July 2003
Sometimes writing this journal can be a great motivator for me. I really did not feel like roller skating today, but since I needed something to write about, I drove to the park and wore my inline skates for the first time since last summer. Inline skating can be fun once I get started, however, getting started is not always easy. I like inline skating, but at the same time is a tremendous letdown. I cannot spin on inlines, even though my skates are rockered to perform similar to ice blades. I also prefer not to jump on inlines. The impact to my knees and shins is simply too severe on asphalt. This essentially restricts my inline practice to basic skills, an area that can always use improvement. Much of the thrill of skating for me comes from enjoying a brilliantly fast spin or challenging myself to create a more powerful loop jump. Unable to execute these advanced freestyle elements on inline skates, I quickly become bored. More recently, I have gained satisfaction from skating ice dance patterns at the proper tempo.
I stroked around the outdoor roller rink getting used to having wheels on my feet and feeling completely uninspired. I wanted to remove my skates soon after completing one lap. Why did I feel so blasé? The limitations of my inline abilities discouraged me. I am a rank beginner on these things, bearing no resemblance to my ice skating alter-ego who can throw a stunning flying camel or perform a decent Swing Dance. The paved trail beckoned inviting me to remove my inline skates and lace up my quads for a distance workout.
Unwilling to pack it in as soon as I arrived, I began to step cautiously through the simplest dance, the
Anticipating a roller version of the Canasta Tango for next week, I experimented with a chassé drill around the rink. For variety, I added some glides, pivots, and mohawks to the mix. I brought along the personal cassette player my friend gave me last week and listened to one of my favorite tapes. My usual habit of roller skating in silence certainly contributes to its tedium. The challenge of dance steps combined with a little music made my artistic inline skating a pleasant experience.
Week of July 6, 2003
Road Rash
Although I planned to ice skate at least once per week during the summer, I still have not returned to the rink. On a cool summer day, I prefer to skate outdoors, enjoying the pleasant weather and solitude rather than driving to a session that promises to be unproductively crowded. The lure of an aerobics class only a couple miles down the street also wins out over the seemingly interminable commute to the rink. Maybe next week I will stay true to my resolution, though I would not bet any money on the possibility. If a friend calls and suggests meeting for a session, I would be more likely to go.
In the meanwhile, I have opted for roller skating in the park. Since discovering the wonders of inline dance, artistic inline skating has become less boring. Working through simple dances holds my attention and provides a challenge just as it does on the ice. Unfortunately, my backward skating skills are still weak, which limits what I can attempt. So far, I have been practicing the Dutch Waltz and Canasta Tango. My overall edge quality has improved since starting inline dance. Next week, I might tackle the Cha-Cha and Rhythm Blues, though the prospect of those tricky “step behind chassés” on wheels intimidates me.
I walked back to the bench to change skates and noticed an obstacle course of rocks scattered across the path adjacent to the gravel parking lot. One of the groundskeepers had apparently just weed-whacked the perimeter, dispersing loose aggregate onto the paved trail. I slipped into my sneakers and proceeded to kick or toss all of the potential hazards back from whence they came. Content that these efforts would preserve my safety, I laced up my quad skates and began the next phase of my workout. Upon completing about half of my requisite laps, I observed the groundskeeper weed whacking another section of the trail near the unpaved parking lot. Again, the area was littered with ominously large rocks. This annoyed me because I had just taken the time to remove the last batch. Of course, I understand that these men must maintain the park and eliminating undesirable plant growth is a necessary chore. In general, this park is very neat and clean. I slowed down and negotiated my way through the minefield. A few minutes later, another worker followed with a leaf blower to clear the problem section. The jogging path appeared free of debris, but I skated cautiously keeping my eyes focused on the asphalt.
A flat stone caught under one of my wheels, suddenly arresting all forward motion. Unable to compensate, I went down, falling instinctively on my hip where I wore no crash pads. In fact, the Velcro on one of my knee guards popped open as my leg crumbled beneath me. Good thing I didn’t fall on my knees! Muttering a few choice expletives, I noticed a big fat workman staring at me, an amused expression on his chubby face. No one is surprised when a thirteen-year-old roller skater takes a dive, but a woman my age dumping it on the asphalt looks rather pathetic. I got up as quickly and nonchalantly as possible and continued to skate. Luckily, I was moving slowly when I fell and was not hurt badly. I only suffered a minor abrasion to one calf, the type of wound that turns red and stings when it contacts water. Anyone who has roller skated as a child would recognize this superficial injury as “road rash”.
In my third summer of outdoor roller skating at this park, this is the first time I have fallen on my quad skates. I prefer not to make a habit of it.
Week of July 13, 2003
The Bikini
It has been at least ten years since I last wore a bikini and doubted I ever would again. However, I have lost weight over the last few years and have dropped another significant sum since beginning aerobics last August. I estimate my total weight loss to be close to fifty pounds, twenty of which came off thanks to my exercise class. My husband and I are taking another cruise next week, and I decided to sew a bikini for the occasion mainly because I wondered if I could get away with wearing one.
Unfortunately, I selected the most annoying fabric to construct my two-piece swimsuit. It is so flimsy and stretchy that the needle skipped stitches and the entire garment had to be sewn between sheets of tissue paper. This extended a one-hour job into a task that took long enough for me to consider abandoning the mission. However, I completed the bathing suit and tried it on. While my body is obviously not eighteen years old, I did not look unacceptable in the bikini. My husband complimented my appearance. (By the way, he has lost about one hundred pounds!) He would not have said that last summer when I packed another twenty pounds of excess cargo around my hips and gut. I felt sufficiently pleased that I wore the suit to the community swimming hole.
Since this transformation has been gradual, I really cannot recall how I looked before, except that I must have been quite obese. Even fifty pounds lighter, a skinny woman does not reflect in the mirror. I would describe myself as physically fit with a muscular build, though no one would call me fat (anymore). I am not obsessive about digits on a scale and never weigh myself at home. Since I am somewhat tall and big-boned, I will never weigh a dainty amount. I judge my progress based on the fit of clothing. Recently, I discarded a sack filled with jumbo clothes in a charity bin. I cannot let my body get out of control to the point that I might require that size in the future. I also tried on my inspiration jeans, a pair of cute denims I bought on sale although they were too tight. I am delighted to announce they fit beautifully!
When I went to the doctor this week for a physical, my suspicions were confirmed. I had dropped twenty more pounds since my last examination. The nurse wrote the new, more attractive number down on a form and proceeded to take my blood pressure, which has also decreased. I am healthier and look better than I have in years.
Week of July 13, 2003; Part Two
Roller Skating: Then and Now
I stretched my legs next to my usual park bench, the place where I lace up my roller skates, both quad and inline. The rockered inlines waited on the bench along with my set of crash pads. The weather was already warm, and I did not feel like inline skating. Inline skating is the type of activity that I either enjoy or want to avoid. Freestyle inline skating frustrates me. It resembles ice skating enough that I want to try more advanced techniques but is different enough that overconfidence can be dangerous. I picked up the inline skates and carried them back to the car, exchanging them for my trusty quads. If it got unbearably hot, I could just skate laps. However, I formulated another plan.
During my preteen and teenage years, I was a competent roller skater. Although I was too young to participate in the roller disco craze that had swept the nation, I expanded my childhood sidewalk skating skills to include fancier movements that I learned through osmosis. A few times a year, I went to a roller rink with friends or a school group, which gave me the opportunity to observe artistic roller skaters. I also caught occasional figure skating competitions on television, though coverage was considerably less extensive in the late seventies than it is today. I taught myself an interesting assortment of tricks, including some simple jumps, spins, and gliding poses. I owned a beautiful roller Ina Bauer, one that cruised straight down the length of the floor, an ability I have never duplicated on ice. I gave up roller skating as a college student and have never attempted to do more than stroke around the paved jogging trail in my old fashioned quad skates.
Although a rectilinear set of wheels joined to a white boot still mesmerizes me with child-like wonder, in three years of quad distance skating, I have barely tried to do a crossover. I use my quads for exercise only; a low impact form of jogging that allows me to enjoy the sensation of skating. Since my primary focus is freestyle ice skating, I have decided to limit my artistic work to rockered inlines, which are designed to perform similarly to an ice blade. Quad skates are simply too different, and I fear building muscle memory based on this grossly divergent balance system would only confuse me on the ice. A quad skate has four wheels attached in a rectangular pattern to a chassis that consists of two trucks, which permit the wheels to turn. This freedom of movement allows edging, similar to what is achieved on a rockered blade or inline. However, each foot has four unique points of contact with the skating surface. When gliding on both feet, the skater experiences a four track system, as opposed to two tracks of motion with ice blades or inline skates. Some people find this situation very stable and less demanding on the ankles. I believe those four tracks of contact were the secret to my beautiful Ina Bauer. My wheels stuck to the floor, maintaining a steady course while I freely leaned back in a graceful arch.
I skated toward the outdoor roller rink in my quads and began to circle the coated asphalt surface. At first, I did not crossover. I forced my body to round the corners by leaning, just as a public skater flows along with the crowd. In an act of supreme willpower, I lifted one foot from the ground and crossed it determinedly. Working both directions, I developed a smooth fluidity that would have made me queen of the roller discotheque. The wheels turned readily and I continued my exploration to outside swing rolls. Surprisingly, these were easier on quads than on rockered inlines. I achieved attractive extension and a deep edge. I repeated the drill with inside swing rolls, something I can barely do on inlines. A few more exercises culminated in dancing the Dutch Waltz.
Buoyed with confidence, I proceeded to experiment with one of my favorite steps: the change edge swing roll. This move belongs on quad skates. I completed a few laps, becoming stronger and braver with each repetition. Soon I was skating with respectable speed, allowing my free leg to swing across my body and pull me to the opposite edge. An elderly woman walking the path with a cane watched me and smiled. I may have reminded her of the bygone custom of Sunday afternoon social roller skating to live organ music.
Possibly quad roller skating is sufficiently different from ice skating that I can mentally separate the two forms of balance. Hopefully this is true, as I do not want to confound my figure skating efforts with conflicting reflexes. In spite of this unexpected breakthrough, I am a long way from trying a camel or a mapes jump (that’s roller lingo for a toe loop), but I used to do them twenty years ago.
Friday, July 18, 2003
Ice in July
An invitation to meet a friend for coffee before a session got me to the rink for the first time this summer season. Although I intended to skate once per week, I have not kept my promise. The rink is far away and the public sessions are usually chaotic. As we entered the arena, the crowd did not look too overwhelming. I was hopeful, if not expectant. However, the ice quickly turned to a pea soup of children, camp counselors, teenage public skaters, and families. A couple of freestylists also joined the confusion.
While productive practice was impossible, I enjoyed the sensation of ice under my blades, the effortless glide that is impossible on wheels of any sort, the movement described in physics textbooks as frictionless interaction of steel and ice. Swing rolls traversed the rink easily, each push generating more speed than it could on roller skates. Ice skating is simply heavenly. As much as I enjoy roller sports and find them a valuable form of exercise and a necessary summertime substitute, they do not compare to the wondrous phenomenon of blade on frozen water. Unfortunately, complete dances were impossible. After all of the time I invested last spring in improving awkward step sequences, I fear I may regress to my unenviable starting condition.
I seized openings at the end of the rink for jumps, enjoying salchows with a new fervor simply because I had space and opportunity to do them. Summer skating forces ordinarily spoiled participants to bottom feed, executing a skill at a moment’s notice whenever a break appears in the pack. My friend coned off the center of the rink, as she and a couple of young people had lessons scheduled. I utilized the limited area to spin. I did not dare try a flying camel and only did basic camels when the rink seemed unusually quiet. A few day camp children watched as I centered a scratch spin. They “oohed and ahhed” and made various kind remarks.
A boy, who I estimate to be about thirteen years old, smiled brightly. He paid me one of the nicest most sincere compliments I have ever received. “Wow. That was gorgeous!” I would not expect a male child to describe anything as “gorgeous” but obviously this was a very sophisticated young man with impeccable taste.
Week of July 20, 2003
Return to Paradise
My husband and I enjoyed our first cruise so much that we decided to take another. This time we tried a different cruise line and preferred it overall. Healthier food options were readily available intermixed with the bad stuff that tempts me on every vacation. Of course, I yield readily to culinary temptation, which explains why (in addition to a genetic tendency toward massiveness) I have always struggled with my weight. I recently reported that I had lost another twenty pounds. Hopefully that progress has not been shot to hell in the space of one gluttonous shipboard week. Actually, after a few days, most travelers get to the point that they cannot continue unchecked feeding. Yes, I would like to indulge, but I physically cannot pack any more into my stomach. People on cruise ships cannot possibly be hungry, but put out a midnight chocolate buffet and passengers fight like rats for a bonbon. It is a disgusting display of consumption. Actually, I missed chocolate night, but I heard about the competitive chaos.
To compensate for over-consumption, exercise classes are available as well as a swimming pool, promenade deck, and small gym (which was too small to accommodate the guests who wanted to use it, never mind the fat slobs who should have used it). Unfortunately, aerobics was cancelled a couple of times, but when it was offered, it did not meet my rigorous standards. I found myself walking for miles around the ship on sea days to burn excess calories. I walked after I ate, which meant I walked a lot! Walking at sea is tremendously pleasant. I love seeing nothing but blue ocean and sky in any given direction. After walking, I stretched at the railing. One afternoon, my husband took pictures of my stretching routine. My right hamstring has been rather tight for some unknown reason, but I avoid favoring it and continue to work the muscle as much as possible. Even though I do not skate often in the summer, I try to maintain my flexibility.
We also snorkeled a few times which is an experience I would recommend to anyone. There is nothing more spectacular than a coral reef brimming with colorful life. I swam among tropical fishes, invading their domain as respectfully as possible. I encountered three jellyfish without being stung. Schools of silvery fish surrounded me, and beautiful blue-green parrotfish ignored the giant plastic-flippered intruder.
Now that I am back home, my sports priorities center on attending as many aerobics classes as possible. I also plan to roller skate frequently and get to the ice rink a few more times. This trip concludes my summertime gorge festival.
More pictures from my "stretch by the sea" session can be viewed in the photo gallery.
Week of July 27, 2003
Fun with Jumps
I actually ice skated again this week. A friend told me she would be at the rink, which encouraged me to attend. The session was typically crowded, and cones isolated some space in the center for freestyle and lessons. I enjoyed spinning in that area, though I could not justify too many dangerous camels in the mob. One adult skater quit after an hour, and I contemplated following her lead, beating the traffic home. However, the crowd began to thin, and I persevered. Although dance practice is virtually impossible in a summertime public session, I did manage a few rounds of key skills including various swing rolls. Without dance to occupy my time, I rediscovered other activities.
Given a choice, many people will take the path of least resistance. In an ice rink, this means public skaters will circle as close as possible to the orange pylons that delineate the middle of the surface from the outside track. This curious habit left the rink’s extremities virtually empty. I utilized this available ice to practice jumps. I probably jumped more during that session than I have all season! Actually, my jumping prowess has suffered slightly since adopting a dance focus. I simply did not have time to devote to both dance and jumping. Lacking the physical space and safe conditions to skate at top speed into each element, I concentrated instead on technique. I landed the jumps with my free leg still in front and extended it after touching down, giving a secure controlled quality to each movement.
The stag half-lutz remains one of my favorite aerial tricks. I performed many of them, stretching my legs to enhance the openness of the position. Next time I skate, I would like to explore the split half-lutz. I have experimented with this move before but never really devoted significant effort to it. Good split skills look very impressive. I possess the flexibility to improve my splits and stags to advanced maneuvers. Since I have never taken a bad fall from a split jump, these skills pose less danger than multi-rotation stunts.
Probably because I entered the rink with low expectations, fully expecting to leave unfulfilled after an hour, I managed to enjoy whatever pleasures could be coaxed out of the session. Those single jumps and basic combinations were such fun I considered trying a double salchow, something I have not attempted since last spring, but common sense prevailed.
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