When I was a kid my best friend Arlene and I used to rollerskate up and down our block non-stop every day after school and all summer long.  Frankly I’m surprised that the skates didn’t fuse to our feet becoming live parts of our limbs, much like people’s cell phones are sometimes just a growth on people’s ears.  My rollerskates were white leather with purple wheels and laces.  For my 11th Birthday my mom bought me a white leotard and made a special skirt out of this transparent, flowing, lilac colored material.  It made me feel like a professional ice-skating fairy princess.  She also invited my friends to come to my Birthday party at Skateland.  Yes, I’m talking about the Skateland on Parthenia in The Valley.  I have video, I swear.

When I got a little older the inline skate had become popular.  Anyone who could rollerskate was raving about rollerblades.  My mom bought a pair for me and one for herself.  She wanted to learn to rollerblade so that we could go to Santa Monica and rollerblade along the beach together.  We started practicing in our driveway at first, then graduated to the chainlink fence that surrounded Dearborn Park.  Rollerskates and rollerblades are very different.  While on rollerskates you lean back, resting your weight and balancing on your heels.  You used a lot of lower back strength to keep yourself straight.  Rollerblades require your balance and weight to move forward on your ankles, using different muscles like your calves, hamstrings and the muscles around your shins to keep you moving smoothly.

Once my mom and I got the feel for our new rollerblades we started to feel a little more confident, albeit shaky.  Me being a young and somewhat fearless pre-teen, I let go of the fence first and skated circles around my mom.

Then she let go of the fence.

She felt confident enough to skate into the driveway of Dearborn Elementary School without the aid of the chainlink at her fingertips.  She skated about two car lengths in a half circle, then BAM! The uneven pavement tripped her up, her skates flew out in opposite directions, and she landed in Jazz Splits, her right leg out behind her, left leg bent in front, dislocating her left knee cap.  Not only did my mom feel the intense dislocation… she saw it.  Her blood curdling scream still makes my skin crawl to this day!  Anyone who’s heard their mother scream like that knows what I’m talking about.

After that I wasn’t much for skating anymore.  I had picked up the balance of the rollerblade and couldn’t get back to the balance of rollerskates, though I suspect this balance issue wasn’t in my feet, it was in my head.

A few weeks ago I decided, for the health and happiness of my dog (and possibly myself), that I would try to rollerblade again.  Cesar Milan makes it look so easy!  Giles loves walking with me and running next to a bicycle, so why not give the blades another shot, right?  Instead of running out and buying some sort of skate like the ones Cesar uses, Land Rollers, I borrowed my neighbor’s rollerblades, trouped downstairs, buckled up, then begged my husband to help me get to my feet.

I stand at nearly 6 feet tall without rollerblades on.  In them, I felt about 8 feet tall.  I had on knee pads and wrist guards for safety’s sake.  I didn’t feel the need to put a death grip on the railing in the breezeway, but even with all this physical and mental armor I was still scared to death.  I did a couple of laps in the breezeway, under my husbands watchful eye, and with a huff of resentment decided that rollerblades in any form or fashion weren’t for me.  I’m either too fearful that I may hurt myself, or I’m just not that athletically inclined.  I could just see myself in this position with my dog jumping all over me.

Giles telepathically suggested I stick with a Schwinn.  I’m taking his advice and saving some money.  Exercise, discipline, affection here we come!  Thanks, Cesar Milan, our Dog Whisperer.