It only took me two months of winter to get back on the ice! The first bit went mostly like this.
I know. Very smooth.
The rented skates were a half size too big, which I expected, but also terribly dull. I felt like I was trying to find a sharp edge on a spoon.
Eventually, I went back and asked for a different pair. I was worried it was me, not the skates, and I was being a huge pain, but getting back on the ice opened up a whole new world.
Me, on sharp skates (sans Aladdin).
My parents and baby brother ventured out with me. Ray is 10 and completely kicked my butt. I played tag with his friends, was mostly ‘it’, then was the recipient of a handful of ice shavings to the face. Repeatedly. It’s hard to be too angry when you’re bested by 10 year olds. I did get a few handfuls of ice down the back of a few sweatshirts though. Little buggers on skates are fast.
I only made one kid fall down, only ran into one person, and had a wonderful time. I forget how much fun it is to fly around a rink. Being cold and going fast are two of my favorite things, so what’s not to love.
Laughing, playing tag, and being a menace to the general skating public are winter traditions in the great white North. We make the best of the cold, and skating is right up there at the top of the list (sledding’s pretty great too).
Plus, it’s a great workout. I used up all my energy, so I’m headed to bed to replenish before I cheer for my brother’s hockey team tomorrow. More ice! So far I’m only feeling a few bruises, so we’ll see how that goes in the morning.
Sneak peek of tomorrow: