Derby Baby

I used to have a pair of those metal skates that I tied over my shoes when I was a kid in the seventies, rackety, useless things with hard wheels that juddered over every bump. Then when I was thirteen my birthday present was an amazing pair of blue and red roller boots. I skated with my mates up and down Lancashire terraced streets, and then after a year I stopped. My roller boots went to a jumble sale, and I never imagined that at thirty eight, I might be wanting another pair of skates.

A friend (Abby Dasher) asked me to come along to her first Zero to Hero session at MRD a year ago. I sat at the side of the rink, feeling too nervous to join in. To be honest, I thought NO WAY could I ever do that. Everyone looked tough and confident (and hot), even the beginners. They all seemed to be fearless skaters, not wavering when they were told to fall on both knees, or skid across the floor. And so comfortable in hot pants and crazy tights. I thought, WOW, I love it. But figured this was no place for me, with all these gutsy, sexy, confident women. Leave the building, I thought. Go home and write a poem, read a book, watch TV.

Abby went skating week after week, and kept saying COME, YOU WILL LOVE IT! I listened to her stories, saw her photos, admired her growing confidence. But still felt I was the wrong kind of girl for derby. Always the last to be picked for teams at school. Not a sporty girl, or competitive, in fact a bit of a wimp to be honest. Why would I want to bash into other people? And more importantly why would I let other people bash into me? And what if I fell...?

Yet, here I am. Searching on the internet for my first pair of derby skates, debating whether to get Anarchy pads or invest in some more expensive pads, and what kind of wheels do I want? I have a bruise on one side of my bum. It's the size of an apple. And on the other side, I have a set of bruises that look like stairs. I have sore shoulders from blocking in training, and my shins hurt.

I only signed up for the Zero to Hero training session, because Abby Dasher kept pestering me in a lovely way to DO IT, DO IT. I resigned myself to it. I sighed, and worked out that if I just tried it once, I would be able to say, no roller derby is NOT for me.

Only, there was something about that first session, all lined up along the wall with Tori Bee whizzing round us, telling us you can do it, You're all amazing... praising our awkward one knee falls and our nervous skating. And the others in the group, all looked to me from a distance like the most confident, gutsy women (and men) in the world, and even up close, they seemed tough and up-for-it, but when we got talking I found out most of them were nervous as well, a bit jittery or unfit, new to skating, or maybe scared of falling. We laughed when we got it wrong and tried again, and everyone encouraged everyone. And actually it was surprising that I enjoyed it so much.

So, I kept turning up. Me. In hot pants. Never thought I would see the day. In skates at nearly forty. Never thought I would love anything remotely like a baseball slide, or that I would laugh so much one session giving and receiving shoulder blocks while racing around the rink with Sledge Hannah, or that I might feel so proud of myself for improving my laps, moving from a first effort of 16 laps in five minutes to this week's 22 laps.

I'm not quite a Hero. I still have a lot of work to do and practice. I don't push myself as hard as some people. Yes, I want to graduate from Zero to Hero and get the chance to join MRD's new training team, the Rookie Monsters. I want to learn more about roller derby and how to play and maybe, perhaps if I psyche myself up for it play in a bout one day. But I have more personal reasons for coming to roller derby. This is why I keep coming...

... because, for many years, probably since school, I avoided team games and anything competitive because I was always one of the least strong, fast or capable. I was always seen by others as not being good enough to be in a team, or letting down a team that had to choose me. And now, I have the opportunity to take my time to be good, learn at my own pace and in my own way, without feeling as if other people think I'm crap or that I'm letting anyone else down.

I still have those little doubts sometimes that maybe everyone has about themselves, but I feel so much more confident... at everything, because I'm trying things I thought I was too scared and soft to do. I still don't like falling over, but I'm learning to pick myself up and carry on. I feel proud of my bruises sometimes, because they are a sign that I'm more confident and gutsy than I imagined. I feel more assertive but less angry. I throw a bit of the weeks frustration into a shoulder block and I get praised for doing it. I can see myself very slowly improving so that maybe next week, I might get 23 laps, or my laterals might get tighter and faster, and I might fall over and laugh.

It's hard to explain how important this is. I guess people have many reasons for starting roller derby. I started by accident, through persuasion, not really understanding the game or what I might benefit from it. I wasn't looking for it to change my life, but it already has because I've realised I'm tougher than I thought.