Being My Own Hero

So, I can’t skate. I used to be able to. I used to skate with those old-fashioned roller skates that went on over your shoes and you tightened with a key. I used to wear the key around my neck because I had visions of loosing that special tool and having to go through the rest of my life with these strange metal contraptions over my shoes. At five, I had some trouble envisioning a world where there were other ways to unlock the skate.

I remember getting my first pair of skates with the white boots that lace over your ankles. I would pretend I was Dorothy Hamill, skating in the Olympics. I would skate with my sisters for hours on end. I never feared falling. It never occurred to me that I would fall. And if I did fall, I would spend the next week showing off my scabby knees.

Somehow, between then and now, I lost the ability to skate. Maybe it is because I started being afraid to fall. I forgot the thrill of going fast. I couldn’t remember the high of trying a new technique and successfully pulling it off. I forgot how to skate.

But I am learning how again. I am learning how to balance. I am learning how to fall. I am training my body to move forward, and I am figuring out how to take a hit and stay on my feet. Oh, and I am also learning how to skate.