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.

February 13 GALantine's Day Derbyball Spectacular

I was the kid in highschool who was so anti-gym class and sports that I would protest by running the opposite direction of the ball in gym class when we played basketball or football. I would sit down on the grass when I was inevitably placed in the farthest nether region of the outfield in baseball. A total dork, I was the kid who was pitifully bombarded with balls in dodgeball. I was perpetually the last one picked for teams. I loathed gym class. Until I discovered I could do super cool things like archery, ping pong, and bowling if I fufilled my gym requirement in summer school.

It's not that I wasn't athletic. I was a dancer since I was 9. I was super shy, didn't have many friends and I really missed out on the fun and camaraderie of being involved in a team sport. I was always pretty good on skates. I started when I was 5, and for most of my gradeschool and high school careers I LIVED for being on skates and going to the rink. Where I grew up they would do all night skates, where they'd lock you in from 8 pm to 8 am. And I would skate that entire 12 hours, stopping only for the bathroom or a snack.

Everything is more fun on skates.

Or maybe I'm just more fun on skates.

Last night at practice we played basketball on skates. And suddenly the absolute rush and excitement of being on a team came into sharp focus. I actually loved basketball last night, and I have to say, I don't think I was nearly as atrocious at it as I was in my tortured, super dorky high school days. I could actually dribble. I could dribble while skating backwards!  I was proficient at passing the ball back and forth with my teammates, while skating both backwards and forwards, and I surprised myself with my aggressiveness of blocking. I actually attempted to knock the ball out of people's hands and jumped a few times to knock it out of the air. True to form, I still couldn't make a damn basket to save my life. Always the overachiever, I was constantly whipping the ball all the way over the backboard. But no one laughed at me, at least not maliciously. My teammates actually still passed me the ball. Amazing.

I'm told there is video and I can't wait. I'm sure it was quite the spectacle. For Vice Quads practices we are in a little gymnasium in a gradeschool. It really was excellent use of the space, and in my opinion pure coaching genius. This activity contains so many of the skills we need for derby. The footwork, skating in different directions, running on toe stops, teamwork. We were sliding like crazy people for the ball when it rolled, tomahawk stopping all over, shooting from standing on our toe stops, squatting down and swooping the ball up after someone  dropped it. Laughing our asses off and sweating like maniacs.  Totally totally awesome.

When I put my skates on it does something to me, alters my confidence and personality in the most outstanding ways. I fancy myself an entry level super hero. I become brave. I take chances. It has always offered me that, since I was 5 and put on my first pair of metal, adjustable strap on skates and conquered my bumpy driveway, that awesome wind on my face, egging me on.

Saturday's practice was also totally fun too. I was just unable to lift my arms to write about it for 2 days after. We did a ton of military crawls and a wrestling type warm up. We were on our hands and toe stops, legs bent and torso raised off the ground. We had to walk forwards and backwards in that position many many MANY times. Fun fun fun. So. Much. Fun.

My newest goal is to be proficient at crossing over when skating the opposite direction on the track, both forwards and backwards. When skating counter-clockwise (normal derby direction) I have no problem crossing my right leg over. When skating backwards clockwise, I am the queen of crossing that right leg over. I'm like freaking Nancy Kerrigan, performing in the Ice Capades. (Ooooo....there's another excellent derby name, Nancy Impairigan!!)  Whenever skating direction dictates a left leg cross over, be it clockwise forward or counter-clockwise backwards it's as if there's a humongous magnet holding that left leg to the floor, not allowing me to lift it and perform the cross over. It's wacky how confused my body gets, how instilled the muscle memory of skating counter-clockwise most of the time is, and as a result how foreign crossing over with the left leg becomes. I know I can do it, but in the moment my body is totally confused.

Being that it is Valentine's Day it wouldn't be right if I didn't pay a little homage to the crazy little pot- bellied angel dude in this post. He has hit me hard with one of his heart tipped arrows and I am smitten with all these amazing, energetic, hilarious women and this sport.

My daughter, my inspiration.

One has not fully grasped the joys or more accurately heartbreak of parenthood until witnessing 4 grown women struggling to hold down your one year old as she repeatedly grapples her way out of their attempts to restrain her. This is how I spent last night.

I'm still pretty frazzled from the whole experience this afternoon and not sure whether I should be really proud or terrified of her strength and spirit.

Her drive to fight and keep trying to escape from a total of 8 hands, arms and two huge sheets wrapping her like a burrito was extraodinary, along the lines of Beatrix Kiddo, Sidney Bristow or Buffy. She's a grappler, for sure. I know this from changing her diaper many many times a day and breaking a sweat each time, even in the depths of winter. She vigorously took on these unexpecting ladies and gave them quite a challenge. The whole scene was borderline sickening to my mom eyes. But to my derby eyes it was beyond inspiring.

I recognized one move she was attempting in her escape and warned them she was headed for the edge of the table quicker than they could blink. I don't know if they didn't believe me but it was after she executed that one that they called in the fourth nurse. It was as if she could sense the lady on her legs getting fatigued or softening her grip, because then she would powerfully kick her legs way up in the air, lifting her pelvis off the table and then slam her legs back down and the whole sheet wrap would unravel, causing them all to scramble to recover. As they fumbled, she was already over on her stomach, fully unwrapped and almost off he edge of the table.

A quick recap. Last night before dinner Oona fell, caught the toy she was holding just right on her knee and smashed it into her chin. She bit her tongue as well and blood was pouring out of her mouth. She also had a 1/2 inch gash on her chin and the sides of it were pretty open. She was only really unhappy when we tried to hold her, get some ice on it and assess how bad the cut was. She managed to eat a huge dinner, which is unusual for her because she can be an annoyingly fussy eater. She truly was only crabby when we tried to comfort her. She didn't want comforting, she wanted to be free to continue exploring and wreaking havoc.

It is this drive and fighting spirit that motivates me. I was much more shaken from the whole experience than she was. I got her out of the hospital and into the car and in moments she was silently crunching her goldfish crackers. When I brought her into the house and put her down, chin glued and taped shut she was off and running from room to room, attempting to lift her brother's potty training stool over her head as if nothing had happened or it wasn't past her normal bedtime. Her adaptability astounds me.

Although she is at times both exhausting and infuriating, I'd love to be more like her. Joyful. Taking wild and often absolutely ridiculous chances in the name of exploration and freedom. Powerful and insanely fast. Utterly fearless. Strikingly mighty despite her wee size. Unstoppable. Able to escape the limitations provided by 4 nurses more than 3 times her size. And most importantly, never giving up.

6 hours of Delicious Skating Goodness

3 practices this week! 6 hours of delicious skating goodness. I couldn't be more excited. Sadly, there is just not enough time for me to write this entry covering all three as well as I would like. Being a major klutz I also sustained a pretty painful injury this week.

Which had absolutely NOTHING to do with derby, but was incurred while existing in the Peter Parker portion of my life. Hee hee. "Peter Parker portion. Peter Parker portion". Say that several times fast.

It was an especially hectic lunchtime with the kiddos on Thursday. One plus to the pandemonium (oooo what an excellent derby name that would be..."Pam DeMonium") was that I was getting a ton of squats and lunges in, constantly picking up the various objects, sippy cups, and dog-toxic grapes and raisins that were being flung.

Yes people, I am just that much of a nerd. Treating every retrieval as a chance to work my lunges and squats. I also sometimes do this throughout my day with my one year old and her 20ish pounds in tow. She enjoys the ride and I get in some weighted squats with the boy dancing around us as we listen to his musical requests.

The one time I slipped out of my work out routine and bent over from my waist (all of you Alexander Tech people would have shuddered..) to pick some child type thing up during lunch I stupidly smacked my eye socket/brow into a chair and howled in agony. I saw stars, I actually felt my eyeball get nudged back into the socket, and momentarily forgot my boy's name. Luckily we haven't completely succeeded in breaking his habit of speaking of himself in third person and that brain fart was corrected. I went to the mirror and watched the lump on my eyebrow grow and the inside corner of my eye turn black. I held an ice pack on and off for the rest of lunch and surprisingly the blackening went away.

All I wanted to do in that moment was sit with the dog's head in my lap and moan or maybe whimper for a bit. My head and eyeball hurt so badly, I was dizzy and my vision in that eye was blurry. Aldo was yelling and Oona was deep in her normal mealtime insanity, vehemently refusing most foods I put in front of her. But I had to pull it together because my kids are little (2 1/2 and 1) and they were getting freaked. What helped me do that was the previous night's practice, knowing it was especially challenging and that I had done it.

One drill we did was bonkers fun, kind of like Navy Seal practice on skates. I believe some of the girls refer to it as "Satan's Mattress" or something to that extent. It involves sprinting a lap, then sliding on a knee or two, dropping and doing increasing amounts of pushups, situps and holding plank position. We did this for a long time, often with 25 push or sit ups in between sprints. Total fun. Crazy, sweaty, heart pounding, adrenaline rushing, derby high fun. The memory of that specific drill is what brought me back to my little yellow kitchen and the importance of regaining my composure.

After Wednesday's practice my "extended adrenaline rush super power" must have kicked in again. Seriously, what is with my muscles? I am never sore until a few days after practice. I felt nothing all day Thursday. And nothing all day Friday, until about 9 PM. At that time some internal clock went off and my muscles began screaming at me, pleading for epsom salts and ibuprofen.

If this was Pee Wee's Playhouse the secret word would be duality. In case my witty banter isn't enough and you want to have some extra fun with this blog, you know what to do when you read that word.

So duality. I'm thinking of the balance of several two-fold things this week. First, the co-existence of slow and fast twitch muscle fibers. We all have both types within our muscles. The fast twitch fibers are utilized for more explosive movements like sprinting and the slow are more for endurance, like in marathoners. It's so fascinating to me as an Alexander Technique teacher to observe people at practice. Derby really requires both groups of muscle fibers, but it is so clear which type of movement a skater is more geared towards in her musculature. I'm certain that although we may be more predisposed towards one or the other in our muscle composition it is still possible through training to round ourselves out a bit. You can see it in the more veteran skaters. I observe in myself that I must be more slow twitch in my composition because the endurance stuff is way easier for me and I really need to put a fire under it for the things that require super quick, explosive movement.

The other instance of duality I continue to ponder this week is how my derby and momming lives affect each other. There are times that I feel like all this super hero training, endurance, full contact, and quick footwork on skates we do at practice is actually easier than what I deal with all day with the kiddos. Yesterday we were seeing how many burpees we could do in a minute. That's the exercise when you are standing, jump up in the air, drop to the floor and jump back into a squat thrust, hands on the floor, plank position. Repeat. While on skates, it's easiest if you do the whole thing on your toe stops. I did 18. And I LOVED it. Totally fun, and somehow strangely easier than lunchtime at my house. Still rushing on a derby high, I insisted on demonstrating this exercise to the hubster when I got home and the kids were having lunch. (in my kitchen and of course with skates) The kids thoroughly enjoyed the show,by her screams of approval I'm absolutely certain Oona is a future derby girl, and after 14 years of wedded bliss if he didn't already my husband now believes I am a lunatic.

I wonder about the levels of challenge in my life, why all this derby stuff often seems easier to me than my days with the kids. When I practically gouged my eyeball out on Thursday it was the toughness of derby that got me through that moment, remembering I was a warrior.  On more exhausted, negative days I tell myself my struggles with the kids are because I'm a terrible mom. After I talk myself down from that I think maybe it's because I'm only responsible for myself in derby, and not constantly needing to monitor whether the kids have constructed a ladder of mega blocks and are hanging from the ceiling fan or messing with the poor sainted dog's genitals. I love the space it gives me to be with myself on so many different levels, the room I have to think, sweat and experience. We skate really fast but somehow within that framework it's timeless and I have plenty of room to slow down and enjoy the ride.