Posts tagged fight club

Monday, March 3 & Tuesday, March 4

Monday, March 3

  • 20 minute ab/arm workout w/ Misto (this sounds like NBD.  it was.)
  • 2 hr Misto practice
  • 1 hr TT32 practice

Tuesday, March 4

  • 1 hr spin class.  2 spring tabatas. 

sooooo… tired.   have only had 2 glasses of wine this week.  

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Sunday, March 2

  • 1hr Fight Club Practice
  • 1hr Travel Team Scrimmage

In semi-related news, Uber Alice has agreed to be my fitness accountability buddy.  I’ve been trying to work out w/ Misto for two weeks to no avail (we’re both busy) but apparently so has Cass.  So I may try working out w/ Cass instead…  

I other semi-related news…  I’m going to seriously try to limit my alcohol intake…  I drank waaaaayyyy too much last week.  

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Negative Nancy vs. Positive Polly

Attitude is everything.

A bad attitude will make a difficult situation worse, while a positive attitude can transform a situation.  Many travelers are stuck at DIA right now.  Those looking at the delay as an adventure will have a much more positive experience than those complaining about it.  Complaining that your child has nothing to do and is cranky and misbehaving will only put both parent and progeny into a bad mood.  Instead…explore the airport.  Play hide and seek… make an adventure of the delay. You’ll still be exhausted, but in a better much better mood than the parent who nags his/her child all day to “behave.”  (Who said sitting quietly in a chair waiting patiently was “behaving,” anyway?  Children are loud and messy, trying to make them anything but is like trying to make a fish climb a tree.)

I’m on this positive kick, I have been for a while.  I understand transforming everything into sunshine and rainbows is beyond annoying–nauseating, even.  In college, a girl on my floor had been overprescribed Prozac (or some similar mood-altering drug.)  Her sunshine and rainbows and smiles made me sick; I loathed her.

When people talk shit about us, our defense is: they are jealous.  They say mean things because they are unhappy about themselves.  Negative Nancy is the same.  I know because I default to Negative Nancy.  When I am upset, when I am sad, when I am angry, when I am hurt, I become Negative Nancy.  In college those first few months: Negative Nancy.  This whole past two months: Negative Nancy. And I haven’t enjoyed being myself, so I can imagine it’s been a chore to be around me as well.

Enter: Positive Polly.

I forced myself to focus on the positive by publicly pointing out amazing things RMRG skaters do at scrimmage or practice…  it really took off.  Everyone thinks it’s really cool I do that, a few others have started doing it themselves, etc.  I actually won an award for it at Prom–kind of embarrassing, since I feel like a fraud.  It was the “fuzzy kitty” award for being warm and fuzzy.  All I was doing was forcing myself to look on the bright side.

Anyway, my point is: it’s not easy or natural to be a Positive Polly.  At least not for me.  But…  people really like Positive Polly.  Plus, Positive Polly has way more fun!  She looks at every situation as an opportunity or an adventure, not as a chore to get through.

Saturday night, the World were Positive Polly’s.  And we scored 68 points to Fight Club’s… 18?  in the first few minutes of that scrimmage.  That was incredible!  How was that even possible?  Anything is possible for Positive Polly.  Nothing is easy… but it’s possible.  Keeping a positive attitude in the eventual 420-100 point beat down was challenging.  And there were moments where we lost our cool, but we clung to our positivity as a child to his blankie, and we scored 100 points.  Against Fight Club.  And that was pretty awesome.  And totally thanks to Positive Polly (even if she is annoyingly nauseating and sugar coated.)

So.  The lesson I learned this weekend is: Positive Attitude.  Always look on the bright side of things.  And when negativity starts clouding your focus… force it.  Force a smile on your face, say something nice to someone, and make yourself be positive.  You’ll feel much better about the situation, yourself, and… everyone else will appreciate it, too.

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Breaking Point

Food:

  • 2 egg muffins, coffee with sugar free caramel macchiato creamer, banana? 
  • 6 Clif Shot Bloks (2 servings)
  • beer
  • Cheesy Penne with Broccoli, white wine
  • NACHOS!!!  Red Wine.
  • Red Wine.
  • the rest of the heart chocolates
  • some dove dark chocolates
  • Probably more red wine.

Exercise:

  • 50 toe push ups
  • 50 sit ups
  • scrimmage
  • Reilly walk

So I hit my breaking point yesterday.  Which is probably a good thing, because maybe now I can finally move forward.  I’m proud of how I played yesterday.  I made lots of stupid mistakes, for which I have lots of stupid justifications.  But I played my hardest, and I only gave up when I had to (and there were a couple of times my legs were so fatigued I had to give up.)  I literally left it all on the track.  More than once.  

Yes, I had three(ish) very stupid cuts.  I’m sitting here visualizing them.  Why?  I need to focus on what I did well.  Those three cuts were the result of my body not reacting as quickly as my mind.  My legs were lead.  

Ever lit a real fire?  Like when you camp?  At the end of the night, the wood has burned and you’re left with wood coals?  The dying embers of the fire?  You blow on them and they ignite, only to burn out more thoroughly?  

That was my legs yesterday.  But I kept blowing on them and telling them to light it up again, and they did.  There were two times my legs were lead and I gave up.  My first jam and my last jam.  Even though it was physical… it was mental.

My first jam was two jams, since I went to the box.  And both jams were identical: I fought and fought and fought at the front and was stuck, stuck, stuck, until I broke through after the Fight Club jammer (first Cass, then Alpha.)  Both jammers played “eat the baby” on me.  I cut Cass.  I don’t remember what happened with Alpha.  I remember getting hit out and ending up at the back of the pack behind Queen.  I tried getting by her once or twice and couldn’t, so I gave up and rolled there for maybe 3 seconds before the jam clock expired.  Then I cried a lot.  

It was just like… I’m almost there, almost there, almost there, then I got out and was pulled back in.  Fuck.  It’s how I feel about the whole situation.  It was a physical manifestation of my mental state.  Except that I gave up at the end.  And sometimes I wonder why I don’t give up for real.  Mostly I have.  If I’m not going to get there, what am I fighting for?  And I don’t think I’m going to get there, so…  I’m lost.  Jamming the first and second jam against Fight Club–ten fresh Fight Club skaters, all after me. (And they were, since both jammers pulled an “eat the baby.”) WTF did I think would happen?  I did great.  I fought and fought and fought and made those girls work to hold me.  Ok, I never got out.  But I literally left it all on the track.  Physically, emotionally, I left it all there.  And then I went back and did it again.  And that time, I did get out, and there was no baby eating (though they tried.)  

The last jam…  I cut Cherry.  Stupid.  I was on a power jam and doing great, loving life, when I felt my legs go “FUCK YOU, MENACE!” and I went “shit.”  Mentally, I gave up.  Cherry hit me out and I cut her.  Even if the Apex is a bitch for cutting, I should know better.  I do.  I was jumping back in bounds as she was rolling back, and my legs were tired and my attempt to stay out of bounds when I saw her rolling back was ineffective.  So I went to the penalty box and proceeded to have an asthma attack.  So I took my helmet off.  For which I was scolded.  I know I’m not supposed to do that.  I’d already caused one scene Sunday, I didn’t need to cause another.  Options were: puke, pass out, or take my helmet off so I could breathe. I chose oxygen and I chose correctly.  And I put my helmet back on as soon as I could breathe.   Safety, first, right?  Even when you’re the jammer and safety means a two minute jammer penalty.  

So, yes, a dramatic Sunday.  

Saturday, I’m going to do it again.  In a public, hour long Fight Club vs. The World scrimmage, I will jam for the world.  And I won’t get out, and I won’t score, and it will be okay because I will leave it all on the track.  Except next time, I’ll leave it all on the track in a “fuck yeah, bitches!” way instead of a sobbing in the corner way.  

 

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If my journey were “Lord of the Rings,” this is the part where they are walking, walking, walking… walking, walking, walking…

Food:

  • Honey Nut Cheerios w/ 1% milk, banana, coffee, caramel macchiato sugar free creamer
  • Greek Yogurt w/ fruit and granola, apple
  • …  four mini old fashioned glazed donuts.
  • turkey and tons of swiss on wheat with Crystal Light and Cottage Cheese.
  • … the rest of the work dove dark chocolates
  • mini twix & dark milky way
  • salmon and reduced fat cream cheese with cucumbers on wheat thins
  • … the rest of the dark chocolate reese’s
  • Cliff Shot Bloks
  • Luna Bar
  • Veggies and Hummus.
  • … the rest of the cherry cordial ice cream…

Exercise:

  • 50 toe pushups
  • 50 sit ups
  • 3hr practice

So.  On the bright side: I finished most of the bad food that I’ve been stuffing my face with. Unfortunately, there’s still some Dove Dark Chocolates at home.  And people have been giving me Valentine’s candy.  Eventually, though, if I stop buying it… I’ll stop eating it.  Maybe.

I was going to get up early and go to Spin yesterday morning since I haven’t been in two weeks?  Yeah.  Didn’t happen.  Partly cuz I didn’t wanna, and mostly cuz the guy who was gonna cover the library never got back to me…  Maybe when I start going again, I’ll stop stuffing my face with everything and start feeling better.

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The rest of this is me whining.

I sat in the Port-a-Potty and cried yesterday.  Couldn’t suck ’em back any longer.  That was a first.  And hopefully a last.  Crying in the bathroom?  Ok.  Crying in a PVC outhouse filled with excrement?  Yeah.  That’s a new low.

So I’m kind of back to what Bob asked me a long time ago.  What do I love about derby?  What has me driving 45 minutes each direction during rush hour and blizzards and traffic when there are other things to be doing three times a week?

It’s hard.  But I always manage to succeed.  I work hard and I do well and I’m a fucking badass on that track.  And Roller Derby is a badass sport.  And I have badass friends who I’m constantly so impressed by and proud of.

Except… this time it was hard.  And I failed.  This is so hard to admit, but maybe it will help me let go.  In August/September…  my name came up.  For Fight Club.  As a fleeting “now that we have 18, we could…”  And obviously nothing came out of that.  But I heard about it.  And laughed.  Then heard about it again, and it was pointed out to me that with two skaters leaving and one out for six months…  oh.  So I got my shit together.  The one goal of that entire 3.5 month TBT: if I’m going to be on Fight Club, I have to do RMRG proud.  Because that is what RMRG deserves.  If it’s going to be me, I’m going to be the best me I can be.  And I was.  I rose to that challenge.

It just turns out the best me wasn’t good enough.  And RMRG didn’t want me anyway.  At first, I thought we were wrong to put 20 skaters above me.  But now.  I wonder how I even managed to be considered in the first place.

So… even if I failed…  I still got a lot out of that first TBT.  I look better.  I feel better.  I am skating better.  Right now I’m failing at this second TBT.  Tomorrow we’ll be halfway through.  I need to suck it up and own this second half.  Even if I’m not one of RMRGs best 20 skaters…  I need to be the best skater I can be to set an example for the newbies.  To represent RMRG well when the Contenders go forth into the world.  Etc.  So I should sack up.

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Mojo

Food: (Haven’t been using Fitbit to track food lately…)

  • Honey Nut Cheerios, 1% milk, banana, coffee, sugarfree hazelnut creamer
  • Apple, Greek Yogurt w/ fruit and granola
  • 1% cottage cheese, ham and provolone on wheat (w/o condiments, b/c condiments are evil.)
  • Chocolate Coconut cake (which I also forgot to list yesterday–my “Colin Mom” goody of the week.)
  • Naked Green Machine w/ Greek Yogurt, Honey, and Whey Protein.
  • PIZZA.  and WINE.

Exercise:

  • Short Reilly Walk
  • 73 Toe Pushups (23 uh…  hand release? push-ups @ practice)
  • 73 Situps (25 crunches, 25 cobras, 23 full-out sit-ups)
  • 2 hr league practice
  • 30 minute scrimmage w/ FC vs. Hoods
  • 30 minute FC drill (holy exhaustion, btw.)

I’m not being a very consistent non-TBTer so far this round.  Basketball is keeping me from exercising as much as I like, I’m eating bleh, I’m not using Fitbit to it’s potential in terms of tracking my caloric intake, I’m not even blogging consistently, etc.  I have done my pushups and situps almost every day, though, and I think I’m seeing results. (At the very least I can do 25-30 pushups w/o needing to rest.)  Time will tell.

Yesterday my “monthly gift” arrived.  Thank mother nature.  Holy shitballs.  I’m definitely more… ah… chill… than even yesterday morning.  Still a bit crazy, but hey.

Practice.  We did stuff I’m good at, so that was cool…  and then despite not originally being invited to participate in the FC/Hood scrimmage during TT practice time, the Conts had a last minute invite so most of us skated.  That was cool.  And fun.  And surreal.  And then we did a four-wall w/ a jammer trying to break through drill…  when it was my turn to jam I could hear myself wheezing.  I may actually be related to Darth Vader.  That’s what I sounded like.  It’s exhausting doing that any time, but against four FCers…  Um.  Yeah. But I didn’t give up.  For two whole minutes.  And I think I got by once… and around/through most of them a couple times…  so that was cool.  I guess.

I think it’s pretty clear Evals have been really tough for me.  I really hate being on the committee.  It’s like…  it was hard not making Contenders, and then when I made it, I felt soo much pressure, and realized it’s even harder actually making it.  And then Evals are hard not knowing, right?  Yeah.  1,000x worse knowing.  OMG.

Anyway.  I had two emails this week out of the blue from super awesome skaters telling me to keep my chin up, that I’m doing great.  And of course you guys have been saying that same thing for weeks…  it’s just cool.  My favorite part of derby is how we all take care of each other. It’s evals and we all want the same thing but we support each other in our own goals rather than being negative-ly competitive.  You know?  It’s not just what people are saying to me, but what I’m seeing on the track and in people’s actions and demeanor.  I can look at two girls who I know are fighting for the same spot, who I know realize they are fighting for the same spot, and I can see them cheering each other on, and doing everything they can to help the other girl succeed.

Basically: derby girls are fucking awesome.  (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QK8mJJJvaes)

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Ouch

Food: Way the fuck over

  • Honey Nut Cheerios, 1% milk, coffee, sugar free hazelnut creamer
  • Cafeteria biscuit w/ gravy (sooo salty), clementine, VitaRain Zero
  • Apple, 1% milk, natural PB & simply J on wheat.  2 homemade bran muffins
  • Curry Chicken Noodle leftovers from Tuesday
  • No Bake Energy Bite, most of a Naked Protein Shake
  • Snap Peas, Hummus, Red Wine

Exercise:

  • 50 toe push ups
  • 50 crunches (25 regular, 25 cobra)
  • 30 min scrimmage
  • 2 hr. Gaygan practice
  • 1 hr. FC practice

I’m down on life again.  Maybe I am S.A.D.  You know, Seasonal Affective Disorder, people who are sad in January.  Maybe it’s PMS.  I don’t fucking know.  Anyway.  I was mopey and craving Biscuits and Gravy from the cafeteria.  Got them.  Totally worth their salty delicious 500+ calories.  Lunch–Colin’s mom sent homemade bran-ish muffins.  I had two, even though they were from Monday and not as delicious as they could have been.  Walked Reilly, ate some leftovers, left early for practice.

It’s sort of fucked up.  I leave half an hour early and I get to practice at the same time.  Traffic.  Ugh.  Scrimmaged for 30 mins.  I pulled my left ass check.  It hurt the rest of practice.  Gaygan practice–100 laps.  I dropped out at 60.  I just don’t have the mental toughness to push through right now.  My back only started hurting at 60, which is pretty fucking good (it usually hurts around 30 and I suffer through til around 70-80.)  My legs were also super tired.  And my butt cramp.  And I was doing the hyperventilating thing and having a hard time breathing again.  Otherwise… practice was good…ish…I think.

Then Travel Team (Fight Club) practice 8-9pm.  I don’t know how to explain that despite being re-christened “Travel Team” practice, Wednesdays are so clearly “Fight Club” practice still.  I was exhausted.  I had most of an Energy Bite and most of a Protein Smoothie thing and we rolled around hitting each other and doing the flippy spinny thing.  I like flippy spinny.  I’m decently good at flippy spinny.  We practiced pairing and dropping back after hitting a jammer out–the partner who hadn’t done the hitting–basically exactly what Quigley did to me last weekend.  But I was so exhausted.  Die told me after Monday that I need to stop and turn around quicker.  So naturally during this drill my stopping and turning around was ridiculously slow.  I had partnered w/ Eve and Cass.  Cass is freaking amazing.  I’d barely dropped back five feet before she was back in bounds and I was clockwise blocking her.  She was also really encouraging, reminding Eve and I we were almost done, to speed up, etc.  I like Cass.  I fell on my bum knee.  It hurts today.

Drove my miserable sorry ass home and decided I wanted to sit up for a bit and drink a glass of wine.  I haven’t been sleeping.  Derby thoughts keeping me awake.  The wine (and muscle relaxor) totally helped.  But this morning I’m sleepy and groggy and blaaah again.

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