Saturday, January 29, 2011
For somewhere in the move I must have abandoned or lost my ice skates. I don't remember which, but I do know that I was without skates throughout grad school, but it really didn't matter, as ice rinks or ponds or Rideau Canals were not on my mind. And I biked to class all winter instead of skating.
Today, however, that lost past came rushing back as Mr. C and I took our three children to buy their first pair of ice skates and to replace my long-lost pair. And then, of course, we skated all afternoon.
It was my five-year-old son's first time on ice, so I spent much of the afternoon strengthening my quads in a less intense version of this position--
--as I guided him around on a "walker" for new skaters. It reminded me of a repurposed ab roller (from the 1990s).
But from time to time I was able to cut loose and skate some laps. I quickly felt like I was in the film The Cutting Edge (1992 version) as I realized that my old skates of yore had their toe picks filed off. But these skates would allow me to dig my pick into the ice and leap into the air, if I wished to do so (I didn't).
On the way home, my children all remarked that this was the best day ever, and that they can't wait to find a local pond. I promised them that we will do so tomorrow and then saw in my mind's eye my childhood PEI back yard, which my father had flooded and transformed into my private rink. Perhaps that's next.
And I'm really, really glad to be skating again.