Buzz
It’s hard to accept that the 1990s wrapped up 21 years ago—feels like it should only be about 10, right? And now, I find myself struggling with the fact that I’ve crossed into my fifth decade. Mentally, I still feel about the same as I did in my early 20s, just with more exhaustion. Or at least I did, until I laced up a pair of inline skates for the first time since upgrading from dial-up to broadband internet (circa 2003, and no, they weren’t connected, most likely) for this month’s Mytour Fitness Challenge.
I didn’t have much of a strategy going into this other than enjoying the chance to buy new gear (for tips on that, check out last week’s post). I was an avid skater for over a decade, mostly using my blades as transportation when I didn’t have a car or bike (aside from those moody driveway-skating sessions at 14, pondering my unrequited crush—very philosophical of me). I didn’t approach it with any real seriousness; apart from learning to skate backward, the goal was simply to stay upright. But seeing if I can still balance after 18 years, three presidencies, two kids, and one pandemic isn’t really much of a “challenge.” Thankfully, my coworker Beth Skwarecki, Mytour’s senior health editor, found this book for $.50 at a library sale and sent it to me:
If you couldn’t tell by the TMNT-inspired color scheme on the cover, Liz Miller published Get Rolling: The Beginner’s Guide to In-Line Skating in 1992. In her introduction, she shares how she discovered the sport while working in tech in Silicon Valley during the summer of 1991. Born in 1951, she was 40 years old (just like me!) when she wrote the book with the goal of spreading the word about how easy, fun, rewarding, and beneficial inline skating can be for regular people. (And yes, Liz is now 70, but I’m trying not to dwell on that. Plus, as of 2019, she was still updating her skating-related website!) The book is intended as a guide for absolute beginners. Master the six lessons inside, and according to Liz, you’ll be skating with confidence—or at least avoiding constant falls. I may not be a complete beginner (I’m more of a veteran who’s making a comeback!), but as I flipped through the lessons, I realized I hadn’t given enough thought to the basics. So I decided to use the book as my guide to learning how to really skate, even though I thought I already knew how 30 years ago.
Lesson one: Learn how to fall (and not to fall)
No surprise here: After more than 10 years of skating, I’m definitely not a “beginner.” This section is all about finding your balance (i.e., can you stand on skates without rolling off or faceplanting), finding your stance (knees bent, weight on the inside edges of your feet), and mastering how to move, turn, stop, and fall safely without injuries. I was good on all counts: It turns out skating is a lot like riding a bike—once you’ve got balance and know how to shift your body to start moving, it’s something you don’t forget.
Lesson two: Linked turns, gliding, crossover turns, and stopping
We're still in relatively easy territory, for the most part. This section focuses on basic skating skills, like turning or weaving between obstacles without lifting your feet (inline skating mostly relies on shifting your weight to generate momentum), and how to bend your knees and shift your position to use your heel brake. Miller also introduces crossover turns, where you cross one foot in front of the other to turn. I found that I could easily do this when turning clockwise (left foot crossing over right), but doing the opposite felt awkward—especially with the large brake on my right skate. Liz Miller believes that, as a right-handed person, turning counterclockwise should be easier for me. She's right when she says that you need to practice on both sides to stay equally balanced. It turns out I’m not an ambidextrous skater, and years of inactivity didn’t fix that. So, I’ve been working on improving my weaker right side, skating in circles at a nearby playground, and forcing my clunky right foot to cooperate. It’s a challenging process, but I haven’t fallen yet—though I’ve come close a few times. I’ve even had to resort to the ‘windmill your arms’ trick to keep myself from falling, which, as it turns out, can be risky as you age—even if you don’t fall. I plan to keep practicing until I master crossover turns, as figure-8s are part of lesson two, and I won’t be able to do them smoothly until I’ve perfected them. (Luckily, I’ve already got some of the other skills from this lesson down, like skating while crouched or picking up objects while skating.)
Lesson three: Swerving, skating backward
In line with the unpredictable journey of a self-taught skater, I was pleasantly surprised to find that most of lesson three came quite easily to me. Here, Miller covers the swerve technique, a maneuver that helps you change direction quickly by skating in a tight circle. I use this technique all the time, which is lucky, because otherwise I would’ve never figured out how to perform it based on the confusing illustrations and instructions provided (turns out, describing movement in text is tricky!).
Skating backward is essentially an extension of the swerve technique—you use the same basic motion to turn yourself around, and then you simply... skate backward. Miller spends a lot of time explaining the process, but honestly, if I didn’t already know how to do it, I’m not sure the explanation would be much help. Skating is all about trial and error. And ‘error’ often means a lot of falls, which is why starting young and flexible is an advantage. But I'm committed to mastering step two, which should give me the confidence to try the more advanced steps in lessons four through six—though those will have to wait until next week.
