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?"
"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.