WTF Happend?

It’s derby season again.

I’m stronger. I’m more stable.  I’m slightly more agile.

I’m better at the beginning of this year than I was at the end of last year.

Also, I never ever see myself from a profile.

So when I saw pics from the 2nd and 3rd bouts of the year… there’s a LOT of side shots.  And because we were short benched… There’s a LOT of me.

And when I saw them… I saw something totally different than what anyone else sees.

You see, they all see me from the side on a regular basis. They know how I look.

These pictures… people commented things like “You look so powerful in this picture!”

And all I see is.. HOLY FUCKING FAT ROLLS!

I’ve got the star on my head in the pic on the left and I’m the one with all the rolls on the right.

I’m wedding dress shopping (wedding is just over a year away) and I hate everything.  Ok, maybe hate is too strong of a word.  But I’m not happy with any of them. I haven’t yet put on a dress and thought “This makes me feel beautiful.  This is the one”

And now I know why.

Because no matter how I hide it… the ROLLS are always there.

They prevent me from loving my body and pictures of me in action.

They prevent me from loving the dresses I’ve tried on (which I’m not going to post pictures of here, because the Sexxy Chef reads this on occasion.)

They prevent me from being happy.

I read somewhere (if I’m feeling ambitious later I’ll look up the research and cite something in a comment) that excess fat leads to excess estrogen which leads to an increased risk of depression.

People.  I’m already at HIGH risk for depression. I’m already at risk of drowning in sadness and apathy. I have a history of clinical depression.

So being this size, bumping up against 270lbs, all of this runs me the risk of falling into a huge depression.


The funk has started.

The random tears have started.

The apathy towards finishing school has started.

So I have 2 choices.

  1. I can let it continue.  Eat the candy. Eat the chips.  Drink the rum and coke. Exercise only at derby practice.  Sit on my ass the rest of the time.
  2. Change what I’m doing.  Stop eating the sugar. Control my caloric intake.  Add something exercise every day. Move my body every 15 mins when I’m in class.

One choice leads to a miserable life and awful unhappy wedding photos.

The other leads to the life I want.

Easy choice, right?

Not really.  Apathy is actually easier.  That’s why people have a hard time getting out of depression and getting fit. Apathy is the easier of the two paths.

But it’s not the path I’m taking.

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That’s how much 1.44 miles translates to.

Or 27 mins. Because 5 min cool down walking at 2.5 or 2 mph SUCKS.

But doing the C25K at 3mph walk and 4mph run translated to 1.44 miles.  2.3kms

In my head… I kept hearing a Pixie saying “KEEP MOVING YOUR FEET”

thanks Pixie.

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New Muscles!!!

So my whole derby career I’ve had an issue with my feet. My right foot especially.

I hop on my toe stops…and my right foot has a shooting pain in the ball of my foot.

It makes toe stop work… difficult.

So I managed I worked around it.

I played without going on my toe stops as much as possible.

Finally – I found a solution.  Tape my 3rd and 4th toes together.

Holy hell.  No more pain. I can go up on my toe stops.

And now? I have a new problem.

My calf muscles… specifically the fibularis longus, is freaking SCREAMING at me now.


See that? Up there?  The issue I was having was where the first metatarsal bone met the first phalange.  That’s right above the point where the fibularis longus tendon meets the medial cuneiform.

So I tape the 3rd and 4th toes together, and it solved my problem with the pain.  Now… the pain has moved.

I’ve discovered new muscles.  This will be a temporary issue for me – unless I find a solution sooner rather than later, but holy CRAP new muscles!

I think the most interesting thing about this… is not only how interconnected everything is, but also the fact that it fascinated me figuring this stuff out.

I love derby. I love anatomy.  Its fun that I get to intersect the two.


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Derby Love

And then there’s that moment…

… when you have a fantastic hit on an opposing team member.

… when you manage to do what you’re supposed to and hold back the jammer.

… when you get separated from your team and instead of just hanging around uselessly, you fuck up their shit and your jammer gets through.

… when you’re blocking and an opposing team member elbows you so hard in the chin that you’re seriously thinking you may have a concussion (I didn’t, or if I do it’s seriously mild)

…when you come back from resting from said hit (half a game and 3 hours between) and tell the coach you’d like to jam…that you’ll let him know when you’re able to.

… when your coach puts you on the jammer roster immediately so you’re jamming EVERY. FOUR. JAMS.

… when you find your strength in jamming and you make some spectacular (for you) plays.

… when you are able to hold your own without too many concessions or handicaps while jamming.

… when you realize you’ve jammed half a game and are ready for more.

… when you’re playing blocker for the 2nd half and figure out how to go from offence to defence and do it well.

… when people compliment you on your strength and your ability to jam and you’re not quite sure how to take it.

… when you realize.. that as ambivalent as you may have been about going… it was the best thing that could have happened to get your focus back on the sport you love.

… when your spouse supports and encourages you to play… to travel… to practise… and is willing to push you to do it.

… those are the moments that you’ll remember.  Because they make derby awesome.

Today was an amazing day of learning, growing, and playing to my strengths… both the ones I was aware of and the ones I didn’t know I had.

I played, I got hurt, I played some more…and I had so much fun.

Derby Love people!  Derby love…

I love my sport!


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The Thing About Working Out

As a larger woman.

With what I affectionately call “thunder thighs”…

.. is that when you do a leg work out, your leg muscles bulk up a bit (not much, but you’re using them, so they’re a bit more *noticeable*) and suddenly your thighs rub together more.

Reason #235 why larger women avoid the gym.  Because that feeling sucks.

But it didn’t stop me today.


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Cooking Salad….

I remember a few years ago, making my breakfast and a kid asked me… “why are you cooking a salad?”

My response was that it was for my eggs.

But I’ve realized, as I’m getting myself back to where I want to be, that I eat salad all the time.

Raw, with crunchy crisp veggies.

Cooked, with eggs.

On the side.

As a main dish.

Deconstructed with no lettuce or spinach.

So kid, from a couple years ago… I’m cooking my salad because it tastes fricken delish.  And because when I cook the salad in winter, I’m more likely to eat it.


This morning’s “cooked salad” with mushrooms, swiss chard, spinach and yellow peppers… awaiting my scrambled eggs…

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Derby … 2017

Back to derby.

At the end of last season, I was hit with vertigo, as well as doing clinical.  It kept me out of derby for the last 2? 3? weeks of practice.

So last night was my first derby practice in what felt like a month.

A month of eating.

A month of drinking.

A month of sitting, doing crafts.

A month of over eating.

A YEAR of not doing what I was supposed to be doing to get to where I wanted to be.

A YEAR of being a student and sitting.

A year of gaining all the weight back that I’d lost in 2014.

And then I got back on skates.

And suffered.

It felt like I was skating back 6 years ago when skating for 5 mins hurt.

Except I skated for 10 minutes.  Without stopping.

Granted, I didn’t do the actual drill – but I DIDN’T STOP.

I hurt.  In places that stopped hurting last season.

And I know -without a doubt – it is directly attributed to my weight.

I’m taking steps to change this and this is not a New Year’s resolution.  It’s an “I don’t fit my clothes and get winded going up stairs again” goal.

It’s an “I don’t like the way my body feels or looks” goal.

It’s an “I need to make lifestyle changes that will shape my future so that I’m around to see my great-grandchildren” goal.

I have people helping me.

One who is helping me control my life.

One who is helping me push myself physically in derby.

And of course, my Sexxy Chef who is going to drag my ass to the gym.

I’m making changes – and I don’t want this to be like every other time:

Join a challenge… quit or sabotage myself.

Make a grandiose statement… fail and “start over” again.

I want this to be the “made some changes… stuck with the changes… life changed” time.

I need it to be.

I’m going to be 43 in 12 days.

I want to be a GILF. I want to be svelt and sexy at my wedding.  I want to have energy and be able to keep up with my great grandchildren. I want to be able to be on TOP during sex without having to stop and take a breath or change positions because I’m too tired so he has to finish it…

(yeah, I really said that)

So yeah.  I refuse to say that this time is different – each time has been.

I refuse to say I will succeed or fail – that will be determined entirely by what’s happening in the moment.

What I will say is that I’m incredibly grateful for the support and the people in my life right now.  I’m grateful that they’re willing to take their time and walk me through a life change.

One day, one hour, one minute at a time.

Just get through the next day.  Eat healthy. Drink water. Make small changes so that it all becomes a lifestyle.

And really – the biggest part of this for me?  Will be to learn that one small setback is not a downward spiral failure….

I can do this. For right now, I can.

And fuck this shit of waiting almost 2 months for another post.  That’s redonkulous. Posting goal:  minimum of 2X per week.  Because it’s important to me.

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