but not often, actually.

It was, as I predicted, my endurance, or, rather, lack thereof, that freaking killed me in assessments on Tuesday. My everything hurts. Really, everything. All of the “muscles” in my thighs are on fire and strangely my lower back on my right side. I strained some muscles in my right arm in that bout where I busted open my face so I refrained from giving/taking hits on my right side. I took a bajillion on my left though and have a nice bruise forming. It was assessments, and we derby folk encourage each other so I kept telling my assessment partner that she wasn’t hitting me hard enough . . . yeah, but she really wasn’t and I wanted her to do well. I was okay with being the punching bag because she hit the floor at least 8 times. (Unfortunately it wasn’t from my power hits, but I’m still going to take partial credit for it – for being a little sneaky and unsteady and tripping people without officially tripping them. But I never fell. I took dozens of hits and never once fell down, stay low, my friends.). Anyway, I avoided taking hits on that side (and, ok, I did throw a few shoulders in with my hip checks), but I did still really irritate my right arm injury. And, no, it wasn’t with contact, it was flinging my arms in the air after I jumped my first obstacle. A tiny tiny, uber-low-to-the-ground obstacle, but an obstacle none the less. I realized I can’t jump things without throwing my arms up in the air. I found this out when on the next lap while cradling my right arm like it was in a sling I attempted the jump and knocked the tiny, almost-flat, cones askew and fell on my face. Yep.

I also managed at some point to do that thing where your feet fly up in the air and you land on your tailbone. Ow. It’s funny, because you think, oh, skating, I’m going to fall on my butt, but I very rarely fall on my butt. I fall everywhere else. Thank god for 187 Killer Pads – they’re like clouds. I’m team Pro-Knee all the way.

I know this is an uber-derby post, but my week has been uber derby. I also did about 1000 hours of transcription for a focus group on the usability of our new library catalog search, but that’s less exciting.

One of my colleagues sent me this link, this article is amazing. I don’t know how many people live in both academia and roller derby, but this article is absolutely right on. I want to hang out with this author and practice tomahawks together.

Academia vs. Roller Derby, By Minerva Cheevy
http://chronicle.com/blognetwork/researchcentered/2011/12/05/academia-vs-roller-derby/

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it would have covered the cost of my coffee run this morning.

Yeah, so I don’t have THAT many half-written blog posts, but I have more than I should.

Oh, I also got a muffin so that changes things.

Those of us living on a college schedule are rapidly approaching the end of the year. Well, I guess all of us are, since December is three days away, but the end of the year is sooner for college folks. College folks who should be able to write better sentences than that . . .

The end of the year around here means assessment time! While we really do light assessment all year, the day of reckoning is upon us. We have our yearly evaluations coming up. It’s pretty intense. I need to review all the instruction statistics to make sure that no one’s numbers are off. Although, really I just check mine, because I will undoubtedly hear from the rest of the team if there is a discrepancy – which is nice. I like working with such diligent folks.

This month is actually dual assessments for me as I’m also taking my first crack at assessments for roller derby. I joined a rec team three months ago, and this is my first chance to step up to the traveling team. I planned on being ready in six months, but here we are at three, and I feel pretty good, so we’ll see what happens. If it’s anything like the hellacious practice we had last week then I may not be blogging for a long time, because I will probably die. I was literally splayed out on the floor. I don’t splay much. I’m most concerned about my endurance. I understand all of the things I need to do; it’s just getting my body to listen to my brain or getting my brain to shut up and let my body do its job.

I’m a little rusty. I haven’t been on skates much since I bust my face open during the first ten minutes of my first exhibition bout. Yeah . . . I’m not the best player on the team. My three-sport-playing brother has enjoyed vacillating between mocking and supporting me. When he first heard about my endeavor he said, “when I think of you, Lea, I think ‘natural athlete'”. His level of sarcasm nearly reached my own. He learned from the best.

The wrong kind of shiner

The RIGHT kind of Shiner

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