This Is A Post About Roller Skating
I might have lied a little bit. This post isn’t as much about roller skating as it is about the lack thereof.
At the beginning of the summer, I decided I needed a new hobby. One that involved physical activity and outdoor time. Because I don’t get enough of either of those things. Roller skating seemed like the perfect fit for something that was balanced between exercise and fun, and could be done anywhere at roughly any time.
So, I decided to buy a pair of roller skates. It was hard to decide between getting inline skates or the side-by-side ones. I didn’t know the differences or pros and cons, so I watched a few Tik Toks about each. Ultimately, the inline ones seemed like the better choice, and I bought a pair. After getting the skates, knee pads, elbow pads, a helmet, all the necessary equipment, it was a couple hundred dollars. But it was okay, because this was going to become my new thing.
Except, it didn’t.
The day my skates arrived in the mail was the same day the outside world became hazy, smoky, and an air quality warning was issued. It was advised by officials and experts not to go outside. So I didn’t. But then the Canadian wildfires just kept going, and going, and we kept being urged to stay inside. So inside I stayed.
After a while, the air became mostly breathable again, but then I was due to leave home and go to LA for three weeks. Obviously I couldn’t pack my skates, they were huge. Not to mention how much room a helmet would take up.
Weeks later when I returned home, I got a promotion at work, and became a little more busy throughout the week than I previously was.
And then there was never a “good time”. I always had something to do, somewhere to be, somebody to see. So many reasons as to why my skates were still in the box. I made a lot of excuses as to why learning to skate just didn’t fit into my daily life.
But, I’ve realized why I’m so quick to make excuses when it comes to the skates. I’m afraid to fall. I’m afraid to break my fucking ankle, or twist something, or hurt myself at all. Though I’m twenty-four, I’m not in the best shape, and I’ve found recently that if I hurt myself, it takes a lot longer to heal than it used to. Things don’t feel the same afterwards. It’s like I’m permanently damaged from minor incidents.
While I was in LA, I hurt my ankle dancing one night. It hurt for days, and didn’t feel fully right for weeks, if not months. I’m afraid that if I get hurt, whatever I damage will never be the same again.
My father has a finger he can’t really bend all the way. It’s from a high school volleyball incident. He’s in his fifties, and it’s still not right. Sometimes things just don’t heal well, and if I can avoid giving myself an injury to have to heal from, I will.
Anyways, the summer is over and I never once adorned the skates that were supposed to be my new, fun hobby that would get me out there, get me active. It never happened, and I’m sad for it.
I know I could start now, but am I going to? It seems unlikely. Between my fear of hurting myself, work, my hatred of sweating, my lack of patience to learn new things, and any other excuse I can think of in the moment, I’m probably just going to avoid having wheels strapped to my feet all together.