Learning to Balance

I’ve always been known as a klutz. This alone usually gives me enough reasoning to avoid standing on something as unstable as wheels, or blades, or something as slippery as ice. Why would someone who trips over air try their luck at something with so much potential for falling?

As a Minnesotan with a Canadian mother, there’s no surprise that I love hockey. I even live next to an ice-skating rink! Yet, I’ve never tried ice-skating. My “grace of a drunken elephant,” as my family says, makes me rethink most things with added potential for falling on my face. When my mother tried getting me into hockey when I was younger, she always stopped herself when she realized that whenever I played floor hockey in elementary (and middle) school gym, I found a way to trip myself with MY hockey stick. I lack the coordination for something like hockey. So no, I didn’t try playing hockey. But, skating proves enough of a challenge for someone so uncoordinated.

First, I tried roller-skating, I figured that since roller-skates tend to have more wheels, that also are not in a straight line, that balancing might come easier on roller-skates than ice-skates. My dad, who worked at Skateville as a teenager, and I go to Skateville for a few hours. I make goals to stay on my feet and not thoroughly embarrass myself.

My dad (who is over sixty years old) ends up skating in circles around me. Literally. He danced in the middle and would finish at least three laps before I finished one. He dragged me around the floor, with him skating backward and me screaming at him to stop. When he finally let go after that experience, I try to keep up with him. I lose my balance pretty quickly and try to regain it with a dance resembling the can-can, only to fall flat on my butt. I made us leave promptly after that embarrassing fall.

I accomplished neither of my goals.

The next day, still in pain from my fall the day before, I decide to try ice-skating; I choose the think that, for some reason, ice-skating would come easier to me. A friend and I decide to go to one of the many ice-skating rinks around us. She mostly wants to see me fall flat on my face and prepares herself to laugh at my embarrassment. I arrive already worried about my inevitable embarrassment. 

As soon as I step on the ice, I know that nothing good will come from me stepping on the ice, but I continue anyway. I stick to the side walls and cling onto the barriers. I nearly trip over invisible nicks in the ice, but I somehow manage to keep myself on my feet by following the walls. I decide to take a risk; I move closer to the middle of the rink while I skate (I keep my friend next to me so that I can pull her down with me if I fall). I go in a circle or two before I gain some confidence. As soon as I feel more confident. I go faster. If you recall, that same decision caused my fall the day before. I started to feel unsteady, and rather than falling over, I sit down.

I never officially fell while ice-skating, mostly because every time I felt that I might fall, I sat down (would that be counted as falling over?). I kept myself from getting a worse bruise than I already had (both physically and emotionally), but neither experience made me all that excited to try again. I’ve decided to learn to walk on steady ground before learning how to skate.