Trauma Response

Roller Derby is a Team Sport.

You've seen many of them already, heard me talk about the Devils I skate with for 6+ hours every week.  Women like Ace & Eenie Meanie, a derby wife combo who had endless amounts of patience for us fresh meat when it came to teaching, or Drrty Grrl who never fails to get the rest of us fired up - either by dancing on the jammer line or her patented war cry.

They're the ones who all pile in for the Big Group Photo, to share in that sweaty happy moment at the end of a bout where you're just happy to have played the best damn sport on 8 wheels.

But there's a team you don't see on the website or in the photos.   There's the team who gets dinner on the table when work runs late but we still need to gear up at 7:30.  There's the team who cheers and buys tickets and who will still hug you after a bout when you smell like rancid goat butt.

The parents, for one - they've been my cheerleaders from day one and so now they wear my Derby Name on their shirts and share in my post-bout highs via skype.    It's been so gratifying to see the important people in our lives come together as part of the larger derby family.  From Brute's Quad Squad and Sin Derr Hella's Fella to my little sister reposting my latest bout pics on facebook, our joy is magnified tenfold when we can share it with our loved ones.

But speaking of fellas...

It takes a special kind of husband to say ok to "Hey, I know I have this crazy 80 hour a week job and we almost never see each other, but I'm just going to jump headlong into this equally bonkers sport that requires almost every shred of time I have left over after work."

But this is the man I agreed to run off with - to have crazy adventures with for the rest of my life, so of course he's going to say yes.  And so he's the Trauma Response to my Protocol, my backbone and strength when I've gotten up from that last big hit... and the first person I find to kiss when I come off the track.  (And yes, his name will be explained too - all in due time!)