On Ice

Maple had her first ice skating lesson today. It was also the first time she ever ice skated. It was fascinating to watch her, because it was like watching her learn to walk. Back when she started walking, she was extremely cautious. She didn't start trying to walk until most of her peers were running. She was content to watch and (I believe) think about walking before she ever tried it. Once she started, she was slow and cautious. She was very respectful of her body's limitations, and she seemed to understand them. It was like she knew she couldn't walk, so she decided to go as slowly as she needed to go, so that she wouldn't ever fall down. And I don't think she ever did.

Today when we first put her skates on, she held our hands tightly as she walked, tentatively at first. But by the time her class started, she was jumping up and down on the floor, balancing well on the blades. When she finally stepped onto the ice, she dialed it way back. I could see her assessing the situation and realizing that the ice presented a new challenge, worthy of her respect. She moved tentatively on the ice during the whole lesson, typically finishing every activity (like crossing the rink) at the back of the pack, but never falling. The other kids were more reckless in varying degrees, and they all took a spill now and then. Maple didn't fall until the last few minutes of class, and when she finally did go down, she was pissed. But she got over it pretty quickly, and by the time she stepped off the ice at the end of class, she was smiling again.

I remember being the same way as a kid. In gymnastics, I always held back, doing less than my best for fear of getting hurt. I was the same way on the high school diving team. I was so convinced I would hit my head on the diving board during a reverse dive -- where you jump off the board as if you're going to do a regular dive, but flip backwards toward the board and dive in the water -- that I refused to even try it. I would jump off the board and just go feet first, straight into the water, over and over again. It was somewhat embarrassing. And I see it in myself now. I don't push myself too hard when I'm running, because my brain might blow up. This is what I tell myself anyway.

It's sort of fascinating to see yourself in your kids, and sort of scary as well. And it's so interesting how early some traits present themselves. I can't remember the specifics, but I remember when Maple started walking and I observed her cautiousness, I wasn't surprised, because I'd seen evidence of that in her before. Could we have educated her to be cautious that early? (Sean says he was that way too.) I'm not saying that it's a bad trait; it's just weird how things get passed on.

Today I finished my first week of marathon training. I'm proud and hopeful that I'll make it through the next 17 weeks. Sean is on his third day of the Master Cleanse. I'm amazed every time he does it. A great benefit of cleansing is that he gets off the caffeine ride.

Tomorrow is the first Steeler's playoff game. I've gotten really into football this year, and I'm so excited for this game. Let's hope it's not their last!