Tuesday, July 1, 2014

A summer death

When I was a kid I was convinced I'd be the next Apollo Ono. My skinny little self had a need for speed and loved to be active. I was also a whiz on roller blades. Well, I was according to my elderly neighbor, anyway. Actually, I believe her exact words were, "You sure are an ace on those things."

I'd recently read the word "ass" in one of my chapter books and, since I'd never heard it before, assumed it was pronounced "ace." I looked up the word in the dictionary and discovered it meant donkey and something else not very nice. So when my kindly neighbor told me I was an "[ass"] on those things," I was perplexed. I eventually assumed the word had three meanings, the third being, "you are so good at that skill that you will likely do it for a living one day." Naturally.

But I digress.

I loved whipping around the cul-de-sac in my skates, practicing crossing my right foot over my left when I turned left and skating backwards without wobbling. I even mastered the "Lift your left leg up and out, and stick your arms out like wings" maneuver. How I could be so good at roller blading and not eventually head to the Olympics as a speed skater was a mystery to me. No doubt I'd go.

And then I discovered the 100 and 300-meter hurdles and forgot about my speed skating aspirations. I didn't, however, forget the joy of cruising around the neighborhood on a slick set of wheels, and continued to blade just for fun. In fact, roller blading is still one of my favorite activities to do when I visit my folks house.

My brother is a good sport and accompanies me on many of my blading outings.

Isn't he handsome?

If I had my way I'd capture some of our killer moves on film, but iPhones aren't great for that. Instead, I tried to come up with some cool poses:

It turns out cool poses are not one of my special gifts.

On Sunday the weather was so glorious we took our blades to the Columbia River waterfront. We even got Little Sister to join us!

This would have been the mother of all blading outings this week, except I have the same roller blades that my parents gave me when I was nine years old. I have never rotated or replaced any of the wheels, and my beloved blades decided to die on me a few minutes into our jaunt.

And now, I'd love it if you'd join me in a moment of silence in memory of my beloved blades.  

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when they died. A number of my wheels have almost no rubber left on them as a result of my avid blading over the years.

Poor little babies are stripped bare

So my new summer goal is to either rehabilitate my old blades or find some new ones that compare to my old ones. I think the latter might be a tricky task. My old blades love me unlike any pair of blades has ever loved me. They are the only blades I've ever owned, after all.

 In the meantime, we've been biking and walking, and today will be a day of frisbee.

Mount Hood is behind me

Mt. Saint Helens is to the right of my brother

Oh these hot summer days (and a body healthy enough to enjoy outdoor activity!). I love 'em.

© by scj

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