According to my calculations, aided by various social media histories, I went ice skating for the first time six years ago yesterday. This was my summation of the experience on twitter: “didn’t fall down enough to truly succeed at ice skating, but did make it around the rink a couple of times.”
Yesterday we continued with the New Year’s Day tradition and went ice skating with a large group of people from church.
In the course of six years I have progressed from “Augh! Why are there blades strapped to my feet? Augh! Now why am I on slippery ice??? *hangs on the edge for a while before ungracefully shuffling feet in an attempt to glide*” to being able to make actual skating motions with my feet and move in a slow but continuous gliding motion (until I freak out that I might be going to fast, because I still haven’t learned to stop, and let myself slow down to a stop before I start going again).
In the past six years I’ve learned a few other things as well, such as not being embarrassed to grab one of the plastic skate trainers (meant for little kids who are learning to skate) for my first couple of laps around the rink, so that my feet can remember what they’re supposed to be doing without having to balance at the same time. Such as knowing that I’ll have fun once I get out there and remember how to skate, even though it always just sounds stressful and terrifying when I’m thinking about trying to do it. Such as NOT stressing about my assumptions that everyone else is wondering why I haven’t figured it out by now, after seeing me shuffle around the rink for six years in a row.
As it turns out though, not bothering to stress about it was a good call, because no one told me I looked dumb, and I got a couple of comments about how much my skating has improved in the past few years.
I’ve been turning over in my head lately the ramifications of my 30th birthday coming up, and I keep coming to the conclusion that I’m really happy to be leaving my 20s behind. Not that my 20s were all bad, but the parts that stand out in memory are things I don’t mind leaving behind. I’m no longer single (as I was for the first half of my 20s), I’m less afraid of looking stupid when trying new things, and I’m more willing to say no to guilt related to having different skills and priorities and quirks than people around me.
As much as I sometimes feel like I’m still just bad at everything I’d like to be good at, the fact is, I can now skate around an ice rink in less than half the time it used to take me. (Even if most of the people on the ice are still passing me.)