My previous BitchBuzzian chronicles of my life’s adventures (or non-adventures as the case may be) have been tales fraught with fail, so it seems fitting that my foray into roller derby should be no different.
I heard about tryouts for the Big Easy Rollergirls a week before they were scheduled and psyched does not even adequately describe my level of excitement. There are three things I swore to myself I’d do during my stint in New Orleans: sing at a jazz club, start my own burlesque troop and play roller derby. So, naturally, I had visions of my new life of fabulousness and ass-kicking dancing in my head.
And then reality came crashing down on me.
I am a spectacularly inactive shade of sedentary, and roller derby is, well, a sport. Sports are like kryptonite to my kind. One is generally required to be in some semblance of shape in order to participate. I, however, am so out of shape that I literally have no shape. Seriously. When the clothes come off I just kind of ooze everywhere like a fleshy alien blob with really nice hair.
But then I thought fuck reality! When have I ever let something so trivial as reality get in my way? I was going to be a Big Easy Rollergirl, damnit! If I didn’t at least try I’d never be able to look myself in the eye again.
Over the course of the next week I changed my mind at least three times a day, but when the day finally arrived I was fucking Zen. I threw on every item of clothing I could find that even remotely resembled sportswear and dragged my gay boyfriend along for driving directions and moral support. An unexpected detour and an unplanned stop at a sporting goods store to purchase a mouthguard and steal a pair of socks from the bin they leave out for you to use while trying on shoes had me running a little late, but I was relatively undaunted.
The girls at the sign-up table were friendly and non-intimidating as they explained the application and helped me choose a helmet, pads and skates. I breezed through the applications questions on skating skill level (slightly better than completely sucking) and why I wanted to be a rollergirl (cause rollergirls kick ass) and only put one set of pads on backwards on the first try (stupid elbow pads). I was missing the warm-up, but it seemed I wasn’t the only one, and I had a sudden rush of confidence. I could DO this. I was going to be a rollergirl!
And then I started to skate.
Despite what I believed at the time, getting back on skates for the first time in about 12 years is not like getting back on a bike. I spent a good 75% of my total brain power just focusing on staying upright, and I still fell a couple of times. I couldn’t stop without using the wall, let alone lift either of my feet long enough to do the crossovers they were attempting to teach us. After about 15 minutes of skating I wanted to die. I was drenched in sweat, breathing harder than I even realized it was physically possible to breathe, and my back was killing me from having to stay crouched as I skated. I was regretting this. A lot.
And then I simultaneously heard and felt it...a creaking like a rickety stair accompanied by a pulling in my back. I shot up from my crouch in pain and disbelief as a small wildfire started in my lower back. I had pulled a muscle in my fucking back! Something vital to my ability to crouch over and skate at the same time.
Skating back to the table where my gay boyfriend sat I was forced to admit defeat. I was officially too fat for roller derby. It was, to say the least, a low moment in my life. A moment of epicaly depressing proportions.
One of the rollergirls came over to make sure I was okay, and she told me if I could I should stick around for the interviews. Not willing to give up my dream entirely I laid on my back on a bench until the skating was over and I could interview.
I’m so glad I did. I got a chance to talk to some of the veteran rollergirls and they were all beyond both friendly and cool.
As I sat waiting to interview another girl skated up to check on me. She told me that before I’d wiped out I hadn’t been doing too terribly (which was extremely generous of her cause I’m pretty sure I was, if anything, a quarter-note above complete and total suck) and that I shouldn’t be discouraged by my injury. When I finally got to interview they told me about the work they do in the community and what a close-knit, DIY sisterhood it is, and the more they talked the more my excitement returned.
Despite the fact that it was repeatedly stated that they were going to train everyone so sucking didn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t make it I’m harboring no illusions that I’m going to make the cut, but talking to the veteran rollergirls made me want to not give up.
Now I’m more inspired than ever to become a part of a group of women that not only kick ass but support and encourage other women. I’m more determined than ever to do what I’ve got to do to be able to do things that empower me. And if that means getting up off my lazy ass once in a while and breaking a sweat then so be it. Cause I know one thing with absolute certainty...I am going to be a rollergirl one day.
***Update***
To her utter astonishment Rosina Rubylips has, as of press time, been
officially accepted as one of the newest members of the Big Easy
Rollergirl team the Marigny Antoinettes. True to her word, she is going to be a rollergirl.
Image via Lost Highway Roller Derby