You know, sometimes you just need to break the routine, do something a bit different. That was me last weekend. Woke up Saturday, and the same old to-do list was staring me in the face. Nah, not today, I thought. Today, I’m doing something for me.
And somehow, “skating in Glendale” just popped into my head. Don’t ask me why Glendale. Maybe I saw a sign once, or read something. It’s not like I live next door. But the idea stuck. I haven’t been on skates in, well, let’s just say a long time. Years, probably. But I used to love it as a kid.
Getting There and First Impressions
So, I dug out my old roller skates. Yeah, roller skates, not ice skates. This place in Glendale was an indoor rink. The skates were dusty, stuffed in the back of the closet, looking a bit sad. Gave ’em a quick wipe. Figured, what’s the worst that can happen? A bruised ego? A bruised backside? Probably both.
The drive over wasn’t too bad. Found the place, and it was… well, it was a roller rink. Had that specific smell, you know? A mix of old wood, floor polish, and maybe a hint of stale popcorn. Not one of those super modern, shiny places. This one had character. It felt like it had seen a few decades of skaters, good ones and wobbly ones like me.
Paid my entry, got my skates on. That first moment when you stand up on wheels after a long time? Woah. Definitely a bit shaky. Like a newborn foal, but less graceful. I stuck close to the barrier for the first lap, feeling like a total beginner. There were kids whizzing by, naturals, probably started skating before they could walk properly. Made me chuckle.
Finding My Groove (Sort Of)
After a few laps, clinging to the wall like it was my lifeline, I started to venture out a bit more. It slowly came back. The balance, the push, the glide. It’s funny how your body remembers things your brain has filed away. I wasn’t about to do any fancy tricks, mind you. My main goal was to stay upright and avoid taking out any small children.
The music was a mix of oldies and some newer pop stuff. Loud enough to be fun, but not so loud you couldn’t hear yourself think. Or in my case, hear my ankles creaking. Yeah, it’s more of a workout than you remember. My shins were burning a bit after a while, but it was a good burn.
What made it “great”? I guess a few things:
- No pressure. Just me, the skates, and the floor. No emails, no phone calls, no deadlines.
- The nostalgia. It really took me back. Simpler times, maybe.
- The feeling of movement. There’s something freeing about gliding around, even if you’re not very good at it.
- Just doing something different. Breaking out of the weekend rut.
I saw all sorts there. Families, teenagers on awkward dates, a few older folks who clearly knew what they were doing, gliding effortlessly. It was a good mix. No one was judging my very average (okay, below average) skills. Or if they were, I didn’t notice. Too busy trying not to fall.
I skated for about two hours, I think. By the end, I was tired, a bit sweaty, but feeling surprisingly good. My legs were like jelly when I finally took the skates off. Walking on solid ground felt weird for a few minutes.
So yeah, that was my great skate in Glendale. Nothing earth-shattering. Didn’t discover a hidden talent for figure skating or anything. But it was a genuinely good time. Sometimes, those simple, unplanned outings are the best. Cleared my head, got some exercise, and reminded me that it’s good to be a bit silly and try things, even if you’re not a pro. Maybe I’ll go back. Or maybe I’ll find another old hobby to dust off. Who knows?
