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The Skating Diaries: The Next Step

Handmade skating necklace from
My second venture into the world of ice skating involved less laughter and a lot more fear.  I was seventeen years older and supposedly wiser, which failed to explain what had made me think that strapping two little bits of metal to my feet was ever a good idea.

I pulled open the heavy metal door and, leaving the sunny spring day behind me, I stepped inside.  I stopped immediately.  That practical side of my ten year old self was now my predominant characteristic. 

The door clanged shut behind me causing me to gasp as I swung round in surprise.  I wasn’t even on the ice year and I was a nervous wreck.

I took a deep breath of the cool air which was heavily scented with Zambezi fumes and indistinguishable chemicals.  I tried to remind myself that I wanted to do this.  However as I forced my feet to shuffle forward it was hard to believe that it was true.

Someone turned the stereo on and the Spice Girls blared around the massive rink.  It seemed I wasn’t the only one attempting to reclaim my forgotten youth.

Behind the wooden and Plexiglas barrier children and teenagers of various ages whizzed back and forth with the grace and elegance of ballerinas.  The only adults on the ice were the instructors who were clad in thick insulated coats while their students wore tight lyrca outfits that made me shiver just to see them.

After the obligatory lost feeling that always accompanies any new activity, I was introduced to my instructor.  I was issued with a pair of blue hire skates and found myself experiencing deja vu as I prepared to step onto the ice.

Stop by next week for the next installment as I embark on my very first skating lesson