My own Bully...not any more

I am Sugar!  Hear me ROAR! 
I will NOT be my OWN BULLY!  I WILL NOT BE MY OWN BULLY!
I will overcome my own personal inner demons and I will come out on top.
I will.
Fuck you.  You mean inner BULLY.  I am not listening to you anymore.
I am Sugar.
I think I can.  I KNOW I WILL.

New Beginnings

 

Old Capitol City Roller Girls had a night of new beginnings at our Roll Out event Friday night.

New website, new logo, our newest skaters showcasing all they have learned in the past eight months!

It was a great time!
The team as a unit is doing fantastic!  We are rolling right along.  Almost through our apprenticeship.  Kicking ass and taking names.
On a personal note, Sugar is struggling. 
I am elated to be back in my skates.  Taking and giving hits.  Participating in full contact drills and pushing my body like it has not been pushed since last July.  That being said.  My mind is ready.  I want it so badly.  I want to be great.  To conquer all challenges.  To be a force on the track.  But my body isn't doing what my mind is telling it to. 
Practices are frustrating.  Emotionally exhausting.  I find myself on the verge of tears many times throughout the course of every single practice, because I feel like I cannot keep up.  My endurance sucks.  My blocks suck.  My balance is off.  My feet don't do what they are supposed to do when they are supposed to do it.  My penalty count is ridiculous.  I am not as skilled as I want to be, as I was, as I feel like I should be.  I feel like I am lost.  I am my own bully.  In the worst possible way.  Constantly telling myself "You're not good enough. Try harder, you suck, Sugar."  Feeling like I am wasting my time because I will never catch up to the skill level of the rest of the team.  I feel discouraged and disheartened.  
I feel sad because I know it is the most pessimistic attitude to have.  I know I need to be positive.  To give myself time.  But I find that nearly impossible to do, and it hurts.  I know there are people sitting there, reading this, thinking, get a grip, quit feeling sorry for yourself, and you are right.  I know you are.  However, for some fucking reason, I cannot seem to get out of my damn head.
  I just sit here questioning what the hell I am doing.
So what the hell am I doing?

100% clear

The results are in...my knee looks great!

My surgeon is extremely pleased with my recovery.  Everything healing, tight and stable.

I am released to full contact skating.

I am ecstatic. 

My appoint yesterday was just a few hours before practice.  So last night I went full throttle.  It felt amazing!  Oh how I missed everything about skating.  Really skating.

I have a lot of work ahead of me.  But I am determined and dedicated.  

I am excited to begin my new journey.

Sugar can skate again!

Sugar is happy.

Just Happy.

Trying not to think

I'm trying not to focus on this week.

Trying not the think about the appointment with my surgeon on Wednesday.

The last appointment I had, my hopes were high.  I thought I was going back to skating full force.  Only to be "knocked" into reality that my body wasn't ready for that yet.  

After two months of being able to be on skates with zero contact, basically skating around in circles, watching my teammates progress further without me, I have found myself to feel more discouraged than when I was unable to skate at all.  Strange huh?  Ungrateful, maybe?  But, I can't help my feelings, right.  It has been more difficult to be able to put on the skates and not be able to go full throttle, than to not have them on at all because I have that taste in my mouth.  The feeling running through my veins again.  I remember the adrenaline rush of lacing up my skates, my wheels under my feet, and I want it all.  I want it all.  Not half of it, all of it.  My brain has made my listen to my surgeon.  Only do what I am clear to do-no contact.  Only endurance.  Listening to my body when it tells me to slow down, or stop and take a break.

My appointment Wednesday will be just two weeks short of one year post knee surgery.  One year marking the magical time that my surgeon said he would not clear me for contact/competition before reaching that point on time.  My brain understands why they long period of time.  My heart argues.

Will that time really be here?  I am calm about it right now.  My brain is telling me to be patient.  It is saying that there is a good chance that he will tell me that my knee is still not ready.  That the grafts still need more time to heal.  My brain is telling me that this makes sense.  That I have to be understanding if this is the outcome of the assessment.  My heart however, is racing.  Will it finally be time?  Will I finally be able to skate?  Skate the way I really want to skate.  Full contact.  Full power.  Full Sugar.  What does that even mean anymore?  My heart tells my brain it is ready.  My heart feels that it wants so badly to be in the action, on the track, racing around, really in the game.  But is my body really ready for what my heart wants?  

I know there is no way to know that answer for sure.  There is no true right or wrong answer.  I know that when the time comes, I will go with what is in my heart.  Because that is who I am.  I am just Sugar.  Sugar listens to her heart.  I always have.  In everything in my life, not just roller derby.

But I am scared.  

I am trying not to think.  I will not think.  I will shut off my heart.  I will shut off my brain.

At least not until I am sitting in that office on Wednesday...then I can't promise anything, because my brain will inevitably lose to my heart...and my heart will take over. 

Killing it.

Team work feels great.

We worked hard.  We practiced hard.  We played well.  Together.  We were on top of our game.  Mentally.  Physically.  The entire game.  We went in it to win.  To prove to ourselves that we deserved it.  We DESERVED it!  We  brought home the 9th win of the season, bringing us to 9-1 record, with 2 home bouts remaining this season.

We kill kill killed it...

Practice Two

Tonight was practice TWO.
It felt good.  Really good. 
I was steady in my skates.  I pushed myself hard...but not too far.  I listened to my body.
We did time trials again.  I did all four sets of five minute intervals.  (Sunday I only did three sets.)  I wasn't as fast as I was Sunday, which disappointed me a little at first.  After I thought about it, I felt better.  I still made the requirement number of laps in the time 3/4 intervals.  Nothing to be discouraged about. 
I feel proud.  I feel Strong. I feel determined.  I will reach my goals.

The time is now

Nine months ago, this was me.  Sitting in a chair, leg propped high up on a pillow mountain, on ice, in pain...a lot of pain actually.

I have been patient.  I have been well behaved.  I have followed directions.  Done countless hours of physical therapy.  I've cried.  I've felt discouraged.  Beaten.  Broken.  

I have stood beside my teammates and watched them grow.  Become amazing athletes.  Fine tuned machines.  I've coached from the sidelines, and feel I have done what I could to bring home many victories so far this season.  This team is my inspiration.  Watching them skate and grow is my inspiration.  They have stood beside me too.  Supporting me with words and hugs the entire way.  I am grateful to them always.

My time is now...Sugar is back.

Last night, after 11 months of being off my skates..It was time.

My time.

I wasn't sure if I should smile or cry.  So I did both.  Cried with my permanent grin, the entire practice.

This is where I belong, in my skates.  On the track.  The sound of my wheels spinning under me.

It was a feeling I will never forget.  Not like the first time, when I started derby...better than that.  I've known all this time what I have been missing, and I really missed it.

I felt alive.  I felt free.  I felt fantastic.  I was skating.  I was skating.  Did I mention...I was skating.

The time is now...It's my time...finally.

Cheers to me

Sugar is back.

Finding my Place

My anxious spirit went from anxious to emotional as the appointment with my surgeon didn't go as I so hoped that it would.  I saw him on April 12th.  Which was 7months and 3 days post my major knee reconstruction.  

He entered the exam room and I felt my excitement and hope climb higher and higher as I sat on the table and talked with him about the progress I have made along the way.  He took measurements.  Had me do several exercises, and then he tested the tightness in the ligaments by doing a series of bends, flexes and wiggles.  I'm sure there are much more scientific way to describe it, but that's what it feels like he is doing, so we will go with that description of his critique.  He began talking about how pleased he is with the stability in the knee.  The ligaments all feel tight and just as they should.  He complimented me in the fact that he can tell I have been continuing "diligently" with my physical therapy (as instructed) by him and my therapist.  He said he could not be more impressed with my healing and progress since the surgery.  I beamed smiles.  Knowing proudly inside that I have done everything I have been instructed to do, since day one of injuring my knee.  From icing, to resting, to bending in a prone position for months.  EVERYTHING I HAVE BEEN TOLD.  I waited for him to continue, but he didn't.  He looked at me and then said, "I'm sure you are wondering when you can get back onto your skates?"  I of course answered his question before he could even finish the sentence.  "YES?!"  

He began the next part of the conversation slow and concerned, but stern and deliberate.  "Before you had the surgery, we talked about the time frame for full recovery.  You had a very extensive reconstruction of your knee.  One that takes time to heal completely.  From the beginning I told you it would be a MINIMUM of 9-12 months before you would be ready physically to be back on your skates.  I feel VERY strongly about that 9-12 months.  Right now we are only 7 months post surgery and at this point, I will not even consider clearing you medically.  You are not there yet, your body is not ready.  I will be completely honest with you,  I will more than likely not give you medical clearance until you reach that 12 month mark.  There is too much risk for rupture to the grafts.  Too much risk in re-injury this soon.  You have to give the grafts time to heal and continue to strengthen the muscles around it.  Aside from the PCL graft, we also completely reconstructed the MCL, it takes time for your body to regenerate and heal the tissue around both of the ligaments.  Even though it feels good, it is still healing.  I know that you feel ready, but as your doctor, I do not feel that you are."

Crushed.  I was crushed.  Fighting with everything in me not to burst into tears on the exam table in front of him.  Please don't start crying in front of him.  Too late.

"I would like to see you again in 3 months and we will reevaluate things at that time.  But until then, keep up the great work.  You are clear to do anything you feel comfortable doing, except skating.  Not pivoting/cutting type motion in the knee."

That was it.  I sat in the exam room alone for what felt like forever.  Tears streaming.  Sobbing.  Why did I let myself think that he was going to give me different news?  I was so angry at myself for getting my hopes up.  Thinking about that stupid new mouth guard I just made.  The new laces I just put into my skates.  The custom fit knee pads I had been researching for weeks.  Talking about playing with my team later this season.  Skating at practices again.  All for not.  Because I still have five months before I can skate.

As I left the office and drove away, I found that I was literally heaving I was so upset.  I'm Sugar.  I'm a fucking skater.  I'm not supposed to be standing on the sidelines.  I'm Sugar.  I called Matt.  He didn't know what to say, so he said nothing.  

I know that it all makes sense.  I know my body is the only one I have.  I know that the proper amount of time is critical in the long term health of my knee.  I know that.  But it still hurts inside.  I'm still sad.  Truthfully, the only people that can truly understand that feeling, are the ones that have sat on the sidelines with an injury and watched their teammates play without them.  It hurts.  I cannot even begin to describe what it feels like, and I wouldn't wish it on anyone.  

It took me several days and lots of tears to digest the fact that the 2011 season will not see Sugar on the track.  I can be okay with it because I have to be.  My sweet little Chloe is very concerned that her Mommy will not skate again.  I promise her that I will skate again.

I don't question my role on the team.  I know where I stand.  It isn't that at all.  I love this team and I know this team loves Sugar.  This team is forever a part of my life.   

I look at my new role as a line coach and I am proud to be in that position.  I know this game.  I am strong in the position and confident that I am where I should be for now.  I am learning so much and hope that I am a calming face to my teammates, a strong and confident leader off the track.  I hope that know how honored I am to be one of their coaches.  Just as I was honored to skate beside them.

I look at this amazing group of woman that work so hard to make this team successful.  It takes my breath away every single time.  We are kicking 2011 in the ass is so many ways and I don't just mean winning.  We fit the definition of the word TEAM in every way and I AM PROUD.

So every time I think about not being on skates right now, I am going to stop, think about how far I have come since July 21, 2010 when I was first injured.  Think about how I had a major knee surgery and have come through it with shining colors.  How things have changed for a little while.  Then I am going to think about November 2008, when I first found this team of 5 women, at a time when I needed it in my life just for me.  I helped grow and shape it into what it is today.  A TEAM of over 50 strong, beautiful woman, I am proud to call my TEAMMATES.  I am going to remember why I love this team, why I love roller derby and remember it is a part of me...whether I am on my skates...or not.

Because...

"I am just Sugar"

Anxious Spirit

It's been eight long moths since I blew my knee.  Eight L--O--N--G months since I have been in my skates.  Eight months since I have been watching my team play from the sidelines.  

We are one month into our bouting season, and what an amazing month it has been.

We began with our home opener on March 12th.  We took on the Quad City Rollers.  A familiar rival, who were eager and ready for our challenge on the track.  OCCRG played strong, as a team.  Focusing on strategical game play.  Playing smart.  Game one was a victory in many ways.

Game two, just one week later, we faced off against the Unholy Rollers of the Mad Rollin Dolls.  A WFTDA team.  A new set of challenges.  A new caliber.  We went in giddy with excitement to have been invited.  Excited just to skate and learn from these experienced skaters, most of which have been skating for double the time we have been.  The game was intense from the first jam until the last jam.  We pulled out a win by a mere 2 points.  It was by far and most the most difficult one to be standing on the sidelines for.  I wanted to be skating so badly.  To be a part of that victory so much.  Not even the victory, just the experience of it.  Our first WFTDA bout experience.  A huge deal as a skater to be a part of something so memorable.

Game three, one week later, we take on the Des Moines Dames, in Des Moines.  We were ready.  Fired up.  Ready to go.  We took win number three, after a physically tough game.  

Going into April.  We are off this weekend.  Ready for home bout number two.  April 9th we host the Kansas City Roller Warriors - Plan B.  This will be our first WFTDA league to host.  Also a big milestone.

I am still co coaching the line with Tyna.  It's going well.  We are very strong together.  We communicate with each other well.  We read each other.  Our strong points and weaknesses balance.  It's difficult being behind the line.  Always afraid to make the wrong call.  Send in the wrong combination.  Make a mistake.  Which unfortunately, sometimes happens.  We are human, it happens.  Like in Des Moines when I almost had a jammer call the jam when she wasn't lead.  Thankfully for me, she didn't see me telling her to call it.  However, I still think about it.  Feeling stupid.  Like I could have potentially had her sent to the box.  Really fucked things up.  I feel like a fish out of water behind the bench.  I know what I'm doing.  I know the game.  I understand the game.  I know the rules, the mindset.  I get it.  But I feel like I just don't fit "behind the bench."  I feel like a piece of my spirit is gone, left on the track.

I am taking it all in stride.  Getting closer to meeting with my surgeon for my last follow up appointment.  The follow up appointment that should either clear me to put my skates back on OR tell me that I still need to wait, keep doing more PT on my own.  Every time I think about that appointment I get excited.  My heart begins to race.  I smile from ear to ear thinking of getting into my skates and picking right back up where I left off.  Then second later I feel like I am going to vomit.  My eyes well with tears.  Fear overcomes every inch of my body.  What if they say I shouldn't skate.  What if they say I am clear and I'm too afraid?  What if I fuck up my knee again?  What if I get back on my skates and suck so bad no one wants me back on my skates?  What if I forgot everything?  Everyone else has far surpassed where I was eight L--O--N--G months ago.  I'm so behind, it's like I am staring all over again?  Will I ever get back where I was?  Will I ever be as good as they are now?  I'm so scared of what is to come.  Then aside from all that.  Not everyone in my life is super crazy about the idea of me putting the skates back on.  "Sugar Daddy" is supportive.  He says he backs me in whatever decision I make.  But there are a few that are not at all supportive of it.  Which will make it difficult as well.  

July 21st, 2010 broke my knee.  I will prove it didn't break my spirit.  I have to prove that to myself.