I Miss You, Too

I'm all important and busy now, because of rollerderby. I simply don't have time for the readers of the world anymore, hence the failure to write over the last couple of months.

Couple of months?
Yeah, man.
It's not derby.
It's writer's block.
The way things usually shake down is that I get an imaginary conversation going in my head, or an idea that's one of those, "Man, it would be hilarious if____________" and then I write down that which I just thought of and then I pound it out here and then I tinker with it as I re-read it several time.
That used to happen 2 or 3 times a day.

It hasn't happened in forevers.

I'll think of something funny and then it's not that funny anymore.

Or I think of something funny and instead of jotting it down, I say it out loud to actual people, which is a massive change from most of the last couple of years when I was writing like crazy.

Maybe that's it; not so much that I'm busy with derby being the reason for the lessened instance of update but maybe that I am now doing the majority of my communication with actual living people who are standing next to me, and sometimes who have just knocked me into next week by hitting me super hard.

There's this sweet little angel, Bolshe Vixen. She's the kind of 20 year old that I love, in a completely genuine and unweird way. She's surly but composed and confident and hasn't lost the wonderful feeling that the world would cease to exist in its present state if she was not in it as fully as she is right now.
God I miss being 20 sometimes!

She's also a TRD coach and a heavy hitter in the league. She's smaller than me but she's fast and she's strong and she's, in my opinion, one of the best hitters in the league.

The long story short is that things are progressing nicely for me and I was ready for a real hit on Sunday night.
And this darling child sent me flying through the air.
I landed 20 feet off the track, slid for another 10 feet and truly felt like I had found God in that moment.

It was like coming home.

Luckily, we are trained within an inch of our bruised shins on falling. Over and over and over and then hey!
Falling Hell, left knee, right knee, double knee, figure four, three sixty, Falling Hell again! Fall, dammit! Fall!!!!!

The goal is to make in muscle memory and apparently, it is an effective style of training because let me be the first to say that never in my life leading up to this point would I have thought, "Someday, I am going to be on quad speedskates with tricked out wheels and when an adorable 20 year old comes striding toward me with the singular intention of body checking me as hard as she can, I will know EXACTLY what to do to not get hurt."

If there's not a metaphor in there somewhere than I'll be a horse's ass.
Which, suffice it to say that I can't find the metaphor right now, because of the writer's block and THAT, my friends, is why there's not much going on here lately.
And I agree, I miss it, too.

A lot.

arizonasarah at 8:11 a.m.

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