I’ve taken up roller blading. The joke is that it’s to save on gasoline. But it’s actually because I’ve done a lot of ice skating and how much harder can it be to roller blade?
Turns out, it’s a lot harder. Ice is slippery, but it’s flat. The roads I’ve been going on with my “blades” are both bumpy and hilly. The asphalt is pitted over most of its surface and worn away in other sections. I rarely take a stride when I don’t feel like I’m about to go down.
One set of roads in our neighbourhood leads to a recently paved sub-division that is blader heaven. The roads are smooth and even. I can boogie around in there pretty good. I’m not sure the residents want me there. It’s kind of a fancy neighbourhood. But I can live with that.
It’s interesting to compare the other forms of exercising and who else I run into on my circuit. Joggers take their activity very seriously. They look straight ahead, often listening to their i-pods and rarely exchange a greeting.
Bike riders are a more gregarious lot. After all, they can take a break while coasting down hills. This makes their whole experience a lot more pleasant and they’ll smile, nod and say hello.
I should add that I only ever experience these exchanges when I’m standing still to let my heart rate subside. The rest of the time, while in motion, I’m staring at the ground with borderline eye-strain because the smallest rock, twig or patch of sand can, and has, sent me head first into the curb or a tree.
There is no such thing as taking a break on roller blades. Roadside benches are a rare occurrence and when attempting to stand still, given the balance problem, stability is a relative term.
Bladers need nicknames. I’m tempted to go with “Bladder Blader”, since this seems the most alliterative way to describe both me and what usually brings my skate to an end.
I’m starting to feel a lot more confident on my blades now that I’ve discovered a simple trick. Not only am I wearing the usual protective gear − wrist, elbow and knee pads − but I’m adding an extra layer made out of plastic bubble wrap, both jacket and pants. This gives me the option of a second super-hero name, “The Bubble Blader”.
Now my only problem is the sweat. I come home smelling like roasted road-kill.
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For my first book, “Two Scoops” Is Just Right, please click here for the paperback version and here for the Kindle e-book version.
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