I had done my second dryland of the season yesterday--it went well--and followed it up with a 6-mile "recovery skate" around the trail closest to my house. Between the "recovery"--that is, "slow"--nature of the skate, and the multiple streams flowing across the notoriously poorly-drained trail, it was a decent day but nothing to write home about. But today's skate promised to be better. It was a real workout, not just a recovery cruise, and my sister Energizer Bunny would be joining me--and we were going to a trail that is typically the cleanest and fastest-drying of the ones we frequent. Everything was in place for a good skate.
First, though, I needed a new Camelbak. The pocket in my old one was too small for my new cell phone, and I always like to carry my phone with me when I'm skating alone (I hate skating alone but it's necessary sometimes). So on my way to meet EB and her hubby Sherpa Boy at the park--my Hubster had airport duty for a friend and wouldn't be joining us--I stopped at Dick's Sporting Goods to check out the Camelbak options. Since the critical feature was the ability to stash my cell phone in it, I of course did a trial fit of the phone in every model I was considering.
You know where this is going, don't you?
I ended up not finding a Camelbak I liked, so I headed out for the 40 minute drive to the trail. When I arrived, I figured I better check my phone; I'm new to the whole "carry your phone everywhere and check it all the time" thing, so it's actually surprising that I thought to check it at this time. But I did...and, of course, when I looked in the purse pocket where my phone lives--it wasn't there.
I had left it in a Dick's Camelbak.
Oh, no problem, I thought, I'll just call them...oh. Right. So I waited for EB and Sherpa Boy to arrive, pounced on them and demanded to borrow a phone, and was soon verbally guiding a very baffled Dick's employee up the stairs to the Camelbak department, where she found my phone.
Crisis averted, and time to skate.
True, it wasn't the finest conditions for an inline skate--41 degrees, cloudy, and ultra-windy. In fact, I think I've skated a long track workout or two in warmer conditions. But EB and I bundled up--Sherpa would be biking--and prepared to tackle the 3.5 mile loop.
Why, yes, we HAVE managed to find the dorkiest glasses on the planet.
We set off on the first of three loops, and I led. This used to be just the natural order of things; after all, I'm the skating-obsessed one--EB majors in weight lifting and just skates once a week or so unless she's training for a marathon. The last couple years, though, I've found myself drafting off the (tiny) EB more and more often...and indeed, there have been many times where I haven't been able to keep up.
This was a state of affairs that I badly wanted to change.
Still, honestly, I promise I didn't set off with the intent of putting the hammer down or trying to "drop" EB...I just sort of got carried away. It was the first "real" skate of the year; I was feeling fantastic; and I had a fun new playlist to skate to on my iPod. This playlist ranges from Simon and Garfunkel's classic "Cecelia," which I remember dancing around the living room to with EB at the age of about six; to Snoop Dogg's "Sweat," which contains lyrics that are difficult to make out but that I'm pretty sure if I could hear them I'd need to check them out in Urban Dictionary to understand them--and then I'd probably wish I hadn't. But I digress.
So I set off, and I skated hard and just kept skating harder. EB was right behind me--in fact, at one point my newly-learned proper "recovery stroke" led to me kicking her in the kneepad, and many other times she had to put her hand on me to avoid running me over on downhills. So I figured she was just cruising easily along behind me, tucked into my generous draft and enjoying life. I figured, if she's struggling she'll let me know.
So I cruised. And it was joyful, exhilarating, fantastic. My fingers were numb and the wind was howling and it was freezing--and it was the most fun I've had since the long track season ended.
Pure joy.
And then we got back to the trailhead--after clocking the fastest early-season 3.5 mile lap I've ever done--and EB let me have it.
She reminded me--rightfully--that it was her first skate of the season; she hates cold weather; and even in warm weather she takes a long time to warm up. What the hell was I doing blasting off like that?
Oops.
So I apologized, and we went on and completed the final two laps at a more reasonable pace. Still, I was savoring all the little joys of inlining--the ice cold water from the Camelbak (thanks for the refrigeration, Mother Nature!); the smooth, straight, slightly-downhill section of trail where I could practice my long track technique and feel like I was flying; the song whose beat perfectly matched my stride rate. Man, have I missed skating!
After the final laps--and a couple more protestations that "no, I really didn't set out to drop you"--I headed for home (and, of course, a stop at Dick's to retrieve the errant phone). I spent most of the drive pondering the reasons for this unprecedented good start to the season. CrossFit during the off season? My new improved technique? Being 20 pounds lighter than I was at this time last year? My new improved diet? Probably a combination of all of the above, but whatever the reason, the new season is off to the best start in about seven years, and I couldn't be happier.
Pure joy.
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