Born on eight wheels

I am gliding around the rink in an arabesque, arms outstretched elegantly behind me, extending the perfect line. Watch me execute this triple-salchow and launch straight into a round of tight spins, arms crossed, body stiff and taught in perfect pike position. I am Kristy Yamaguci’s wheeled alter ego. No…no, wait. I'm falling on my ass…

I trained hard for this moment of triumph, downing seven drinks of Mexican origin thirty-minutes prior to performance. I was sure the guacamole appetizer would heighten my sense of balance. Certain the vegetables in my wild card tacos would both improve my eyesight and directly feed my motor skills. And now I am polishing the floor of the Roxy with the knees of my jeans.

Oh the delicate balance of pain and pleasure as I slide across the wood on my kneecaps with the lumbering grace of an ice borne penguin. I am Nancy Kerrigan: frightfully injured, but a champion nonetheless. I am a girl who believes ice-skating and roller-skating are basically the same sport. A girl who knows the names of two professional female ice skaters and isn’t afraid to use them in the cheesiest, most obvious athletic metaphors.

It is the morning after and I am black and blue. Responsible party: the roller DJ who played Alicia Keys' Olympics-routine-worthy ballad, “If I Ain’t Got You.”