These familiar babies have been hiding in the back of my closet now for some 20 years. Yup. 20+ actually as I think Mum bought these during my last year of skating in 1985. Small town Canada has ice rinks out the Wazoo so most kids are pretty much born with these babies on their feet. Mum put me in skating to keep me out of trouble and teach me how to fail. Yes. That may seem like some twisted logic but she felt that we learn far more from our failures than our successes in this world and one must not be discouraged by failure.
My size nine Wifas with the then spectacular MK Phantom Blades cost my parents a pretty penny back in 1985. I think the boots must have been $350 and the blades almost that, then. I'll have to look and see what it would cost me to replace them today. I skated for 14 years and by the time I was 19, I'd had enough of skating. I felt there was so much more to do, like, say tennis, and that I should play it instead. I think that I've had these on my feet about three times since, the last time about six years ago when Greig and I first started dating. I still have a second pair back home with different blades that were for doing patch or figures (tracing figure 8s on ice). Do they even do figures in skating anymore? I was on of the strange girls that actually liked my patch sessions as I found them meditative and therapeutic. And after all these years, I've yet to take any real tennis lessons. Sigh...
I've a collegue who works in the Payroll Department at the College who's been trying to get me onto her Precision team for I've commitment issues. Last year they made it to Westerns. Probably not that big of a deal really when there may only be a handful teams in Western Canada (BC to the Manitoba border). It sounds impressive don't you think, being a part of a team that went that far holds some cashet for me.
Lorna on the Serenity (aka Peter) had me thinking I should try roller skates and do that Roller gurl thing with those Terminal City chicks but I've actually never roller skated in my life. Small towns don't have nearly the amount of sidewalks that cities do if any at all. Plus I as much as I'd enjoy bashing those bitches about, I've had enough of injuries and really, don't like hurting that much anymore.
So the skates are IN the closet and are waiting and it was always such great exercise for my butt and legs that regardless of Precision or bitch-bashing, skating is still skating and I better remember how. Tonight, I went to the tail end of the public skating session at the Moody Park Arena.
Arena's have that smell, like boats do; mildew and diesel. Guess that is why the boat smell didn't bother me - it was a familiar kind of comfort. All that residual Zamboni exhaust, the smell of the ice, sweaty skates and hockey bags.I can't smell pine cleaner without thinking of mildewy, guy-stinky- sweaty, uriney- hockey lockers. Nope, it is not a smell that makes me think, "Ooh so clean and sanitized!"
No sheet of ice that I have skated on is the same. They all feel different. Some sheets are faster than others. I always felt I skated fastest on the Nelson Rink. Some stick to your blades where others make you feel like you can skate faster. There was a technique in tying my skates so they wouldn't come undone too. I always skated bare foot and had a perpetual callus around the ankles where the top of the leather met my calves. I guess I never thought that after twenty years the foam tongue would eventually break down and turn gooey. It left blue bits on my ankles!
Still, I think I am motivated to deek out at lunch time from work and hit the rink for a nooner workout. Gosh, maybe there is hope I can get that skater's backside back again.