Ice Capades

I can't participate in two recreational sports.

I can't swim (even though I was born on an island but will learn this summer as part of a series for my paper)

and I can't skate (roller or ice)

This afternoon, I decided to conquer one of the above and this showdown was a slaughter...the ice won.

As I sit here at my computer on Saturday night with ice packs (this is the only ice that I like) wrapped around both elbows, both knees and one on my forehead, I must recap my afternoon on the ice.

I have never been ice skating before but came up with the brilliant idea to go with my friend to a skating rink in the area. Neither of us had our own skates so we had to rent them from the arena.

Big mistake.

I must have received the shittiest (I know I made up the word)pair of skates from the rack. I didn't find this out until one of the skating instructors inspected my skates after the instructor watched me fall for the 10th time. After the last fall, I swear I heard something break and I wasn't trying to move as I'm laying face down on the ice. The instructor had to peel me off the ice before I became ice kill with the pending traffic.

With some help from my friend and the instructor, they carried me over to the bench to look at my skates. The instructor said the blades on my skates were dull and that I didn't lace them up tight enough (hey...it was my first time...I didn't know)

With my skates laced up tighter, I went back on the ice. I was able to stay on my feet in two-minute intervals but when one of those showoff 5-year-old junior olympic skaters zipped by me, the breeze knocked me over. After the 15th time that I kissed the ice, I raised the noodle that was my right arm and signaled to my friend I had enough.

El extremo.

l'extrémité.

The end.



P.S.


The ice might have won round 1 but after the swelling goes down...I'll be back in a month and when one of those 5-year-olds zips by me, I'm sticking my foot out.