Misadventures of an Adult Skater

Yesterday, I walked into a skating rink feeling lucky to be able to go there. I left feeling lucky that I was able to walk out.

I haven't had a skating lesson in three years, and I've only been on the ice once during that time -- until this month. A desire to get more exercise and to have some fun at the same time prompted me to seek out a local rink. I found two (!) near work and toyed with the idea of skating again. With supportive bosses and a flexible schedule, the opportunity was there. I could do it.

After much planning, I went and skated for an hour on a weekday. I was happy to find that I could still do some of the things I had learned several years ago. My moves were sloppy, but I didn't care. I was having fun and was enjoying the feel of being on the ice again. So I went back yesterday, two weeks after the first try.

Within my first few minutes on the ice, I fell while trying to spin. I don't know what happened. I just didn't warm up enough and didn't feel like I had my legs beneath me.

It's easy to forget how hard the ice is when you haven't fallen in a long time. I stood up and felt pain in my left knee and right hand. I remembered someone telling me before that it was best to keep moving your knee after falling on it. I did a few laps around the rink, thinking about the irony of being on ice and wishing for an ice pack for my hand. I took off my gloves and compared my hands. I couldn't see any difference between them, so I figured I was probably ok. My knee felt better, and I got up the courage to try spinning again. And again. And again. I still couldn't get it right, but at least I stayed vertical.

I skated for the full hour that I had mentally committed to, but my hand was hurting the whole time. So was my pride. I had to keep telling myself that I was twice as old as most of the people on the ice with me. A few of them had fallen too, and they kept going.

When I got to the car, I pulled out the ice pack that I had in my lunch bag. I sat for a few minutes while I held the ice pack in my hand. I thought about how nobody at the rink knew me. If I had been seriously injured, they wouldn't have known who to call. I would be "Jane Doe" in a hospital somewhere. At least they'd have the first name right.

Today, my hand is feeling better but my knee still hurts. My pride is still healing too.

The Best Way to Communicate

Part of working with others is learning how they like to communicate best. Some always prefer to talk on the phone. For others, it's a mixture of phone and email, or even email and text messages.

When I need to communicate a message, I think about the person receiving it, the length of the message and the purpose. I also think about my time constraints. For efficiency, text messages and emails are great. But I haven't been able to get to know anyone very well through these forms of communication. I get a much better sense of someone's personality during a phone or in-person conversation.

In thinking about some conversations I've had recently, I realize I would've missed out on a lot if that communication had happened via email alone. That voice connection seems to encourage more conversation. When someone sends an email, it's usually about a single topic. What's great about live conversations is the different directions they can take. You can start out talking about one thing, and before you know it, you're on your fifth topic.