A remembering of Ooh yes, summer is when we bring movement indoors unlike our time in the East Bay.
In the summers since we’ve resumed being Texans we’ve discovered lots of free,
creative activities (indoor obstacle courses, duct tape hopscotch grids etc.) but eventually even I concluded it was time to pry open the wallet.
Trampoline parks. Indoor water parks. Bowling. Indoor mini-golf. Rock walls.
During the heat of the past few months, however, I was compelled to admit I was out of ideas.
I was forced to face the fact the roller rink was our final option.
The Child had been begging. I’d been avoiding. I’m wholly, utterly and completely uncoordinated.
Even 35 years ago, when I was a weekly fixture my local rink, I barely rocked the basics.
No fancy backward gliding while simultaneously googly-eyed during couples skate.
Forward momentum only.
The skating years: an awkward yet highly confident phase.
My lack of skills isn’t simply skating specifically, either. I’m generally NOT athletic.
I’m so wobbly during sporty endeavors the Child may identify me as her safe person yet even she knows not to turn to me for (literal) support in athletic situations or we will both (most likely literally) go down.
I was not OK enough with it, however, to choose to remain on the sidelines when we went to the roller rink.
I was terrified.
I joked (more truth said in jest alert!) how I feared I’d break a hip.
skates on. terror remains.
I did it.
I didn’t lace up & skate for *her* (she mostly resembled the image below)–I did it for me.
I tumbled (once). I boogied (twice). I laughed (full-on underwater tea party laugh). I wasn’t very good.
I fell in love.
I fell in love because I hadn’t felt so proud of myself in a long, long time.
4 reasons roller skating is my new favorite:
- I’m terrible. The Child can clearly see see how not good I am. It provides me opportunity to practice what I long to preach with regards to trying new things: It doesn’t matter if we aren’t great at something when we’re having fun. Maybe we will improve. Maybe we won’t. Enjoy without attachment to the outcome.
- It’s my running…or so I hope. I’ve always been jealous of the fact runners can just throw open the front the door and GO! Sure, I currently do the same with walking, I’ve just longed to shake it up for a while. My ‘hood is hilly, but I’ve mapped out a flatter course and hope, once the heat breaks, my skills will be ready!
pair purchased for home use!
- I’m Tootie! #wycwyc is not only something I promote it’s my way of life. Say what you will about aging–the huge bonus to our second lives is the fact we get to make the rules. In my house there’s absolutely no rule against skating on the hardwood. It’s air-conditioned perfection and I’ve officially deemed myself the Tootie Ramsey of Texas.
- It’s good for me. Spoiler alert: this is not my motivation. Skating is great cardio. Skating is gentle to the joints. Skating is a fab lower body workout. My love of the skate goes far deeper than those facts, but those facts exist
if you care.
my local rink wants me to care.
- It’s moving meditation. I wish I possessed words to convey how powerful this facet of skating is. Walking works, yet the more I breath-walk the more easily Ive become distracted by my surroundings. The sheer movement of skating is meditative to me and I imagine this gift of relaxation will only increase as my wobbling decreases.
No ‘blogger call to action.’ No question of the day.
All me, my skates and a profound wish I had ‘Oprah money’ as then you’d all suddenly possess sneaker skates/experience their power too.