Here’s what I’ve done since I made the life changing decision of trying out for the roller derby. And since I’m taking this very seriously because I’m now obsessed with this potential outcome, I’m pulling all the strings to get my lazy ass in gear…
- Jan 26 received an email from the roller derby recruiter asking if I was seriously considering this
- Jan 26 I replied as long as they don’t brake my bones intentionally that yes, I am interested. I asked if I could get special treatment being that I’m a big nobody and skip out on waiting until the boot camp on Feb 21 since I change my mind constantly. She replied “that’s fantastic! see you on the 26”
- I drove out to the nearby TJ Maxx hoping to find a cheap pair of work-out shorts. Remember my small ass? A medium is too big, and that was the smallest size… So I bought a cool little hoody that will fit perfectly my uhm… ok, I really need work-out clothes.
- Drove to the BevMo (a cool concept in alcoholic beverage, kinda like the Wal-Mart of beverages) a roller derby chick needs plenty of liquids!
- Drove home. Totally exhausted. Plan to work out the next day. Drink 2 cosmos. Fall asleep watching the Olympics on TV. But mentally I’m totally there!
- Promise to self to totally work out. Total promise. I stick my head outside. Look at my bike waiting for me. Hoping to be taken out on a ride. I wink at the bike. Crawl back down stairs. I feel like a groundhog.
- Drive out to Target. They have great cheap work-out clothes. I walk by a cute couple. He tells me he digs my hat. I reply by telling him his dog is kick-ass. Seemed normal enough for a reply.
- Find a pair of shorts. They fit. They’re a tad bit baggy, but I’ll need space to put all those bulging muscles from all my working out. Which will start tomorrow. I promise. The cute couple (hmm, I’m now realizing they are homeless and I’m hoping they haven’t emptied out my truck) walk towards me and ask for spare change. I pull out a dollar bill hoping they’ll feel guilty enough to give me back my shit they took from my truck.
- I drive home and open up a beer as I munch on chips and salsa. Salsa provides me with at least 2 veggie portions for the day. And beer? I need plenty of hydration/carbs before tomorrow’s work-out.
- Friday I wake up smiling. I immediately grab my new shorts, pull on some work-out socks and my running shoes after I squeeze into my sport bra. Yes. I start to stretch and smell coffee. Of course hydration is key, as I’ve mentioned before. So I make myself a cup. A nice warm latte as I stretch my soon to be bulging muscles. And I run! Yes, I run. I run for at least 9-10 minutes. At which point I decide I better not overdo it and turn around to go back home. Also, any trainer will tell you the best thing for your heart is to change paces. So I walk a bit. But oddly enough I feel the timing is right to increase my pace when I cross old(er) people. Of course when I pass them I turn around and yell out “Booyah!”. I think it’s just common sense to let people know you’re going by them. I think I got at least 2 miles…
- I get home, stretch out again and show my stomach to Booby. He tells me it has shrunk since I started working out! God I love him. So I open up a beer. Hydration remember? I slowly walk out to the showers hoping to meet up with the squat lady so I can stretch my legs in her face. Sadly she is not there… Back home I do some internet research and email Peachy’s friend about the best way to be prepared for boot camp.
- She replies to find the biggest person I know and have him/her slam me down onto concrete pavement. I tell Booby we have to have sex, it’ll get me ready for boot camp. You know “do it for the team”.
- Saturday I am sore. Too much body slamming? The daily work out consists of harshly shaking my shoes overboard to get rid of the grass and dirt. I make pancakes. Carbs are essential to training.
- Sunday, well you all know I am a highly devoted catholic and, since I still haven’t found a good french catholic church in my neighborhood I decide to pray for a job, pray for my next work-out session and eat bacon. My little ass obviously needs it. I visit the swap meat, eat 2 carne asade tacos and carry my purchases everywhere. I’m conscious of my biceps as I carry my 3 oranges and 3 kiwi fruits. I growl at Booby who asks me to carry his new needle nose pliers in my bag. But I take it for the team… And carry everything. It’s part of my training I tell myself. Go home and pour myself a healthy glass of grape juice, I think the fermentation makes the grape calorie free. Not sure, but the French ARE on to something…
- And that brings us to today! So far I’ve replied to an offer for an interview, I’ve walked to the shower (walked there AND back), and I’ve taken 2 advils (I’m sure it’s good for my blood flow or eventual swelling).
Tomorrow is a new day and more running waits for me! The roller derby girls you will never know what hit them when I come sloshing in… I’m thinking I should be sponsored by Capt Morgan. Any takers?