Part of my huge emotional turmoil yesterday really boiled down to one thing: I can’t believe derby did this to me.
I have forever been pumped to do roller derby. The moment I got on skates I felt like I was home. I’ve been busting my ass at it for about 3 months now, and I’m starting to really pick up on everything quick. In fact, in a month I’d be skating in my first home bout.
Well, WOULD have been. Because today I quit roller derby.
I sent an email to all the coaches and the board to tell them I would be, and not because of them – because I don’t want to get hurt.
I spent the better part of last night nursing my ass, contemplating how it had affected my Crossfit.
Look, I knew I was going to get knocked around in roller derby, so let’s not sit here thinking I had this notion in my head that I was going to be a dainty fucking flower on skates. That was part of the reason I wanted to do it, to get tough. I was going to be SALLY SADIST, for fuck’s sake, bashing the hell out of any girl that tried to stop my jammer, looking mean as shit doing it. But Crossfit has made me see that I can become tougher in different ways, and those are the ways I would prefer. Not by skate wheel bruises or concussions.
And so I hang up my Riedell skates, not long after lacing them for the first time. Maybe I’ll eventually become a ref of a non-skating official, but at the moment I’m bowing out of the derby scene and focusing on my fitness.