Sweating Skating

Did you know that once upon a time I did something called synchronized skating? I didn’t either until recently, in fact, because I didn’t call it by that name. It was merely known as that “embarassing blip” where twenty awkward and pre-pubescent girls uniformly, obliviously, and giddily clad in unflattering head-to-toe skin-skimming red polyester jumpsuits, claw-shaped mittens, and red hairbands. We performed a routine often involving us shimmying, forming chains and high-kicking like bad showgirls or gliding across the ice lined up a la Locomotion, all to that “Under the Sea” song. Hard to believe it was half a lifetime ago and I so wish I had that picture here to scan in!!

While Vancouverites are in (pre-)playoff frenzy (we’re in! yay!), I’m swept in, too, and some part is because NPY’s hockey season is soon starting up. (I’m dating a captain, iddn’t that nifty? He’s very modest about it all….) I’m getting quite envious that the boys will get all this ice time that my little feet are pushing off along with theirs as they quickly and powerfully sprint across the ice.*

Each time I’ve gone out (twice) this year has been so rewarding. First session, I could glide easily on one leg and found my cross-cuts. Second session, I found my stop, some semblance of a cross-cut while going backwards, and my three-turn. And here I thought I’d be that girl with the knob-knees and collapsed ankles pushing off straight back with my toe-picks. =P

The far more convenient option – but it’s just not a classic-Wyn thing – is rollerblading. I don’t know why I’m not as scared of bad bruises falling on unforgiving ice as I am of getting a big bloody gash crashing on pavement. It’s the same fear that has kept me from learning to ride a bike. Joining the ranks of sunny and happy bladers in Stanley Park also isn’t very classic-Wyn, either, so I don’t know what to do!

* Mind you, it’s the skating part I’m caught up in and I don’t desire to play hockey….!

On this day..