Me and Matthew decided to give in to nostalgia yesterday. After paying almost £15 to enter the little arena, we laced up a pair of hired skates and went onto the ice. Neither of us could remember the last time we went ice skating, but we were sure it wouldn’t be too hard for my uncoordinated, clumsy fiancé with no sense of balance to quickly grasp again.
We hadn’t even stepped onto the ice before I realised what a huge mistake I’d made by suggesting such a ridiculous date. I watched him plod along in his size 11’s towards the ice, already doubting the possibility of dreams I had earlier in the morning of us gliding across the ice, hand in hand, twirling and laughing…
So, so, so carefully we stepped onto the ice, and just wobbled for a minute or so. Gradually, instead of clinging to the wall for dear life, Matt finally began to skate rather than just taking long, hard steps onto the ice. Honestly, we shouldn’t have gotten so confident because it all went downhill from there.
The first fall was funny. His legs came right up into the air at a 90 degree angle and he landed right on his tail bone. Sore, but uninjured, and after a whole lot of fussing from me, we carried on like good Yorkshire folk. A few very slow laps later, but with a greater found confidence, he fell again, harder, scarier and in the exact same place. He landed at such an awkward angle that I’m sure it wasn’t just me that thought he’d broken both his arm and his neck. If it wasn’t so dramatic, I would’ve laughed. Who else could’ve managed to hurt themselves twice, in such a short amount of time, in the same position?
Eventually, I persuaded Matt, who was beginning to hurt from his fall, to give it up and sit down for a while whilst I get a couple of speedy laps around the arena in before we left. I shouldn’t have been so cocky – if I’d have left it there, I might have been able to walk today. Blisters, blisters everywhere… we’re talking 15% of my foot here. Raw and in such unimaginably awkward positions they can’t heal for long enough before being ripped open again.
Luckily, Matt’s arm and wrist didn’t swell and he isn’t seriously hurt. He’s a bit achy, but honestly, that could be because of the lack of exercise in our lives rather than his dramatic fall(s). It hasn’t been the most pleasant, pain-free Saturday I’ve ever had either – I’ve barely taken a step all day – but, like I keep telling Matt, the feeling of skating again after so many years was so beautiful I’d have this pain all over again if I had to.