At Your Own Risk

When I was in elementary school (in the 80s), I had the coolest babysitter who took me and my two older sisters all kinds of fun places – Wild Rivers, the beach, and roller skating come to mind right away. Although I was never a particularly coordinated child, I was able to roller skate at a steady, albeit turtle-like, pace. I always thought it was more fun to skate at the skating rink because the floor was smooth (you didn’t have to worry about nasty cracks in the sidewalk to trip over), they played good, fun, music, and they even had air conditioning. Plus, they had those carpet-covered barriers all around the side of the skating rink that you could hold on to while you had Bambi legs or use to stop without falling down.

I remember they would sometimes ask everyone to clear the floor before inviting all skaters who wanted to skate backwards for a song. I could never skate backwards, but I watched in awe as our babysitter sailed around the rink in reverse to the theme song of “Beverly Hills Cop,” her thick, blonde braid reaching down to her calves. Seriously, when I sat behind her in her car, her braid not only touched the floor, but coiled like a rope.

Recently, a friend called me for an impromptu get-together. She wanted to do something fun for her daughter, who she wouldn’t be able to see on her birthday a few days later. I had the brilliant (i.e., highly questionable) idea to take our children roller skating.

Knowing that the following day was “leg day” at the gym, I had strategically chosen this activity thinking that the adults could participate as well to get in some more enjoyable exercise to replace the drearier gym activities. Being ever-supportive, my dear friend agreed whole-heartedly.

Fortunately, I had, in previous years, taken the time to (somewhat) teach my daughter how to skate (more of a “do as I say” not “do as I do” method, because I wanted her to do better than me). Apparently, I’m not a horrible teacher because, out of the four of us, she proved to be the expert, although not ready for the Olympics any time soon…after all, she is my child.

You know how people say “it’s just like riding a bike?” …well, I don’t think skating works that way. But come to think of it, maybe it does, because I was never much good at riding a bike, either. It took me about a half hour of inching along at a snail’s pace before I was comfortable enough to bump it up to turtle speed. While my legs weren’t screaming at me, my back reminded me that I was no longer in my twenties and shouldn’t hunch over like Quasimodo. I was, however, pleasantly surprised that, when left to my own devices, I was able to travel in slow, methodical circles around the rink without crashing. I also happened to be praying quite hard that no one crashed into me or right in front of me, because I knew I was not capable of avoiding collisions. Luckily, most of my skating was uneventful…Most of it.

Enjoying our time and feeling slightly more adventurous, my daughter and I decided to play “Red Light, Green Light” with the other (read “better”) skaters. I may not have been the last one to roll forward when they said “green light,” but I was definitely one of the last ones to figure out how to stop.

On my first attempt, I coasted; but when I wasn’t slowing enough, I tried squatting and putting one knee down. I ended up slamming one knee on the floor and giving myself a new bruise on my kneecap. On my second attempt to stop, I’m not sure how, but I ended up kicking my feet out at 45-degree angles. Not only did I fall hard on my butt, but one of my skates kicked the leg of a middle-school kid who, thankfully, was laughing at her less-than-graceful halt as well. On my other side, my daughter was laughing hysterically at/with me…she is SOOO my child.

I got another extra special surprise with this attempt at stopping; you know how, after having children, it’s hard not to pee when you laugh? Fill in the blank. I made the mistake of telling my daughter what happened, and she thought that was even more funny than watching me fall. On my third and final (thank God!) attempt to stop on “red light,” I tried a new method of stopping which resulted in landing on my left wrist, which I must say, was the most painful method I tried that day. I much prefer the old ways where I could just run into the carpet-covered barrier and hang on for dear life.

Apparently, “Red Light, Green Light” is not my game. The good news is that “Red Light, Green Light” came at the end of our skating session and I was soon able to go home and change…you know, because I was sweaty (wink). I think it is safe to say that I will never successfully be one of those skaters who can skate backwards.

Original Post 01/2021