So, sitting here, feet up and trying to use my knees as little as possible. Why? Simple - I spent a good hour yesterday attempting to ice skate. Backside freezing against the ice, back against the boards, I admit beginning to wonder if my passing interest in ice hockey had crossed a line. An hour earlier, I had pulled on thick socks, some scruffs and a pair of gloves and hopped on a bus. Now I was attending the local ice rink's "Learn to Skate" session and unlike the other adults in the Absolute Beginners Group, I was putting time into perfecting the technique known as "Sitting Down" after failing to master the more fundamental "Standing Still".
Luckily, the third thing we were taught (after being shown how to penguin-foot our way to the middle of the ice and how to stand still) was how to pick ourselves up from the ice. I suspect that the (very patient) instructor brought this forward for my benefit, despite the fact that I was sitting there with (what I hope was) a most contented smile on my face.
Moments later, I was standing again, left foot wobbling and struggling to keep on top of the blade. Standing up had been easy - I'd had plenty of practice during the few minutes of free-skating before the lesson. Now standing (and sliding around so much that I was occupying an "area" rather than a "position"), it was time to try skating out to the middle of the ice. Clutching to the boards as I was, this posed two problems: 1. Being away from the boards was nothing short of bloody terrifying, and 2. I was right at the back of the group and hadn't heard any of the instructions.
Predictably, it was only a few minutes until I was lying on my back admiring the vaulted ceiling, resplendent in dirty-white plastic and decorated with suspended lamps. Fortunately, the instructor had spotted the problem - my left skate was too loose, making it near impossible for me to keep on top of the blade. This filled me with Great Hope as up until then I had been pretty sure that the problem wasn't the skates but the misguided lump of man strapped into them.
I made my way off the ice (which involved skating around the Parents and Children Group, all of whom were vastly superior skaters than myself) and re-laced both of the £1.20-a-session skates. Soon, I was carefully edging my way back to the group, who to my dismay were as far away from the boards as possible. I made it, and managed it without falling but once there I had to deal with Skating Nemesis Number Two: Standing Still...
See, my body is an interesting shape - there are Bits That Stick Out, Bits That Stick In, Bits That Move and Bits That I Struggle To Keep Control Of When They're Attached To Boots With Knives On Them, and all of these Bits combine to create an object whose centre of gravity sort of... drifts... The result of this is that I'd gradually slide to and from the group. I found myself keeping as much distance between me and anybody else, determined as I was that should I fall, I wouldn't take any of my fellow ice-virgins with me. And fall I did. Repeatedly.
And now it was time for Lesson 6: How to Not Fall Over. I'll leave you to ponder on that one.
