She just couldn’t shake the feeling of deja vu. She knew she had been here before. But, no, this was a new place, unfamiliar to her even in its painful familiarity. It had never felt like this. She had never seen these places, these people.
She kept her head down and moved quickly. Darting past beautiful cathedrals, missing the sunlight glistening off the top of a gold-domed building in the distance. Missing everything that wasn’t rushing past under her feet – filth, decay, the occasional dead bird or other wildlife. She missed the birds silhouetted in front of a sunset that would have made Van Gogh weep.
She was terrified of looking up. Looking up meant facing. Facing meant acknowledging. Acknowledging meant admitting.
She rushed through the crowded streets, eyes down, alone only in her own mind. Her friends were with her. The “her” she took great pains to show them, anyway. The her who didn’t need anybody or anything. The her who feigned confidence, never doubted her intelligence, always knew the right thing to say or how to play off saying the wrong thing. The her that wasn’t locked away.
It wasn’t sustainable. She couldn’t live forever as a tourist in her own life, never knowing who she really was, her potential. She knew that. It scared her more than anything ever had.
How could she be herself when she knew that who she was, was not even close to who she pretended to be?
She took a deep breath, lifted her head, and looked herself in the eye.
No. You’re wrong. Just stop.
So, here’s a picture of what the current hair looks like:
Yeah. I know. Adorable, right? It’s really quite a fun hairstyle.
You know what *else* is adorable? This:
In other news, I was drafted to a home team with ARRG – the M-80s. Erica is on the Rebel Skate Alliance (yay, nerds!). The home season opener was last weekend, and of course we had to play against each other, right off the bat. The Mateys won 231-86. Erica did a REALLY good job jamming.
As in, the ones I’ve not done for the past ten days. After running consistently since May, I ended up damaging myself a tiny little bit at practice. Nope, not from some awesome hit that someone put on me.
I hurt myself trying to do a figure skating move that the awesome Dirty Deborah Harry taught at RollerCon 2013.
It’s called a three turn, and this kid makes it look easy:
Well… I got stuck. I could not for the life of me make my body actually turn around. And so I got tangled up in my own feet and fell. Plop.
The next day, I made my way through four miles. Even though I couldn’t get my breath very well. Which I then decided was dumb. So I took a break.
And then I got a cold/flu thing and couldn’t get out of bed for a week!
So. That running thing. Monday is going to be my first day back. I’m actually excited about it!
Which worries me for other reasons.
So… It’s been more than three months since I last blogged.
Here’s what’s changed:
- I got my hair cut. No, like, really cut. Pixie. Short.
- I moved to Saint Louis.
- I play roller derby for the Arch Rival Roller Girls.
- I’ve been running quite a bit. Well, I’m running around 15 miles weekly. Not a lot for some, but more than I typically run, for sure. That’s going up every couple of weeks due to following a prep plan for a half marathon.
- Doctor Donna got bigger.
I’ve been helping coach Sin City’s current fresh meat class since February. I love those girls. They never cease to amaze me. They get better, like, every practice. They’re encouraging of one another. It’s really wonderful to see.
They take skills next week.
After practice last night, they were asking questions about evals and what happens next. What happens? You are no longer a freshie. You go to FAST practice. You start scrimmaging.
And I teared up talking about it.
What. Who am I?
I am SO proud of those girls and everything they’ve accomplished.
No, this isn’t going to be a philosophical post about overcoming adversity or being better than you ever thought you could be.
Or maybe. But mostly it’s just this: