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When life is good play derby, when life is hard play derby.
Easy enough to say - but it’s all about keeping the drive and the motivation to do it!

Roller derby takes a lot of time and commitment, which I didn’t realise when I first got involved in March of 2008. There are trainings and meetings to attend, not to mention social gatherings and fundraising events. And when it gets close to bout time... kiss goodbye any friends or family who are not involved with the league!

You’re not a fully fledged derby girl until you have a derby name and for me this has been a long time coming.

It’s been seven months, and over that time I’ve come up with some cool original names only to find out that someone had snapped that name up before me. I’ve tried out con vicious, concusser, and my personal favorite Evel Conevil, which I was gutted to find out was to similar to another derby girl in NZ. I had it all planned out with evel con evil and was going to have 151 as my number as that was the distance in feet that the crazy stunt devil made it across the fountains in front of Caesar's Palace before plummeting down and nearly killing himself. I think the original evel probably spent more time breaking bones then he did mending them, he was one amazing stunt man.

I’m a newbie to derby – Fresh Meat as we are officially called. Which conjures up the image of crafty gnarly lions awaiting their next meal of juicy steak! I guess that’s an incentive to join the pride or technically ‘pack’ in derby. Yes Siree learning derby is no picnic – first there’s the staying upright on your skates (tricky), then there’s the rules of the game (challenging), and taking the hits (breathtaking) but nothing is more baffling than the jargon – blockers, pivots, bout, jam, jammer panty (more on that later) and the very intriguing term ‘derby wife’.

One aspect of joining a DIY league like Richter City means a fair amount of commitment - and I'm not talking just training. When the first season of bouts was happening, us freshies were asked to pitch in and help get things running smoothly on the nights. I jumped in on the merch girl bandwagon - selling shirts, trucker caps, posters, badges and some sweet patches. Cheesy, but it was nice to feel involved and like I could do something. It's something I jumped in on again when we were at Blood and Thunder camp - and it was a great way to get our league out there to the diverse crowd of derby girls and punters alike.

I am a child of the eighties. Cabbage patch kids, Michael Jackson bubble gum cards, Madonna, Garbage pail kids, K.I.T.T.

One Christmas somewhere between ’85 and 87’, Santa bought me a beautiful pair of yellow and blue roller skates. They were amazing. I spent hours and hours skating on our driveway. And then, I grew out of them and Santa never bought me another pair.

18ish years later I started to see and hear of roller derby leagues in the states. Eventually I hear of some derby enthusiasts in little ole’ NZ and discover some leagues starting up around the country. My little sister joins one in Christchurch immediately. Still….. I ‘m not yet ready. In fact, lets be honest, I am a pussy. I don’t like to be hurt, and I don’t like confrontation. And lets face it, there is a bit of a difference between skating in your driveway as an 8 year old to skating with fully grown women clad in fishnets trying to STOP you skating!

2009….. a little bored, all my friends are settling down and having children and, after speaking to my sister – who was bouting overseas in Melbourne and loving it – I decided to re-evaluate the fact that I’m still a pussy at age 30 and though I may have been staring down the barrel at a mid-life crisis, it was time to give derby a go. My sister was quite supportive which in itself is a surprise as she’s never been overly encouraging.

I found the Richter City freshmeat and greet was on the next night. And, in the effort of trying something new and to not be afraid, I went a long.

6 months and I haven’t missed a training yet and it’s all in the hope that one day I’ll be awesome on my skates or I can die trying. To me life is all about challenging yourself if you don’t challenge yourself life just gets boring.

Last year I ran my first ever half marathon crossing that finish line was the biggest achievement ever for me because I’m the type of girl that cant run 2 minutes down the road without getting the stitch or gasping for air. So after completing something I thought I’d never do I was ready for my next challenge. Reading an article about Richter City Roller Derby, a group of Wellington girls who started a Wellington roller derby league I knew this was something I definitely wanted to be apart of.

So I strapped on the old faithful skates that I hired from upper hutt, which had probably seen more feet then a podiatrist with a foot fetish. After my first experience on skates in about 18 years I was quite impressed that I managed to stay on both feet the whole time. Its amazing how quickly it comes back to you guess its like riding a bike, its something you never forget.

Last night, I passed up a big work shindig in favour of going to derby training. Now, we're not talking regular after work drinks on a Friday... this was a no holds barred casino night, complete with high roller gaming tables, costumes, a free flowing champagne tower and a g-e-n-uine crooner. Normally, I'd be one of the last sad cases left at the end of the night, demanding the dj play the theme song from Dirty Dancing.

But this particular Friday, I gave that all up so I could go skating. Very out of character! And it got me thinking about why I love going to training so much.

Let me tell you straight - I've never liked sports, and I've never been good at sports. And while I'm not overweight, I've never been that happy with my body either. I was first attracted to playing derby by the image of being tough and feminine at the same time, the clever pseudonyms and probably because no one else I knew was doing it, so I could be that kinda weird girl at work who went roller skating ("what? not rollerblades?!").

Every woman who plays derby will probably tell you the same thing; you discover that it's so much more than that. Through learning derby, I've befriended amazing women who I probably wouldn't otherwise ever meet. I've become fitter and stronger, and I've been way outside my comfort zone.

But my biggest realisation is that for the first time in my life, I'm not worried about being skinnier or fixing things that are 'wrong' with my figure. I can now appreciate my unique strengths, accept my shortcomings, and like my body exactly how it is - an ass that stops people getting past me, hips that can knock them over, feet trained in corporate high heels that can run on toe stops...

Freshmeat, huh? Great image: glistening, fresh, bloody and raw. Quite apt really. As one of the 20 who signed up for the inaugural Freshmeat course, I was ready for action and we got three full hours of it every Sunday.

Having been nervous after watching my first bout, there was no way I was going near the game until I felt comfortable. It was a relief to know there was no way I would be ALLOWED until the league coaches confirmed I was safe enough to - I can't think of anything worse than a newbie taking to the track and getting injured straight off the bat just because they didn't know what they were doing. Well, the newbie being me would be worse...so this course was looking to be an answer to my fears. We hit the basics. I'm talking stops, falls, skate form, crossovers, blocking, taking a hit and learning some rules. Talking derby.

Six weeks of training - the hours were packed with skills, drills and bruises. Yeah, I could have said spills but I don't feel like turning this into a rhyme fest. I think I'll leave that to the rest. They'd do it best. Fuck. Anyway. It was daunting going into the course knowing we had a skills test at the end of it - six weeks didn't seem long enough. Bunches of us were heading out to the raceway in Porirua on Tuesdays for extra practice, and mixing it in there with the league helped big time - a chance to practice form, speed, endurance and general stability, plus learn a few new skills before trying them at Freshmeat. A good opportunity to make up for the time I turned up to Freshmeat horrendously hung over - never again...although on the upside, I didn't feel like hurling unless I stopped skating, so there was an added incentive to just keep pushing through...

So, I was reading articles online to procrastinate from the mundane job that was slowly killing me when I came across this.

A wee flicker of excitement lit up. A quick Google search whipped it into a frenzy, as I found the Richter City Roller Derby site. This amazingness was in Wellington too. Argh! Further scanning revealed a Freshmeat and Greet was happening the following evening, so it seemed luck was on my side. (In all honesty, if it had been in a week or so, my initial enthusiasm probably would have been worn down by self-doubt and "reality checks" that would have me believe it was a stupid thing to look into, I could never do it and to just move on.)

I talked myself into it. I turned up, and it wasn't scary. Okay, it was a little scary - but mainly because I don't usually turn up to bars and sit with random people to talk about a random sport I know nothing about.

But the girls were great. Welcoming and friendly, they answered my stupid questions,and told me anyone could give it a go. They enlightened me that this was one sport where my childbearing hips would come into their own; my legs would span a track and being solid would come in handy. So, somehow I found myself at Cheapskates the next afternoon, buying the cheapest pads out so that I was further committed to turning up on the Saturday to try out the Upper Hutt skate rink.

I'd never been on roller skates before, so this was a whole new world to me - but I was up and skating, with the walls to cling onto when I wanted to slow down...and some of the league girls on hand to give me

I just want to write this bit down, because it scares me a little: I voluntarily ran today. And not just for the bus! Oh no. I ran for fitness. I think we should pause now while I resuscitate anyone who has known me any time at all. Because - I have always hated running. I've hated it ever since I was made to run around and around endlessly for the sick amusement of teachers at the primary school cross country event. And I hated it when I was playing Danish rounders or Kiwi Cricket on the field. And then, at secondary school, I hated it when we were made to participate in the Beep Test. Consider this litany of hatred merely "Ginger Hates Running: The Early Years", because many years of hating running followed. Suffice to say: I HATE RUNNING.

And yet today, there I was! Running to the Waterfront in a perky little hoodie, a woolly hat on my head and listening to Joan Jett/The Yeah Yeah Yeahs/Peaches. Woo! Go lady type! With your Athleticism! Athlete! Woo! Yeah! and such like.

what is the difference? The difference, esteemed and beloved reader mine, is LOVE. I fucking LOVE DERBY. Since I have been Loving Derby, I have seen the point of fitness and improving strength and building core mass. For the first time in my life, I get all of that stuff. I'm the fittest I've ever been and I want to be stronger, faster, have better balance and flexibility, hit harder. I've gone from a standing start and it's taken so much work and I'm so proud of myself for how far I've come in such a short amount of time. It was worth making a dick of myself and hurting myself repeatedly, and I'm stoked I stuck with it though there has been periods where I was feeling unbelievably frustrated at my (lack of) progress.