mortality on wheels ...

up until today, the most action my inline skates had seen this summer was the half hour or so that toonses mistook the laces for old country buffet. then i rolled them into the closet.

in the weeks preceding the half-marathon, i couldn't even think about my k2s. i felt like if i was going to shuffle along pavement, i should at least do it in my stinky old asics. introduce my legs to the process of running instead of push-push-gliding. i get that inline skating is a good form of cross training. i also get that everytime i strap myself to wheels, i am signing a consent form that says: i, christa, hereby understand that i may spend the rest of the summer in a body cast. that's no way to run your first half-maraton.

years ago my friend oregon told me this joke:

"what's the worst thing about rollerblading?"
[pause]
"telling your parents you're gay."

i never really understood that until today, scooting along the munger trail listening to the australian electropop band cut copy, i felt like i was one tight-fitting superman t'shirt from a cameo on "queer as folk."

i always forget that my first inline skate of the summer is a little rough. not so much oksana baiul. no, i look like someone who has accidentally found herself on the edge of a cliff. and when i started clocking my mile splits, i realized that a high school cross country team could easily take me in a race. i maintained that i was skating at least fast enough to keep the ticks off my body.

on the way back, a woman booked past me on the left. for awhile i tried to keep up. then i just tried to keep her in sight. then i hoped she was gone by the time i hit the parking lot so i didn't have to explain what took so long. today, for the first time in nearly 20 years of inline skating, i was mortality on wheels. i'm going to buy knee pads and wrist guards.