So, I am not just starting my journey from Couch Potato to Rollergirl, but I am just decided that it's time to keep a record of my experience. So far, it's been an unforgettable adventure, but I believe that I have quite a way to go. To begin this log, I guess I should tell you how I came to make this choice and what has happened to me so far.

In the winter of 2005, I found this strange little show on A&E called "Rollergirls". I was hooked after the first episode that I sat down and watched. At the time, it was only partially the sport that attracted me. I was married, a mom and working at a job that was not bad, but didn't fulfill my deepest dreams. I watched too much television and ate too much junk food. I was lonely and unfulfilled. So, watching the show, I saw something I wanted. It was a sisterhood. The women were more to one another than teammates. They were family!

I was inspired, but I didn't think my hometown would have a roller derby league and I wasn't ready to start something like that on my own. I thought instead that I would just looking to a roller skating club for ladies. That would be something, right? So, I started searching the internet to find out if there was something like that already going here in Sacramento. To my huge surprise, there was a derby league starting up. The first practice was in a few weeks. I went to my husband and together we discussed whether or not I should go for it. He was immediately supportive. Of course, at that point, I was driving him so nuts, he probably would have encouraged me to join a radical environmental group and live in a tree if I had shown any passion about it whatsoever!!!!

The first practice was on a very rainy night. I loaded into my car with a great deal of trepidation. Not only was I headed out to the roller rink for the first time in about fifteen years, but I was going alone. I hadn't gone anywhere without at least my husband - if not a whole band of people - in years. I was terrified of talking to strangers. But, I was determined to do derby and none of my few girlfriends were remotely interested in going with me.

I will never forget the drive there. It almost felt as if the heaven's themselves were out to thwart me. The closer I got to the rink, the harder it rained. I arrived more than thirty minutes early, even with a stop at the minimart for water and gatorade. I stumbled into the rink, dressed in brand new yoga pants and a hot pink shirt. The smell of floor wax, stale popcorn and raging pre-teen hormones assailed my nose and pulled up old memories of Saturday nights spent circling the floor and flirting.

I got my dun colored rental skates with the filthy orange wheels and meandered further into the rink. Tucked away in a tiny party room, there were several other women, strapping on skates and signing paperwork. I took a deep breath, threw my shoulders back and introduced myself to the first person I saw.

I crashed and burned the first time I tried to step off of the rink that night, falling flat on my stomach. It was loud and messy and anything but graceful and it happened right in the middle of a crowd of women. In what I know now was true derby spirit, I crossed my ankles, tucked my chin on my hands and declared, "Ta da!" It worked. People laughed and I was able to scramble to my feet.

It was a great night. I went home full of adrenaline, even willing post for a post-first-practice picture complete with ear-to ear grin. I talked my husband into letting spend the money on a brand new pair of Carrerra Pink Panthers. It was exhilerating!

Sadly, the league that I joined that night was not meant to be. Within three months, most of the ladies who had shown up that night had joined another, better organized local league. I was crushed, but not defeated. I took a couple of weeks to work up my courage - again- and contacted the other league. I was a little less nervous this time. Afterall, I already knew a few of the ladies who were skating there.

I wish I could say that the second league was perfect. I can't. I won't say much about it at all except to say that for a new skater, it was neither encouraging, nor supportive. It was a league where skaters had no voice. We were told where we should be, what we should wear and how we should act, but the leadership never followed their own rules nor did they meet commitments they made to us as skaters. I spent three months there, learning nothing and not really feeling like I fit it. It was really discouraging and I finally got the point where I was discussing quitting derby altogether with my husband. He was adamant that I was going to keep skating weekly at a rink, even if I didn't skate with a derby league. I had spent a lot of money on equipment at that point. He didn't want it to go to waste.

I contacted a member of the league who had been kind to me to let her know that I was quitting. To my utter surprise, she told me that I wasn't the only one leaving. She told me to hold on, that something was "in the works". I took heart in her words, but I still announced my resignation from the league. I just couldn't go on financially supporting the management.

Within days, the formation of a new league was announced. It would be a league run by the skaters, for the skaters. At our first meeting, over thirty skaters showed up, including many who had left the other league even before I had. There were women there who had been on teams in the other league, skating in bouts. All of us had, without talking to each other for the most part, come to the decision that we wanted something different. We wanted a league where we had a voice. This is what we created that night. This is the league I call home now, Sacred City Derby Girls, though we didn't have a name at the time.

Did you know that it takes thirty women three weeks to make a decision like what to name a roller derby league or what colors they should use? We submitted names and voted. Then, unhappy with the results, we submitted names and voted again. Then we did the same with colors. In fact, any time that we have to make a major decision, you had better give us at least three weeks to do it. But, we do get it done. And when all is said and done, we can smile and accept that we all had a chance to say something about what we felt. Yeah, there are some hurt feelings to get over. There may even be some anger. But in the end, we are a family and we will show up at the next event, wearing our burgundy and pink and smiling asn greeting family, friends and fans as one united league.