Helen Murray | 2020

My first time at the roller rink was similar to many other people’s first time. I walked up to the guy standing at the counter with rows and rows of quads and inlines lined up behind him. He looked bored, and I could tell by the way his inlines were scuffed and improperly laced that this guy knew what he was doing. I quickly glanced at my ex-hockey player boyfriend lacing up his rollerblades and asked for a pair of inlines, not quads as I so desperately wanted. I thought quads were for babies and old people whose ankles couldn’t hold them up, but I had weak ankles too. 

I thanked the guy at the counter for my skates and he ignored me before I went to go sit down next to my boyfriend. I nervously eyed the rink as I strapped my feet securely into my rollerblades. Even then I still felt insecure and nervous as we ventured out onto the wooden floor. My boyfriend held my hand after my feet almost rolled their way out from under me, but he didn’t fully grip it. He seemed sure I wouldn’t need his help after a short while, and he was itching to zoom around past the other slow moving college and high school students at the rink. I made it around once with his help and several times without and that was enough to give me a taste. 

I looked around at the many people rolling around the rink and smiled at the diversity. There were college students from the five colleges in the area, gripping onto each other and laughing. There were young hockey players, zipping around, dodging the slower moving folks. There were moms, skating next to each other with ease as they quickly glanced at their children skating, falling, and getting right back up again. There were young adults doing various tricks as they sped by. There was every possible kind of person you could imagine, and everybody seemed to be having a wonderful time in their own way.

After I handed in my skates, got in the car, and drove home all I could think about was skating. The wind in my hair, the speed, and the freedom. Once I let go of my boyfriends’ hand, I felt like I was on top of the world. Then he let go of my hand for good.

When we broke up I was desperate for some sense of control. I felt an immense lack of confidence in my ability to be alone, or really do anything, until I remembered how rollerskating made me feel. I went to a used sporting goods store, not really expecting to find anything, but then I saw a pair of rollerblades in my size and they looked brand new. They had cute pink trim, too, not that it was important. I found out later that these skates were valued at over double the price I paid for them! I brought them home and would have put them on immediately if it wasn’t over 90 degrees and dinner time, so I waited for the next morning.

I went outside and sat on the curb right outside my house, not caring too much about the cracks in the road or the shallow slope. I should have, though, because when I stood up it wasn’t exactly smooth rolling. I fell almost immediately, but I didn’t let that discourage me. I stood back up, making sure to bend my knees and began to slowly shift my weight back and forth, propelling myself forward. I was doing much better than I could have ever anticipated, but I was still terrified to fall despite the protective gear I wore: a helmet, elbow pads, wrist guards, and knee pads all borrowed from my mother. I skated defensively, and not very often, because of this fear.

When the summer heat chilled into crisp fall air it was time to go back to school. I packed my rollerblades last, but at least I brought them and I’m glad I did. My housemate came home one day with a pair of rollerskates she found at goodwill. She asked me if I would go skating with her, because she knew I had my rollerblades, and I agreed. The tennis court was much more forgiving than the street in front of my house had been. It was smooth and flat, for the most part, and much more forgiving when I fell. It was nice to have someone to skate with, too. We gave each other tips, took turns blasting music, and laughed with each other when we fell. With her, my skating progressed much more in a couple of weeks than it had in the two months of summer.

When spring came I thought I was ready to skate around Hampshire. I had been practicing for over a year, after all. When I fell over three times, however, I got discouraged again. I thought about selling my rollerblades. I think I just needed time. I tucked them away for a while and took a break, and when I brought them back out again I felt much more confident. I even bladed around my campus before we closed due to COVID-19. It felt good to have made it so far.

But now it was quarantine and I was rollerblading more than ever but I thought that maybe it might be time to try out quad skates. I had more time than ever to skate, it was perfect! I thought back to the moment at the rink when I made my first choice, but I realized I could have both. I could have the speed, stoppability, and easy roll over rough terrain of an inline, but I could also have cute quads to dance and jam on, and to take to the roller rink. My quads are Suregrip Boardwalk skates in a rich black suede. I also purchased blue toe covers and red sparkly laces. They really feel like mine, more than my second hand inlines ever could.

My inlines gave me a taste of the freedom that rollerskating has to offer. I felt the wind rushing through my hair as I shifted my weight back and forth, and they took me from a trembling baby deer skater to a confident beginner. The truth is, however, that my inlines were always going to belong to someone else. I thank him for the introduction to skating, but I can take it from here. My quads help me reclaim skating, just for me. Until it’s safe to go to the roller rink again, I’ll be rolling ‘round parking lots, always practicing.