That day that I roller skated..

I walked nervously into the Rainbow Roller Rink in Conroe, Texas on Sunday. I did what has served me through so many experiences in my life. I acted as if I was not afraid. 

I met my best friend’s people. They met me. I felt on display. I felt anxious. I wanted to represent myself well. I wanted to represent my best friend well.

My best friend Beth is wonderful. It seems that most join roller derby to hit people. Or perhaps to hit on people. Not Beth. She joined to make friends. That is who she is. I am so grateful for her and for them. Roller derby has brought her friendship and community and happiness. She was overjoyed to share this with me. I was not so sure about this. 

I was surrounded by beautiful, amazing, athletic women. You would think I would have been in heaven but I became more and more nervous with each passing minute.

I believe they drooled over me a bit. Six feet tall. Muscular. Masculine energy. Athletic. I LOOK like I belong in roller derby.

Until I skated… But I get ahead of myself.

One handed me skates.

Another knee pads.

Wrist guards.

Elbow pads.

Everyone seemed willing to help this friend of friend succeed.

I donned it all.

I should have opened with this:

I have not been on skates for 30 years.

Let me say that again.

I have not been on skates for 30 years.

I have not rollerbladed.

I have not skateboarded.

I have not snow-skied.

I have not water-skied.

At least one of my feet has been firmly planted on solid ground for 30 years.

I was here to skate.

They handed me safety equipment. I donned it all.

At the opposite end of the building from the entrance to the rink. 

Possibly not the best plan.

They tightened my wheels so I would have more control.

Bash offered her hand and said "Let's go, Jackson."

Wait, what? I'm not ready. 

“Come on. You've got this.” 

I rose unsteadily to my feet.

What do I do now?!?!

I clung to her. I clung to the wall. I clung to any solid object I could get my hands on. 

I was a little old man on a walker with unsteady feet coping with a sudden upheaval of gravity.

I slipped and slid and hobbled and clung my way down the snack bar. Small children skated by me. All got out of my way.

It was not pretty. I was not graceful. I was not good at it. 

My face started to burn.

“Let’s tighten those wheels a bit more.”

They tightened my wheels further.

Again she held out her hand. “Let’s go. We’re going to go step onto the rink.”

I stepped onto the rink. 

If this was a Disney movie, I would have taken one wobbly lap, then found my grace and my balance and my strength and I would have begun smoothly flowing across the rink. I would have sang a catchy tune and possibly picked up Beth and spun her in graceful circles as an accompaniment of forest creatures on wheels danced around us.

My life is not a Disney movie. 

I am Jackson. No matter how many dates, no matter how many tattoos, date shirts, chaturanga arms, and sexy haircuts I receive, I remain Jackson.

It was hard. I hugged the wall. Bash held firm to my arm steadying me. We went back and forth across the back of the rink a couple of times. I was awkward. I was unsteady. Her firm hand on my arm prevented me from falling several times. My face burned. My head became a bad neighborhood as the young children skated by. I wanted to hide as her teammates skated forwards and backwards and sideways and all around as I struggled through my embarrassing attempts at something which seemed so easy to everyone else in the room.

She told me to wait. I waited. She went to get a rack. That may or not be what they are called.

She came back with one of the training wheel walker-like pieces that they have. A PCV pipe walker with wheels on the end. She skated over to me with it and I felt shame. My face was already reddened by the insecurity of watching everyone else on skates manage this better than me. This my ego could not take.

But I wanted to skate with my best friend. These women, this team, this sport, they had become everything to her. They had brought a happiness to my friend that had been missing for far too long. I wanted to skate with Beth. 

Only the youngest children used this support. But I needed to use it. There was no countering the voices in my head that said I was failing. There was not enough step work on the planet to make using this device alright for a 42 year old Jackson. But I was not given a choice. She did not ask. She said "here, put your hands on this. Use it for balance. It's ok. This will help you"

I went back and forth with it a few times, getting steadier with each pass. 

Beth reminded me of how just over a year ago I felt this same fear and insecurity about yoga. And look at me now.

Look at me now indeed.

I gained speed. My fingertips were just grazing the bars. I was using the support less and less.

A girl, maybe around ten, skated over to me. She looked at me and said "you're doing great. You can totally do this. Just keep trying". I got a little tear in my eye as I wrote that. How sweet and kind and supportive! An adolescent stranger gave me a message that I could not give myself. 

“It’s time to try without the rack. You can do this.”

She held my arm. She told me what to do. She calmly and confidently skated back and forth with me as I found my feet.  

Lean slightly forward 

Bend your knees 

Engage your core 

Oh! Chair pose! I know this one!

“We’re going to go around the rink now.”

And we did a full circle of the rink. She held my arm. I fell once, slowly, with control, and I landed on my padded knee, just as they had taught me. 

I rested and then we did another circle, feeling more confident.

“Look up, Jackson. It's alright. You know where your skates are, where the floor is. Look up.”

Then we took another lap, but she let go of my arm. She skated next to me. When I threatened to fall, she immediately grabbed my arm and steadied me, but then she let me go again. 

I would have fallen many more times if not for her quick reflexes and strong, steadying arm.

Yoga has done amazing things for my body. Did it enable me to skate like them? Like the child I was many, many years ago? No. But it gave me some balance. It gave me the ability to correct when I would start to flounder. It gave me strong legs and strong core.

I believe I fell four times. 

I will take it. Not bad.

The little girl would occasionally skate by and cheer me on. 

Bash did eventually leave my side, but not until I was confidently skating lap after lap on relatively steady feet.

I skated with my best friend.

We laughed and played and went around and around.

All were certain that I would be very sore in two days. I am grateful for yoga and the body it has given me for my muscles enjoyed the workout and did not suffer for it.

I led a snake line! When I found my way to the back from the front, they cheered me on. “Come on, Jackson, give it a try!”

Nope! I’m good here!

There were pictures and good times and someone was usually there to steady me when I started to fall.

I led a cheer. This part I could do well. We do not do this in yoga, but we most certainly did in soccer.

WHOSE HOUSE?!?!?

I do not know at what point my fear turned to joy

.

I do not know when my fear of what you thought turned into the pleasure of being one of you.

I do know how I got there. 

However,

I suited up.

I showed up.

I took a deep breath.

I stepped onto the rink.

Admittedly, it took a nudge from a roller derby girl.

But who doesn’t at some point in their life need a nudge from a roller derby girl?

Thank you, Conroe Cutthroats.

I had a wonderful time.

Can’t wait to ride again.