Whoosh! And She’s Off!
And She’s Down.
And she’s up.
….Sort of.

City-Kid Review:

Go Mummy!
Look at me.
Go Mummy!

New York offers so many opportunities to skate. It is a beautiful thing.

A percentage of the ticket price to some of the rinks go to an organization owned by our 45th president but, should you wish to skate in Central Park, don’t let that put you off. If you can go, do. The skill and style of some New Yorkers dancing on the ice should be considered for the Olympics. And all of that bracing fresh air? It is exhilarating.

Okay, that’s the self-pep talk…..

I grew up in London. The weather in that part of the UK is not as extreme as elsewhere in the world and an inch of snow can cause a capital city shutdown. As such, ice skating is not really a part of the culture as it is, say in, Northern North America where snow is a more regular part of life.

As a consequence, there were few skating rinks when I was growing up. And it was a hike to get to them. I remember gaggles of us teenagers galavanting off to Richmond icerink. It took forever to get there but it was fun when we did. But the distance- and my lack of ability – were worthy deterrents.

…I have to own up….

As an adult, for several years, I lived downhill from Alexander Palace. Ally Pally, as it is colloquially called, was a large ‘palace’ built by Prince Alexandra, for us commoners. It stands proudly atop a hill in north London and ensconced within in its eastern  wing is, you guessed it, an ice rink. Had I been braver, more inclined and more ambitious, an available rink was just a short walk uphill away.

I am simply not that fond of falling down. Which I do when I skate. A lot. At least, the fear of falling down can be paralyzing to me.  So, I don’t. That’s okay, right? It’s a life decision.

Well, no. Not anymore.

Roll on this American winter. We have a city kid who loves to do anything physical and that includes ice-skating. There is a kid-parent class and a component of that class is….the parent.  And this parent can’t skate. Hmm. Combine this dilemma with a 15% off sale for lessons, and here I am, frozen up on the ice.

For the first class, I could barely walk onto the ice rink. The instructor gently coaxed me and I would stand stock-still, saying, ‘this is it. This is as far as I can go. I cannot move.’ She spent the entire class, wonderful woman that she is, holding my hand and skating with me. I say skating. She was skating. Me? I was doing a wobbling zombie walk.

Eventually, she let go of my hand and I had to raise my hands up at a right angle to my body and march across the ice. More zombie skating – maybe that’s the secret? At one point, I fell down. Of course I fell down!
In all of my padded clothing, I felt like the inside of a bread loaf fallen off a shelf. No matter how my teacher coached and coaxed me, I could not get up.

A few classes later and I can now walk across the ice.
It is still undignified.
It is still ungainly.
An ice-gazelle I am not.

However, I do not have the  terror freezing my veins. Now it has thawed into mid-high anxiety.

And City Kid? Whizzing across the ice. Exactly as it should be.

Need to Knows:

There are many ice skating rinks in the city. There are, at least, six in Manhattan – three city rinks, the rest private or in federal – one in Staten Island, one in Queens and two in Brooklyn. You can find out all about them, where they are and how much they cost, here and here.

Top-Tip

Bring a flask of something warm to drink, although they usually do have some sort of hot drinks machine. It may not taste that great, but it’s sugary sweet and it all keeps you warm, right?

Do you have a NYC skating story you can share with us?  Please do, in the comments below.

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