Jan 3, 2012

Changes

Blowing my ACL and giving up skating was a shock to the psyche. Unlike when I was just pregnant, I needed to be cautious with my leg and let it heal, I had to relearn how to walk up and down steps and make it to physical therapy three times a week.  It takes up all of my energy chasing a fraggle haired, little danger man around the house while also being mindful of the gentle feelings of a drama loving seven year old.  Hiring a sitter and going to derby practice once a week over November and December to stand in the middle of the track I so desperately wanted to be on, seemed like it would be torturous, both physically and mentally even though I missed it so much.

In January I hope to be cleared for endurance skating and would like to start attending Houston Roller Derby's Recreational League on Tuesday nights. I want to have a little of it back, with less of a commitment, at least until I'm done healing.  Then I'll reassess my situation and think about what is next.  I'd like time to plan and dream and anticipate what's next.  I'd like to be able to have a little control back even though I don't know what will come of it.  I just want it to be on my terms.

I miss skating until my legs are numb, my lungs burning with lactic acid and ego. I miss celebrating and being proud about the little accomplishments, both my team mates and mine.  I miss being soaking wet with sweat and delirious with happy.  I miss having all sorts of interesting people in my life every week and knowing who is ill, in love, has a blister and what people are seeing, eating, reading and listening to, what their goals are. I wasn't ready to give it up so abruptly.

I am used to living along side an army of diverse, tough women. It's hard when life changes without permission. Sometimes it takes a long time to adjust. I'm just now feeling like I live in Texas, despite my third Christmas in the Bayou.  I still feel like I can't buy expensive jeans because I just had a baby, though Jack is looking towards age two and riding a trike. Though I don't see my skatey-mates enough to tell you what color their hair is any more, letting go of these women and the derby community may take a lifetime.


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