of my skates, slowing my breath, releasing my leg joints, lengthening my spine as I skate around the track, swinging my arms and crossing over, hugging the corner as I come to it. Eyes wide open as I near the back of the pack to start my first scoring pass ever. I see one of my team's blockers back there, watching for my approach. We make eye contact and she's right there, working with me to clear a hole, occupy a tough opposing blocker. I get around them, and another blocker. Then I get hit by someone, stay up and in bounds. I look and see another of my blockers watching for me, near the outside line. She's leaning on an opposing blocker, her right hand extended for a whip. I skate towards her. Just as I'm about to grab her forearm for the whip the blocker she's been leaning on knocks her down. I manage to step over her and get around. The same opposing blocker that got her sprints out to me trying to knock me out. I lift my outside foot so as not to go out of bounds and refuse to fall. I stay upright and in bounds, take several running steps forward as she chases me and I am through the pack.

It's at that moment I receive the answer to my "What's the point?" query. Because it is absolutely freaking unbelieveably AWESOME and worth every ounce of struggle when you pick up your feet, sprint away from that last blocker chasing you and get through a scoring pass.

As with all derby discoveries, this has an immediate and profound effect on my life. My pedestrian, off-skates life. I have located my will to fight through the more exhausting and rougher patches of balancing momming, work, sleep deprivation, grueling moments of toddler tears,  dramatic frustration and all the other stuff life throws my way. I've found more calm, confidence, the ability to stay standing and a greater sense of humor with the challenges. Once again this sport has positively influenced me on a deep personal level, strengthened me, made me better and remains one of the best life choices I've ever made.

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