The rattle of skates across a wooden floor.
The feel of wind in my hair.
The sweat on knees and elbows beneath the pads.
The stretch as I push to do things I've never done before.
The hoot and holler of the girls.
I am addicted. Tonight I almost threw it in, Deb wasnt going and I really only wanted to sulk. I know, its a legit depression and all, but sulking is sulking, even when it feels compulsary and out of your control, and I was all torn up again. Greg helped so much, he didnt tell me once that it would be wrong to follow my heart, I said all of that, and I still dont know what I've decided. Greg just listened and didnt tell me I was stupid, gods bless the man. But even before I rung him up, I found myself on the road, the need to skate like a physical craving. I almost dont know what draws me back. I know what should, and I feel it, the team, the companionship, the sense of accomplishment, its all part of it, but even I know I'm floating the outsides, not quite a part but not quite seperate, so lost in all my own little darknesses that surfacing to be social ranges from difficult to sometimes hellish. There have been days I laid out simply because I couldnt handle it, or because I wasnt fit company for monsters. But more often than not, even on days when laying out is unavoidable--like when my car was down and I was without wheels--I feel the pull and want to go back.
I am addicted and dont know why. I am not the most social, nor the best, I shine in no particular way whatsoever. ....actually, maybe thats it. Its not often I get to be somewhat ordinary, just one of the girls. But I dont know for sure. But when I'm done, I feel better.
I started the evening stumbling over my jumps, the first thing I said upon rolling off to tackles them was that I sucked. Statement of fact, I jump like a ballerina and I need to jump like a frog. But by the end of the evening I did three in a row, all frog jumps, no problem. Repeat performance next session? Dunno, I have lots more practice to do. But I went on the floor saying I sucked, and could honestly leave proud and saying I didnt.
I dont go for kudos.
I dont go for health, though I love I get it.
I dont go for anything, really.
But I always go.
The rattle of skates on wood.
The wind through my hair.
Speed. Endorphins.
Gatorade.
Addiction is good.
The feel of wind in my hair.
The sweat on knees and elbows beneath the pads.
The stretch as I push to do things I've never done before.
The hoot and holler of the girls.
I am addicted. Tonight I almost threw it in, Deb wasnt going and I really only wanted to sulk. I know, its a legit depression and all, but sulking is sulking, even when it feels compulsary and out of your control, and I was all torn up again. Greg helped so much, he didnt tell me once that it would be wrong to follow my heart, I said all of that, and I still dont know what I've decided. Greg just listened and didnt tell me I was stupid, gods bless the man. But even before I rung him up, I found myself on the road, the need to skate like a physical craving. I almost dont know what draws me back. I know what should, and I feel it, the team, the companionship, the sense of accomplishment, its all part of it, but even I know I'm floating the outsides, not quite a part but not quite seperate, so lost in all my own little darknesses that surfacing to be social ranges from difficult to sometimes hellish. There have been days I laid out simply because I couldnt handle it, or because I wasnt fit company for monsters. But more often than not, even on days when laying out is unavoidable--like when my car was down and I was without wheels--I feel the pull and want to go back.
I am addicted and dont know why. I am not the most social, nor the best, I shine in no particular way whatsoever. ....actually, maybe thats it. Its not often I get to be somewhat ordinary, just one of the girls. But I dont know for sure. But when I'm done, I feel better.
I started the evening stumbling over my jumps, the first thing I said upon rolling off to tackles them was that I sucked. Statement of fact, I jump like a ballerina and I need to jump like a frog. But by the end of the evening I did three in a row, all frog jumps, no problem. Repeat performance next session? Dunno, I have lots more practice to do. But I went on the floor saying I sucked, and could honestly leave proud and saying I didnt.
I dont go for kudos.
I dont go for health, though I love I get it.
I dont go for anything, really.
But I always go.
The rattle of skates on wood.
The wind through my hair.
Speed. Endorphins.
Gatorade.
Addiction is good.