Oil and water, orange juice and toothpaste, Pepsi and milk (I don’t care what Laverne says) – these are things that that simply do not mix. These things are not things for me.
Ice skates and me? We also do not mix. Therefore, ice skating is also not my thing. Actually anything that requires something directly beneath my feet making me mobile against my will is not really my thing. Skiiing. Roller skating. Roller blading. Skateboarding. That escalator that isn’t an escalator at the airport that’s kind of spongy and lets you walk moderately faster… These are not only not my things, but they are pretty darn dangerous in my experience. Where are all of the concerned citizens who want to ban dodgeball when apparatuses like these are out there for any Tom, Dick, and Sally to sprain an ankle or pop a knee?
I identified at an early age that balance can be kind of tricky. When those 3rd and 4th grade 80’s roller rink parties came around, I knew what was what. I was the smart cookie standing in her skates safely playing Donkey Kong in the CARPETED arcade.
And here’s the thing – my inability to move gracefully, or move at all, in death contraptions like ice skates couldn’t be helped even if I wanted to be the next Peggy Flemming because there were no ice rinks where I lived.
Yes, I am from Northern Indiana where it’s cold and there’s lots of snow, but for some reason we didn’t exactly have any ice rinks nearby. There was, however, a skating rink in a mall just over an hour away. The good old Glenbrook Mall in Fort Wayne, Indiana.
Flash forward to my high school years – my tight-knit Tournament Plus tennis group found itself at Glenbrook killing some time while waiting for the local minor league hockey game to begin. (side note: Shout out to the Komets! I miss those games!)
Anyway, we’d sort of split up and I found myself with a couple of the girls and my pro, Paul Algate. Oh, how I miss Paul! He challenged each of us in so many ways, yet he and the other pros always kept things fun and engaging. This was the night he decided to challenge me — to ice skate.
Of course I said no. I said no repeatedly. He begged. I didn’t back down. I knew what was going to happen the moment I donned those skates and hit the ice. It was not going to be pretty.
He went from begging to bribery. He offered me 5 bucks and was going to cover the rental fee. $5? Now that changed my tune. Hey, $5 paid for a feature length film in the theater back in my day. A girl can have her pride, or a girl can go to the movies.
So I caved. I laced my rather ill-fitting skates and took a deep breath as I crossed the rubber mats to the ice rink wall. The deal was I had to go around the entire arena one time. Lucky for me, Paul didn’t specify exactly how I had to make my way around the entire arena.
I was as desperate to cling to that wall as I was to walk out of Spawn (if you’ve seen Spawn, you know that level of pure desperation). I pushed and pulled and struggled to stay upright as I slowly, and I mean slowly made my way around the rink.
I said “not my thing”, right?
People saw the look on my face, the tremor in my knees, and gladly got out of my way. Until I ran into a couple of 6 year old girls hugging my wall.
I’m pretty sure I threw out fair warning that I was coming. And it’s not like they couldn’t hear my whining and heavy breathing a mile away. As I swiftly approached them (because apparently everything with ice skates suddenly becomes swift), physics failed me.
What can I say? Fight or flight kicked in … – so I pushed them off the wall and kept along my merry way.
Me pushing the six year old girls out of my way.
Was I ten years older than they were? Yes. But that also means I was ten years closer to a hip replacement if I was the one crashing to the ice instead of them. I’m pretty sure they were fine. Yeah, they were fine. Kids are resilient that way.
After what felt like hours trying to make my way around that stupid ice rink, I saw my party in sight. They were laughing hysterically, but I was the one who would be laughing while taking in Tom Cruise’s sparkling smile on the silver screen.
I couldn’t have been but two feet from the exit when Karma came back to bite me big time. I don’t know how it happened, but I collapsed onto the ice and it hurt like a mother!
So, I ice skated once. I suppose that’s a no-take-back. Definitely not my finest hour. Am I glad I did it? Meh. I’m glad I got see Jerry Maguire with that new fangled Dolby Digital Surround.
