Facing Your Fears - Part 3: On The Edge of Glory

Between my last post and this one, I managed to have Christmas and New Year's all in one day with almost all my family. 
Oh, and I also retired. There's that, too.

One day last week, when the weather was lovely and the sun warm, I took our 8 year old granddaughter to Skate at the Park. She had only been on skates once before, and that was indoors. Being the life-enthusiast that she is, getting out of the house and to the rink was a breeze. Sweater weather made things much easier. A relatively decent pair of rental skates added to the excitement - for about 30 seconds. 

You know from my previous two Facing Your Fears posts that I was just getting back on the ice myself. Inching up a slippery ramp and then helping my granddaughter onto the ice was a fear I hadn't expected. I was scared of falling, or falling on her.
"NANA!! HOLD ON TO ME! I'M SCARED! I CAN'T DOOOOO THIS!" 
(Deep breath.)
"Let's try using the buckets."
(Whimper)
"Okay.."
That was the start.

With temperatures again pushing 50 degrees, the ice was rapidly softening and rutting. That made the edges by the rail something akin to skating on a severe case of acne. Raised bumps and uneven edges were everywhere, making the task of holding on to her while she held on to the buckets quite the challenge. 
After much cajoling, and reminding her that turning can't into can happens by doing, we started to make headway.  About 30 minutes into the session, the "Can't" started to become, "Let me try myself but I want to stay close to the 
rail." 
I suppressed my inner Skate Mom and didn't even try to give anything  resembling "instruction" because it was not going to go well if I did - either for her, or for me. We set some goals of going from one panel to the next without holding on. After a turn around the postage-sized rink, that started to seem like a doable thing. One panel turned into two, then three.

But things really got better when my granddaughter made a friend named Olivia. 

Olivia was also using a barrel, but she was already stepping away and was trying things on her own. She and my granddaughter started venturing out to the center of the ice with the barrels. The squealing changed from terror to joy as the two of them figured it all out. Before I knew it, they were both racing around the ice at an amazing clip. The operative phrase went from "Hold on to me!" to "I can do it myself. Watch!" 

It was "Skate With Team USA" that afternoon, so we stopped for lunch, went back to the rink, got our skates on again and tried to find a centimeter of ice that wasn't taken up by all the people who had come out to skate with the athletes. At that point, I was exhausted. I had been on my skates for nearly four solid hours. I also had no intention of getting on the ice with the Team members, all of whom I knew. That would have been taking the Skate Mom thing to an entirely new and awkward level. 


At the end of the day, exhausted and exhilarated, we headed home. My granddaughter faced her fears and learned that anything is possible if you are willing to work for it. 

Me? I managed to do some very tentative crossovers for the first time in five years. 

At home by the fireplace that night, with hot cocoa in hand, we both agreed that we had accomplished much that day in the park, under the sun. 

And we agreed that it was just the beginning.

FACING YOUR FEARS: PART 2 - A Breath of Fresh Air

It had been a couple of weeks from the time I'd  braved the ice. My first foray was the most difficult. It had been a long time coming, a lot of pain and a few more years had floated under the bridge. I chronicled that event in my last blog, and then life started moving quickly as I found myself facing my immanent retirement.

Skating outdoors was the next step in my three-part return to achieving my "Bucket List" dream, but the weather had not been particularly conducive to doing that, and frankly I was not sure exactly where to go. I was looking on line to see about outdoor venues in my area when Skating at the Park came up. Every winter for a few months, the city constructs an outdoor venue in a city park right in the heart of downtown. The location has its upside - and some downsides - but it is convenient, and the view of the mountains is lovely, particularly in the evening with the holiday lights shining.

This would be the perfect place to start, but all my close group of adult friends who skate live in other places. I didn't want to go by myself, so I figured I'd wait and perhaps go inside one more time just to make sure I'd be okay.

Then, last weekend a friend of a good friend who had friended me on Facebook (that's a lot of friending in one sentence), sent me a message. She had mentioned before about going, but frankly I had forgotten with everything else going on. The message read something like this:

"It's a beautiful day! Let's go skating at the park.I can meet at 11am."

"I can't do 11, but I can meet you at 1," I replied. "I have a couple of things I have to do first. Text me about 12:30 and we'll go."

"Sounds good."

I finished my errands early and put everything away. Suddenly, a wave of nervous adrenaline swept over me. I started getting dressed. Nothing seemed right. Everything was either too heavy or too light. I couldn't find my gloves. Was I going to need a hat? I didn't want to wear jeans because what if I fell? I'd be soaked. There's no place to change.

And so it went - until the phone rang. Then everything fell into place and off I went.

I had only met Lori one time before, a few years back when Adult Sectionals were held here. She is a competitive adult skater and very active in that wonderful world of men and women who are totally dedicated to the excruciatingly hard work, dedication, camaraderie - and fun - of competing in this sport as an adult. When I came up to the park, I recognized her right away from her photos . We chatted, paid our admission, headed to the benches and put on our skates. We talked about fears; about what both of us were facing in taking this step back on the ice. I wasn't aware until that moment about Lori's battle with injuries and surgery, what she had faced, and her own questions about getting back after some time off. We inched our way up the ramp, dodging young children and some very excited foreign visitors who were obviously on the ice for the first time. We both slid our blades on what could barely be called ice because it was a perfect blue sky day, and the 50 degree temperature at 1 in the afternoon had turned the extremely small and overcrowded surface into a giant, rutted Slurpy.

I honestly thought I'd only last about 30 minutes. I think Lori felt the same. But, we moved (I'd hardly call it skating) around in circles, maneuvering around the masses, and talking about how difficult it is to come back to the ice as an adult after you've had life-changing events. Thirty minutes turned into more than an hour. In that time, we both laughed, gained confidence, and we gained a deeper understanding of one another and what it took for both of us to meet on that sunny day in the park, put on our skates and simply get started again. Each in our own way, that simple step was a huge victory for both of us. 

Friday, I completed my last full day at work. I have two more half-days before I officially retire after working for more than 47 years in my chosen profession. I have struggled with that for the past few months. I've panicked about being on fixed income, not knowing what was next for me or what I would do with my life after work. However, that one day back outside, talking with a friend, skating around in a slushy circle with the sun shining and the mountains peering over the tops of the buildings downtown, made me realize that somehow everything was going to be okay. I had taken another step forward and achieved another goal, and there would me many more.

That was my "Ah Ha" moment, and it was truly a breath of fresh air.