Memoirs of a Fat Girl

I figured that today would be a fantastic day to start working out again. Great weather, a few hours to spare and, it’s a Monday. I figured it would be an even better day to take my inline skates for a whirl again, and an absolutely awesome day to explore a new trail I found. Good things all around, right?

I am now back from my skate, and have learned three very important lessons:

1) Check out the trail first, on foot, before you skate it.

This is very important, as not all trails are created equal. There’s pavement difference, smooth vs. gritty, distance, ups, downs, and external factors. Family places, for instance, are a pain in the ass. Quality workout skating does not include maneuvering around biking children and their training wheels.

This trail, I found out much too late, is covered with shitty pavement, gravel in places, sand in other places, tons of families with toddlers in tow, a wooden bridge, and scores, scores of Canadian goose poo.

2) Being an experienced skater means nothing if you’ve taken a two-year hiatus.

Taking long breaks from your inline skates is never a good idea. Unless you’re an absolute pro at it and always have been, lacing up after 365 days and then some, begets shakiness, uncertainty, and accident prone-ness.

3) Not experiencing a fall in over a decade does not, by any means, make you impervious to future wipeouts.

Ah, my first ever inline skate wipeout. I remember it well, since I was in the store at the time, buying my very first pair. I’d wheedled and whined to my parents for a set as my 18th birthday present, and despite my cautious mother’s better judgment, I convinced them both to join the dark side.

I was sitting on the bench in the store just after lacing them up. I stood, then whammo! Flat on my ass. I laughed, the store employee laughed, my dad laughed, and moms shouted warnings of revelation: Oh my God! You’re going to kill yourself! You’re going to roll straight off a cliff! And etc.

The second was a few weeks after. Improved somewhat, I was going down a hill at top speed, then turned into the parking lot of a high school. Going much too fast, I found out much too late that there was a hose lying across the entire lot, and there was no way I could avoid it. My options were either to go right over it, or jump. I jumped, and flew straight into a brick wall, face first.

My third and last colossal wipeout was a couple of years after that. I was 20, in school, and skating through a national park. On a dare I went down a really steep, narrow path that turned onto a tiny bridge. A second after starting, I knew there was no I’d make it safely across, and would most likely end up in the creek. To avoid this, I turned roughly into the woods, where I slammed into a tree then rebounded onto a sand patch. I was so freaked out by the whole mess, I walked back uphill in my socks.

Twelve years between wipeouts is a very long time, and the older you are the more they hurt. I discovered this not five minutes into my skate today, trying to go through a big scrap of gravel on the trail. I went down like a ton of bricks, falling right on my butt.

Sonofabitch. Children everywhere laughed and an old man asked, “Are you alright?” I told him I was, that my ego was bruised a lot more than my behind. And with everyone watching, I collected myself and went along my (not quite) merry little way.

Everyone says that when you fall, you’re supposed to get right back up, brush your knees off, and keep going. This is not true for me. When I fall, I need a good hour or so to collect myself, and then I can forge on. Not doing so results in Shaky Knees Syndrome, making more falls pretty much inevitable.

Do I know myself, or what? About 15 minutes after that spill I took another, crossing the wooden bridge that connected one half of the trail to the other. Back on my ass. Who the fuck puts speed bumps on a wooden pedestrian bridge, anyway? Do people walk so fast they need slowing down? Are there jogging speed limits? Does Superman exercise here?

While I can totally laugh at myself for one fall, I get mad as heck at two. Two falls. I’ve never fallen twice during a skate, ever, and I haven’t fallen in over 10 years. Even more, I get ticked at people asking, “Are you alright?” I know they mean well, but do I look alright? Do you think I like picking myself up off the ground, again, and dusting the dirt and dead leaves off my butt, again? Think, people!

I’d had enough at this point, so I took my skates, and walked my way over to a tree stump where I sat down. Definitely time for a pep talk, even if it’s just to get my legs to stop shaking. So there I sat for the longest time, while bicyclists and bird watchers alike passed me by, wondering why my skates were leaning against the stump instead of being on my feet, while over and over I repeated to myself, Get a grip. Get a motherfucking grip.

While I was doing this, a text from Oli came through. All it said was, PLEASE GO HOME. I’d been telling her about my journey, see.

So, after my pep talk and a sip of water, I walked barefoot back across the bridge, and all the way uphill. It’s not so bad when you pretend you’re on pilgrimage. Millions of people have done this for much longer distances and in worse conditions, right? At the top of the hill I got my skates back on, and bladed all the way back without incident, avoiding scores of goose poo all the while. When I got back to the gravel patch near the beginning of my journey, I took my skates off again, and cut through a big field to get back to the car.

I unlocked the trunk to throw my skates inside, then got into my driver’s seat quite painfully. How ironic that I’d come here to make my ass hurt with workout grease, not pavement pain. Feeling myself up for what I knew would be big, big bruises in a couple of hours, I watched all the happy, happy park people, sitting, tanning, walking, running, biking and stroller-ing. Then, something clicked.

There wasn’t a skater in sight. Not a single one. And, I hadn’t seen any during my whole time there, either.

So what then, children, is the moral of this story?

Learn from the mistakes of others. If you’re wearing wheels and see none of your kind, turn thine ass around and go home before falling on it. Twice. And, beware of goose poo.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to sit on a bag of frozen peas.