You know how sometimes you think you have a really amazing idea but it turns out to be a little questionable in the end?
I asked for ice skates for Christmas and Santa came through. Then I had the bright idea that we should try them out after Christmas dinner.
They’re very cool comfy skates that look almost like tennis shoes on a blade. They are NOT your mother’s tight stiff figure skates! The only problem, they are figure skates and somewhere along the way I figured out that I’ve been wearing hockey skates more often than not when renting them at the ice rink.
The difference you ask? No toe thingies. I know there’s a name for them but who am I? Michelle Kwan? Why would I know this? Let’s just call them toe picks for lack of a better word. I’m talking about that spiky part on the front.
As I twirled my way around the outdoor, Zamboni free rink with all the ridges, bumps and snow, I realized I tend to drag my left foot a little. Not in a zombie, leg hanging off sort of way. More of a “damn, i keep catching my left toe pick” sort of way. It took away from the beauty and grace and I expect is the reason I never made the olympics.
Well that and I suck. Turns out arm flailing isn’t nearly as pretty as you’d suspect.
Still though, we had a great time and D3 even held my hand most of time. I’m not sure if she thought she’d fall or if I would. It didn’t matter. It was a nice temperature, it was snowing lightly and the lights on the rink made it seem kind of magical. I was looking around me thinking what a perfect night it was.
Until I decided to be a dork. I had the bright idea that I should pat my sister on the butt and take off. With my mad skating skills, why would I suspect it wouldn’t go as planned?
I got the pat in and took off. Approximately 3 feet. Then my left toe pick caught. I flew through the air and did what would have been an impressive belly flop had I been in a pool.
Thankfully I’d taken my bra off before we left. It was dark and the underwires tend to rub on my scars (I should have started that with a TMI alert huh?). I say thankfully because my lack of bra gave me padding much farther down than I’d like to admit.
It did not however protect my knees. I know you were thinking it might but you really should be nicer to strangers!
I felt like Nancy Kerrigan after an afternoon with Tanya Harding! I hit my left knee cap and tops of my thighs full force on the ice. My right knee caught just under the knee cap and I’m surprised the nearby hockey players weren’t able to use it for a puck. I certainly felt like it shot out my hip and across the ice. I’m so thankful it was dark so I can pretend the spectacle I made of myself wasn’t seen by all. Please play along.
The pain of hitting the ice with the full force of my considerable body weight almost made me pee, scream and use every swear word I know. And I know a lot! My mamma taught them to me.
You’ll be proud to hear I refrained from the worst of them since I was surrounded by my kids, my nephews and several other post holiday meal skaters. There was, however, a symphony of words under my breath that would have made any trucker proud to call me friend!
After my sister inspected the big divet I’d made and stopped laughing long enough to help me up, I hobbled to the car and took those damn things off. I swear I sat there 10 minutes before I caught my breath enough to even unlace them.
I know I should have kept them on and gotten back on the proverbial frozen horse but it wasn’t happening. My left knee is still bruised and my right one is still swollen. I’d have given anything to be back in my stair free home instead of my parents’ house with their 13 steps between each floor!
I will eventually put my skates back on but you can bet I won’t be patting any butts anytime soon. Unless it belong to my handsome husband and he’s bringing me a hot chocolate with a little Grand Marnier in it.