Ice Skating

My friend Rachel and I have known each other since we were ten. That year, our paths crossed no fewer than three separate ways: open swim time at the YMCA, summer camp, and a mutual friend’s sleepover birthday party. Seeing as we were destined to be friends, we shrugged and started spending massive amounts of weekend time together, since we didn’t go to the same school until high school. One of many things that we would do together was go ice skating. We did this many, many times, and it was how I learned to go from inching my way around the rink edge to finally letting go and making it all the way around without holding on. To give you a taste of how this particular ritual would go, let’s fast forward to a few weeks ago, when I told Rachel I was finally taking the ice skating lessons I’d been denied as a kid.

Rachel: But you already know how to skate!

Amy: No, Rachel. YOU know how to skate. And you would take my hand and skate really fast and then let go!

Rachel: Oh yeah. Ha!

I have been ice skating with friends since those days (including one memorable winter day in DC where I fell spectacularly onto my butt) and can generally make it around the edge. But lately, that childhood dream has been needling its way to the surface. I have some free time, and some extra money, and so I put out a call on Facebook for friends to join me for lessons at the local skating rink. My friend Mike took me up on it and we headed out to the rink. On Sundays it's me, and Mike, and a bunch of little kids (but we have our own teacher) tearing up the rink. I have this dream that we will learn how to do jumps and fancy things, but I realized at this week's lesson, when we were learning how to glide on one skate, that the building blocks for all of it is balance, something which I sorely lack, and stronger ankles. Now I stand on one foot around the house, like I did when I was taking dance classes... just to practice. 

Maybe next week we'll cover jumps. Hope springs eternal!