Swish, swish, glide, glide, glide. There she goes, sleek, smooth and graceful, roller-blading over the ground as if she were flying.  Oh, look – it’s me!

Sometimes, at the middle-stage of life, we are lucky enough to rediscover old hobbies or interests.  I’ve been enjoying the heck out of my roller-blades, aka, in-line skates.  They’re at least ten years old, bought when my boys were learning to roller blade, in an attempt to keep up or at least accompany them around the neighborhood and on bike trails.  They moved on to the skateboard parks; I retired the skates. Now, they hardly touch their skates, except occasional roller-hockey. But I put mine on whenever I can. It’s become one of my favorite summer activities, better than biking because blades are so much easier to transport.  Plus, a lot of reward for not much effort.  Good, outdoor fun, and a quick getaway.

We’re lucky to have some good spots at the Cape.  The Shining Sea Bike Path is wonderful, with a nice stretch right along the coast, past salt marshes and grand views of Martha’s Vineyard.  The path ends right in Woods Hole.  When my son was at hockey camp, I would take the SSBP from the rink into Woods Hole, stopping at the Pie in the Sky bakery for something yummy and a drink, and then make return trip. What could be better?  Maybe the bike path along the Cape Cod Canal, bridge to bridge, the refreshing breeze off the cool water, picnick-ers and fisherman, gulls swarming the schooling fish, cormorants diving, a parade of boats passing, yachts, sailboats and barges

I just love it, the speed (relative), the ease, the smoothness of stride, the views, and the fun.  It’s just such a feeling of freedom, the pleasure of getting into a rhythm, getting into “the zone”.  In fact, I prefer to go alone, not to talk or have the effort of keeping up, or keeping company.  First of all, to keep my own pace, and secondly, so I can have a few moments to myself after a houseful of kids and company, as much as I love them….

Plus, the fact, that by and large, my boys don’t care to blade with me. They’re so much faster, of course.  And maybe, it’s the outfit.  The green helmet, leftover from skateboard days, the black Velcro knee pads, and the single wrist pad - I’ve misplaced the other.  And glasses, since a bug in the eye is no fun. Or the mouth, either, come to think of it.  What is really un-fun is a spill, especially with an audience.  Or the more spectacular “wipe-out”, leaving skin on the pavement. My husband Donald, a very good skater, is sporting cuts and bruises this week from nose to chin to shoulder, hand and knee.  He’s not the believer I am in pads.  Still, I don’t wonder too much that there are so few other roller bladders out there will us these days, in spite of the thrill.

Excellent skaters that they are, my boys resist the invitation to go blading with me.  Maybe it’s the fact that, despite the get-up, I’m looking pretty good out there, for a 52 year old lady.  That kind of cool they don’t need to be around.

I know better.  In my mind, on my roller-blades, I’m as beautiful as a dancer, light on my feet, moving with speed and grace, fast as the wind.