*blue balls not included.
I’m one week into Fresh Meat August, and I am so thrilled — no, seriously. I’ve been gushing like a mad person about roller derby. I’ve been pushing myself out of my comfort zones pretty fierce, so I’m aching like an old lady over here. But everything is getting better — including my speed and a total comfortability on my skates. I think I’ve finally mastered a plow stop, and I make crossovers my bitch.
And my pads smell something rank.
Boyfriends think this is sexy. *snort*
We’ve been working on a lot of endurance building, general skating and stopping skills and falls. We even worked on jumps and leaps on Sunday. And I’m plum pooped out by the end of practice.
I cannot wait until we start with hitting drills. I am a sincere masochist in that I cannot wait to be hit by one of the BRRG.
But maybe at 50% to start.
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This blog is about pursuit: a transplanted Clevelander (me) in a new city (that's you, Pittsburgh!), pursuing the role of a self-employed copywriter, becoming a roller derby badass and somehow merging all my to-do items into one ever-growing Bucket List.
And of MY boyfriend. His blue balls started this mess.
