Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The Attack of The Skittle

When playing a sport of any kind, most of us always factor in the chance of injury. It may not happen, but it certainly could. This risk you take, this chance of something happening, the what ifs, should not hold you back from competing to the best of your ability. Because in life, you could fall while walking out of your own front door.

I played a bout about a month ago. The Wicked Wheelers borrowed me as a skater when they played against the victorious Rolling Thundercats. It was tough. The packs were fast and the hits were hard. I had to keep on going though. That's just what you do when you compete. If you fall, you get up and you keep on going. At one point, I was pretty sure my thumb was broken and wondered how my shoulders and hips were going to feel when it was over. The bout ended and I was still in one piece.

I rolled my way over to the locker room and stumbled on a Skittle. This tiny little piece of candy sent my wheels spinning off the floor and down on my chin I landed. In the process, one of my knee pads slid to my shin and I banged up my knee. I was not, as the slogan says, tasting the rainbow. I couldn't believe it, I had just skated this rough bout and a Skittle brought me to my demise, or so I thought. But it wasn't over just yet though.

The next morning, I woke up, tired and dehydrated, with a few small bruises and soreness from the bout. Worse though, were my sore jaw and huge black and blue knee from the attack of the Skittle. I went out to meet up with my derby girl D-Ball. As I walked to her car, I tripped, twisted my ankle, went flying in the air and landed on the knee of one leg and the twisted ankle of the other. I was in excruciating pain. My knee torn open, blood gushing down it. My ankle a swollen mess. D-Ball, always there for me, helped me up, iced my ankle and gave me a special Greek ointment for my cut. I looked at D and saw the nervousness in her face, and deep down, I wanted her to laugh. I must have looked so funny flying through the air like that!

I was amazed at the irony of it all. I was hit hard by some really strong women, from left to right, then to the ground and even had some of them fall on top of me. But it was this tiny little piece of candy and my own two feet (which are also quite tiny) that ultimately caused my injuries.

Over the years I've come to realize that I've let fear hinder or blow my chances at some really great things in life. It's not always easy to battle through feelings of apprehension, but overcoming my fright, has taken me to some really, fantastic places, both physically and mentally. People have so many fears; Fear of commitment, fear of failure, fear of success, fear of falling, fear of flying, fear of moving on....etc. There are even the more obscure fears, such as Ablutophobia, fear of washing or bathing. These phobias rattle our brains and can sometimes get up in our thoughts causing us to create these insane defense mechanisms that even we ourselves don't understand. It's so easy to just want to flee, or to say no and not take a chance. You can sit there and "what if" all you want, but it's not going to move you forward on a positive path. It will however hold you back and send your mind into a whirlwind. Working through trepidation, those cold feet and cold sweats are really what's going to get you to where you truly want to be. Because from one day to the next, you really don't ever know what's to come. You might just as easily fall and break your leg getting out of bed as you could falling after you've skated through that rough pack, scoring the points that make your team the winners in the last jam of the bout.

Challenge yourselves, take one step over or even towards, one of those hurdles in your life. Who knows, you just might surprise yourself.


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I still say you can't trust the orange ones. Orange - only 2 shades, and one is burnt orange. It's really just a demoralized red. bane of poets and rappers. huge mistake pairing it with yellow or brown, you just look like a Brady Bunch era kitchen.
Hang tough -Scorp