Trust me...

That is what Jason, my acupuncturist kept saying to me on Wednesday after work. Trust me. He had gotten my newly dog-biting knee to bend so far back I swear my leg was twisted like a pretzel. Of course, this mantra came after a needle hit the nerve it was supposed to but sent an emotional shock of electricity through my leg and I thought I had kicked him. But I burst into tears instead. It was fine. The whole appointment was great save for that one part. Trust me. And I told him how interesting it was, that my body was learning to trust my knees again. You failed us! You caused us great grief. Now they say trust me. He agreed that was part of the problem of pain - that you are hurt like that and you need to trust your body to do its job again. The whole hour ended up being about trust and I walked up the stairs to my apartment like I usually do, no over compensating in my calves, but just up. And it worked. We were starting to trust each other again.

Tonight at practice we stretched (limited) and I helped with plyometrics... and then I went to put on my skates and I said to my knees, what do you want to do? And they said back to me - we trust YOU. Ok actually, my knees said nothing of the sort but I did come to a compromise with myself - my body needs to trust my knees not to let me fall and bring back that biting dog that so terribly hurt me and my knees need to trust my body not to push too hard. And it worked out. We had a great time together. Not pushing too hard and not going too strong. Just enough - enough so that we, my body and knees, went dancing after practice - at Neighbors for 80's night, which was super fun. I ran into Drew Blood there (who I've danced with before out at clubs) who was just getting back to dancing after cracking vertebrae (4) in her back. Neighbors kicked me out with "Under Pressure" - Queen - Freddie Mercury - which has, in the past made me cry. The logic goes like this: I love Queen. I loved Freddie Mercury. He died of AIDS. I hated the 80's. I hate Ronald Regan (for never, ever acknowledging the problem). Oh God what are we going to do? Then I'm overwhelmed. But tonight it was just my other fabulous teammates, Drew Blood, a shot someone didn't want to drink and my knees trusting me.

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Connie Torturous, the Dog that Bit Me and in love with my knees...

Now, a couple of weeks ago, I was walking down Phinney Ridge (ave), with a volunteer, going to meet with a stylist who was working on an event for Planned Parenthood when a woman leaned out of the passenger window and yellow "Hey Connie!" waving furiously. It was flattering, it was baffling, it was also 11 a.m. on a Friday in Phinney Ridge. The volunteer knew I did roller derby, followed-up with "who was that a fan?" Hmmm... it could have been but I was doubtful "if you put a helmet on her, I'm sure I would recognized her as a derby skater." "So can I call you Connie?" (No, but you can call me Torture like everyone else.) And last week, I found out it was a skater who I knew but who, honestly, I had only ever seen once without her derby gear and uniform. This time we caught each other in a wedding dress (her) and hot little blazin' yellow piece from Mexico (me) to add to the impressions of each other.

Sunday night, a giant pit bull tore off my knee and I screamed in the worst pain ever. Well, ok. Let me explain. It was the last 5 minutes of practice. I had had a "jacked" left knee and a right one that had been injured but had recovered from our last bout. We were doing this light drill that was pretty easy, loads of fun. One of the new skaters was coming through the "pack" and I went to push her out of bounds - half paying attention, not wanting to knock her down (which wasn't the point of the drill) - when she stumbled over a cone and because I was only half paying attention, I went down with her. The pain that shot from my recovered (less jacked) knee was terrifying. I scooted backwards on my butt to get off the rink and stared at my knee like it needed to come off. Like the pit bull that was biting my knee and pulling at it, needed to win, to take off my leg and go away. And I scooted away from my leg (forgetting it was attached) hoping I could just leave it behind. I had to get away from it. But there it was - still attached. Two dozen short breaths, and mumbles of "ohmygodohmygodohmygod" later, the dog walked away. Incredible. Intense. A believe it or not, very little damage. Some angry muscles, a little swelling. But what incredible pain. What an amazing dog.

And what an amazing physical therapist I have, who with some massage, a little bit of ultrasound managed to worked the "jacked" left knee to the point that my heal could reach my butt - the first time in a month. I was thrilled, I did a happy dance - I said I would stretch and do everything (as I have been doing) to take care of it! (The knee with the dog bit needed to calm down before it can be worked on.) I danced, literally, out to the car and then call friends telling them the great news about my knee and how happy I was and how much I loved, loved, loved my knees, and my physical therapist. And derby.

Old Money Wanted

That is what the sign read on the shop outside of my hotel in Boston - which happened to be the oldest (continuously running) hotel in the US - and the oldest in Boston - which is pretty old in US standards. I was there for the Development Officers Conference, which I've attended (in various cities) over the last 5 years. It was, as always, a great week of fundraising workshops (yes, those can be great!), seeing old colleagues and peers, exploring a new city (though I've been to Boston a couple of times) and most importantly, being inspired by my work. This year's speaker was Dr. Kenneth Edelin, "a young, black doctor who arrived in Boston in 1971 to do his residency training in obstetrics and gynecology at Boston City Hospital. In April 1974, when he was three months away from completing his residency, he was indicted on a charge of manslaughter by a secret grand jury." Because he performed abortions legally in the city hospital. Because he was black. Because people didn't like how their city was changing... and he was found guilty.

He brought tears to the eyes of women who have been fighting the fight for decades, he light the fire in the bellies of younger generations who had never heard this story. He was passionate about the plight of poor women, of poor disenfranchised, black and Latino women. He was amazing and he made me feel so good about my job and the work that I do. Incredibly inspired.

On Wednesday, I left the very old city of old money and headed to Vegas - a shiny, sparkly new city in the desert who money is just as Mafia tied as Boston's but has a much shorter history. It's also a city that rebuilds itself every 20 years, pulling off history like an outdated pair of jeans. I feel like I could take a deep breath and blow it down.

I was in Vegas for RollerCon, a roller derby convention with 1,500 participants from all over the world. It was amazing! By 9 a.m. I had down an hour of plyometrics and an hour of skating drills. I would sit by the pool for 20 minutes then rush off to a workshop about sponsorship, rules, merchandise, membership in the the main organization, grab my skates and go to another drills class where I skated backwards for two hours and learned how to do whips. Go back to my hotel, grab a bit (we were always forgetting to eat) and then head off for scheduled bouts between teams like Team World (yes, those from England, Australia, New Zealand) vs. Team USA, East Coast Refs vs. West Coast Refs. Then, with skate bag in tow, head over to the scrimmages where there were two teams - black and white. You pulled on a t-shirt, laced up you skates and headed out onto the track. Phew. Oh, let's not forget the Black and Blue Ball, birthday parties, burlesque, shows, Derby Weddings, etc., that went all night long. It's truly a city that never sleeps.

RollerCon was incredible on so many levels - not only did I get to meet gals from sister leagues all across the country (even got to know some of my Cleveland pals) but I got to be a part of this really fantastic movement of empowering women - of athleticism and entertainment. I got to fill my "bag of tricks" with more ideas and techniques for skating and sisterhood and connections for help. I came away with t-shirts (for my teammates who didn't attend), a bag full of tricks and enough ideas on how to do it better. Truly inspired.