Tag Archives: skateboarding

Rule Breaker

If you obey all the rules you miss all the fun. ~Katharine Hepburn

Having the time of my life.

Forty-nine years, 346 days. That’s how old I am as I draft this post. I will be 50 years old at the end of this month. This is a monumental birthday for me. It has certainly given me pause to think. I think about the fact that I’m now in the last half of life. I spend a great deal of time thinking about the fact that I’m (soon to be) 50 with a five year old with developmental challenges—and worry greatly about being here wholly, completely and physically for him as he grows up. I think about the fact that I’m not as sharp (in any respect) as I used to be. I think about the fact that my husband and I will most likely have to work every day we’re above ground in order to maintain life, as we know it. Please don’t misunderstand me. These are not regrets. They’re merely realities—realities you don’t think about at 20, 30 or probably even 40. (At least I didn’t.) But 50? Well that’s a whole other ballgame.

There is another side to the coin though. In addition to concerns I have about life, I also spend a great deal of time reflecting on how richly I’ve been blessed throughout my life. I didn’t always see it that way. I had many, many struggles as a young adult. I carried a lot of bitterness, disappointment and regret around. But I’m so thankful God has lifted those burdens from my shoulders. Grace covers a lifetime of heartache, and I am eternally grateful to Him for that.

Yet another byproduct of turning 50 is permission I’ve given myself to live a little—for me. As the majority of wives and mothers do, I’ve spent a good deal of my life living to care for others. We inherently put the needs of others above our own. I know I do. And I’m more than okay with that. I’m grateful to have a family who needs me. However, wives and mothers also need to feed our own spiritual and emotional selves. The last five years have been very challenging, and at times draining. That’s the nature of the beast. But I’ve recently found something I enjoy immeasurably. Skateboarding. Yes, you read that correctly. Skateboarding.

Greg and I initially bought boards in February so we could accompany Jackson to the skate park. Jackson has always loved to ride his scooter—something that required me to run alongside him—neck-and-neck, for safety’s sake. I was OVERJOYED (let me say that again—OVERJOYED!) to learn he could ride his scooter at the local skate park, as it was getting more difficult for me to keep up with him. (See paragraph one RE: lack of sharpness.) I thought the skate park would afford me the opportunity to put my feet up and relax while Jackson rode his scooter. Boy was I wrong!

Greg and I quickly learned how much fun it is to skateboard. We bought boards and started to skate ourselves. Then we bought new boards because we learned that our original boards were for “cruising.” Cruising? We wanted to skate!  We didn’t want to just putter around the park. We wanted to skate ramps and bowls! We wanted to drop in! And so we did. And you know what? We’ve been having the time of our lives! Literally. We go to the skate park as often as we can. Jackson rides his scooter and Greg and I skate. We encourage each other, watch each other’s progress and celebrate each other’s accomplishments. It is truly a family affair.

I recently treated myself to lessons for my upcoming birthday. I scheduled seven lessons with a young man named Tommy who works at our local skate park. Unfortunately, our final lesson was rained out. (I was deeply saddened.) Tommy was a saint. A saint! He could’ve taken one look at this middle-aged mother and begged off. But he didn’t. And I am so grateful for that. Not only is Tommy a great instructor; he’s truly a great person. (Tommy, your folks got it right.) My life is richer for the six hours I spent with this young man. I was drawn out of my comfort level every minute we were together. He had me skating switch/fakie at heights and speeds WAY above my comfort zone. And equally death-defying—Tommy had me dropping in independently by the end of our time together.

Here’s a video of my first independent drop in.

http://on.fb.me/1wjdUKM

I took a few spills, which were never Tommy’s doing. I simply didn’t know what to do with myself post maneuver. But I got up and kept going.

Overestimated my abilities to fakie a steep ramp, post drop in.

Overestimated my abilities to fakie a steep ramp, post drop in.

I learned so much from Tommy, not only about skateboarding, but also about myself. I learned that even at fifty I’m still as curious and tenacious as I was at 20, 30 and 40. But more importantly, I’m more intuitive and open to correction and instruction than I was at those ages. My life is so much richer for those six short hours. I’m so thankful I took that step and that time for myself. Contusions aside, I have a newfound appreciation for this body God has created, a deeper love for skating, a greater gratitude for my tenacity, and a new friend I hold dear to my heart. Thank you, Tommy, for letting me fly.

At work, pre-lesson.

At work, pre-lesson.

Sweaty! Tommy and me apres lesson (and first independent drop in).

 

The Family that Skates & Scoots Together…

Jackson and mom--skating and scootingFor the past few weeks, I’ve been mulling over a post about our family’s newest hobby.  At the tender young ages of 45 and 49 respectively, my husband and I have taken up skateboarding.  I don’t mean tooling around, meandering the neighborhood, while taking in the sights.  We’re hanging with the big dogs at our local skate parks.  No.  We’re not crazy.  This came about because of the importance we place on family time.  Jackson loves to ride his scooter, and he’s very good at it.  He’s agile.  He’s graceful. And he’s FAST.  When Jackson scoots around the neighborhood, safety dictates that I run in tandem with him so I can monitor driveway traffic.  This means I’m sprinting for one to three miles at a given time.    One recent Sunday afternoon, we took Jackson to the skate park simply as an outlet for him.   My husband and I decided to give it a try too, so we could make the outings truly about family.  We’ve been hooked ever since.

 

Jackson and dad, learning the ropes.

Jackson and dad, learning the ropes.

I had so many amusing things to say in my originally intended post.  I was going to speak about the fact that I skate with orthotics in my Vans and use an SPF of 50 religiously.  I was going to talk about the fact that it takes a good 15 minutes to get the joints, tendons and bones adequately lubed in my feet and ankles.  And I was also going to mention how tolerant and even accepting most of the young whippersnappers are.  Aside from a few occasionally potty-mouthed teens (which are dutifully kept in check by fearless skate park manager Michelle), we’ve not had a bad experience.  Until today, that is.

Going down (and stimming all the way).

Going down (and stimming all the way).

As is with most Sunday afternoons as of late, we went to our local skate park following church.  Our friend, Paul, joined us.   The four of us were having a great time.  We skated and scooted hard, working up a sweat.  We were all attempting new things and chatting up the really young kids who are beyond encouraging.  Jackson was doing his thing, going up and down hills and riding his scooter around the park.  I was standing on top of a hill with my new “friend,” Sam, when a young boy ascended the ramp and stopped in front me.  The boy was around eight or so.  He mumbled something to me but I didn’t understand what he said.  I asked him to repeat himself, which he did.  He said, “Make him stop.”  I asked, “Make him stop what?”  He said, “Skating.  He’s creeping me out.”  I was utterly taken aback, but replied, “No.  He’s just scooting.”  He said, “No.  He’s not,” and skated away.  I knew exactly what he was referring to.

Sam, also around 8, overheard the conversation and asked me what the boy was talking about.  I simply explained that Jackson sometimes makes noises.  I loved Sam’s muttered reply to the already-gone boy, “Get over it.”  I wasn’t completely surprised this happened.  I expected it.  Someday.  Nonetheless, I wasn’t prepared for it.

You see, Jackson verbally self stimulates.  [http://www.autism.com/index.php/symptoms_self-stim]  He makes sounds.  All.  Day.  Long.  Seriously.  He’s done it for years and rarely stops, if ever.  I took Jackson to the skate park on a school holiday this past week.  I chose not to skate with him, as we were running some errands afterward.  As I watched Jackson from the observation deck, I heard him clearly.  He was uttering endless variations of completely nonsensical words and sounds.  I could see some of the older children looking at him with curiosity.  It was in watching the kids’ reactions that I knew someone someday would say something.  I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.  He’s only five.  Five!  For Pete’s sake, Jackson’s only five.

My initial gut reaction (which I DID NOT act upon) was to say, YOU creep ME out, you little brat.”  THANK YOU, LORD, for reigning in my tongue.   You can come at me all day long; just don’t you dare come at those I love.  I will defend my brood to the end.  I promise you that.

I’m profoundly sad about today’s event.  I get a lump in my throat every time I call it to memory.  I’m not sad for myself, mind you.  I’m sad for Jackson and the unkind people he will encounter throughout his life.  He has such tenderness about him.  Heck.  This is the boy that asks every single person who falls at the skate park (and there are many), “Are you okay?”  He’s kind.  He’s considerate.  He’s loving.  He’s trusting.  And people are going to break his heart and crush his spirit.  That’s the nature of us human beings.  As a whole, we don’t tolerate different no matter the age.  The mere thought of this shatters my heart.