Sunday, September 2, 2012

Spectator Sport: Ice Skating Rink



  The gleaming, unstained pair of white ice skate shoes caught my innocent, brown eyes. "Size 38, please." I said stutteringly to the shoes keeper, getting all apprehensively excited and nervous to give ice skating another try. It's been quite of a long time after I last landed my feet on the icy surface, and I missed it a lot. Thankfully, the shoes fit me perfectly, and I was ready to glide on a new, beguiling journey.
 As I entered the rink, I can feel the fresh breeze of the cool atmosphere swirling around my hair as if it was about to whisper in my ears, and the gloss of the polished surface welcoming the presence of my petite feet. I slowly glided to the right, then to the left, trying to remain vertically balanced. Tons of people were at the rink, all with different levels of abilities to skate. One small, seven-year-old kid skated adorably that I was so fascinated by him, I gaped at the amazing, flexible tricks he could do. On the right corner of the rink, I could see ice skate mentors (aka professionals) teaching people of different ages how to carefully skate. On the left side of the rink, some lovely love birds, by that I mean couples, were happily ice skating, being all sweet, creating their own space with full of joy and romance. I was enjoying decent views of the rink until…
 Swoosh, swoosh, swoooooosh. An ignoble guy glided speedily from behind, showing his “oh so cool” ice skating ability as if it’s the end of the world. "Whoops, sorry! Didn't mean to make you fall" he said, as he skated across the rink. I nearly fell, and no I didn’t just nearly fell, I tripped, tremendously hard. It hurts. I pacifically got up as if I didn’t feel pain, and I held on to the metallic poles surrounding the rink whenever I feel like falling again. Other than getting all terrified by the thought, though, I was in no doubt, enjoying myself so much. Ah, the smell of ice. That relaxed, calm, and stress free feeling when you can actually feel the soothing smell of the ice. No, not the smell of my, his, her, or your feet that can ruin the thought of how pleasurable it may actually smell like, but the ice. It’s just…comforting, to me.
 Seconds, minutes, an hour passed by. The rink needs to be cleared, and the surface needs to be smoothened. We were asked to leave the rink for a short time, while the big, blue-colored Zamboni is going to clean the ice and make it spotless again. Vroom, vroom, vroom, it cleaned the whole rink. Before we may enter back in, while the surface was still really smooth, professional ice skaters danced and glided on the surface. A beautiful, long-haired lady, impressed me by her elegant presence. Her flamboyant dress was beamingly sparkling, and her pleasant, dazzling moves were gorgeous. She twirled across the rink, perfectly jumped as she spins in the middle, and the spotlight iridescently shined on her. She was, one word: inspirational.
 After the whole, exhausting but terrific experience, the day ended pleasantly, and I was satisfied by the fulfilled desire I used to have.


Ice Skating Rink<3