I couldn’t shake the nerves. I bent lower to tie my laces, eyes downcast, heart thumping a tattoo in my chest. Before me, on the track, they glided along like swans on the water; graceful, natural. Their speed was effortless, their movements fluid. I knew my own movement was ungainly, my speed non-existent, my balance intermittent at best. I watched as one girl spun around and in one seamless motion was skating backwards. I felt a knot in my stomach. What if I couldn’t even go forwards? I rolled a skate experimentally on the floor. Indoor boards were new. Indoor boards were slippery. Start slow, I told myself. Get a feel for the floor. Don’t be intimidated. Then, more forcefully, don’t make an idiot of yourself.

*   *   *   *

Back in January I went along to the first fresh meat intake session for 2013 being run by Adelaide’s mixed gender roller derby league, Light City Derby. I was terrified and no amount of smiling, welcoming faces could put me quite at ease. Two good skating buddies came with me, thank goodness, and we threw ourselves into the first session. It was challenging but it was rewarding. High on endorphins and inspired by what we saw around us, we stuck with it and went back the next week, and the next.

I watched myriad bruises blossom over my body, felt oceans of sweat pour down my forehead and back, and fought with my inner demons who insisted for weeks that I was wasting my time. I kept trying, listened to the words of encouragement from league members and tried to take on board every tip they could offer. At the end of ten weeks, I didn’t pass my skills test but ticked off more skills than I ever thought I could. But the experience of those ten weeks was more than ticks in boxes. People say roller derby has this strange power that reverberates through your life, making it more than a sport. My first fresh meat experience taught me some big lessons, and I think they’re lessons that can apply outside of derby too. I’m no derby expert, and not everyone’s experience would be the same as mine, but in ten short weeks, this is what it I learned:

1.       Falling down is a good thing

One thing that’s guaranteed in roller derby is that you will fall down. My first hurdle was letting it happen instead of freaking out and flailing my limbs around trying to stay upright. It was scary being so far outside of my comfort zone and knowing I could take a tumble and hurt myself trying to do something my skills weren’t quite up to. Despite this, I knew my skills would never be up to it if I didn’t try. It only took a few falls to realise that falling down wasn’t going to kill me, that I could pick myself back up, keep going, and get better.

2.       Don’t worry about what everyone else is doing

It took me ages to figure this one out. For the first few weeks I felt like I wasn’t keeping up. It seemed to me I was last to pick up baseball slides, slowest on track for endurance, completely unable to jump, while other Freshies were leaping tall buildings in a single bound. Finally, on the verge of quitting, I figured out what was wrong. I had been so worried about how I compared to others that I forgot to focus on developing at my own pace. No one was worrying about me. They were focusing on their own abilities, their own problem areas, mastering a new skill.

3.       No one will laugh at you for messing up

A lot of the training drills weren’t easy, and I usually felt out of my depth. At first it surprised me when I made mistakes and no one told me to give up and take up knitting instead. There were always people there to pick me up, dust me off, point out where I went wrong and encourage me to keep trying. After all, they had to start somewhere too.

4.       There is no substitute for practice

It seems an obvious thing to say, but roller derby really does give back what you put in. Weeks where I was short on practice time were more challenging than weeks where I made extra effort to get out and skate between training. Spending extra time on wheels was the best thing I could do.

5.       Asking for help is not a sign of weakness

Once I realised that no one was judging me harshly for not quite nailing crossovers yet, I discovered that if someone can do something and you can’t, chances are they will be more than happy to give you some pointers. They’re not trying to outshine you, and they won’t think less of you if you say, “I need help with that, can you show me?” They’ll more likely give you a pat on the back for wanting to learn.

6.       I can do stuff I didn’t think I could do

Here’s a secret. My worst enemy is not the blocker who I know is about to hip check me into next week. It’s me. I talk myself out of doing things all the time by assuming I’ll be bad at them. I’m uncoordinated, I’ll say. Not strong enough. Not a natural. What training showed me, was that I can do things. I can even do some of them well. And that’s with wheels strapped to my feet! What else have I been missing?

7.       Your muscles will love you for using them

Sure, they’ll scream at you the next day and you’ll hobble around the office or uni or home like a cowboy, but your muscles really love that you’re using them. I have a desk job, write a lot, and love a good book or movie. That’s a lot of sitting. I’ve never been sporty and don’t go to the gym. What that meant was my body really copped it when training started. But the sudden shift has made the difference I feel more noticeable. I’m fitter, happier, more productive (thanks, Radiohead!).

8.       Being surrounded by like minded, talented people is good for the soul

There’s nothing more satisfying than being surrounded by people who are on the same wavelength as you. You share a common interest and can giggle when you knock each other over. By far the best thing about roller derby so far, for me, has been the awesome people who make it happen. They are inspiring, supportive and fun, and work hard to make newbies like me feel welcome as they induct me into the derby world.

9.       Roller derby  is a totally awesome sport

Athleticism, major speed and cat-like agility. A fast paced game with hard hits and big falls. Clever names and fishnets. On wheels. What’s not to love?

10.   I am going to keep going

Really, as I went through the ten weeks of training, I ran the full gamut of emotions. I experienced phases of seeing improvement, of hitting a plateau, of completely screwing up, and of improving again; I’ve had low moments and I’ve had major boosts in confidence. I’ve spoken a lot in this post about the benefits of soldiering on, and I think that’s the point. Perhaps most importantly, I learned the benefit of pushing myself to keep going, and that’s what I intend to do. Roll on Fresh Meat v2.0!