Be the wind
The weather definitely plays a big time role in my emotions. When it's dreary and cloudy out I feel downer and more depressed than normal. When the sun's out there's suddenly no end to the joy I feel.
A lot of times I experience that immense joy by speed skating on a track around a lake. Parking my car on the grass on the side of the track, knowing what's in store, I get excited. I fold my glasses up and put them in the overhead compartment. I open the door and just to feel the warmth of the sun on my skin makes me giddy. In the dog days of summer the heat can get oppressive; and oddly, I love it even more then. There's something about pushing my body to its limit that I just can't get enough of.
I open up the back door to my car and pull out my skates, wedge my water bottle under the back tire. I have to wear thin socks to even fit into my boots, it's a very tight snug fit. Lacing up my skates is like a ritual, I have time to take in what's ahead for me, see the other people walking around outside, feel how hard and fast the wind is blowing. I leave them partially untied as I walk to my trunk to get my helmet -- the only protective gear I'll be wearing -- because walking on my skates loosens the laces.
Head wear on, skates laced and tied, I wait for all the cars to pass, and I put my first foot on the asphalt. Even now, after skating for some 10 years, it's still a little nerve-wracking to feel how easy it is to fall while on my skates. But that uneasiness is precisely why I love skating -- can't have the joy without the risk it seems. After putting my second foot on the road the uneasiness subsides as I rely on years of faith in my ability.
Hold my left foot study while I push off with the right, and again with the left, and the right, and suddenly I'm skating! There's just no better feeling than feeling the wind rush against me as I move through it so effortlessly. The first turn of the track quickly approaches though and I have to forego joy and concentrate on not hitting any stray rocks while doing a crossover.
Going down the shallow incline gives me time to conserve some energy as I rest my hands on my knees. Trying to concentrate on keeping my wheels straight and not slanted out. At this point I can hear my frames vibrate and that metal sound just emphasizes how fast I'm going. I use a particular tree on the side of the road as a guidepost that it's time to get down to the exercise of skating. Fold my arms behind my back, duck slightly, and now it's just my legs in control.
Straightaways are always the best part of skating as I get to take long strides. Momentum plays a huge part of everything, it's how I can lessen the effort it takes to go forward. It's what I use to propel myself up the first incline. During the first lap everything is so much easier, I have so much energy, it's so tempting to play with it and waste it by not being efficient with my body and going faster than I should. Being efficient isn't fun, no joy, but necessary for the later laps. Once I get to the top I rest some. I'm trying to increase my endurance though so I still propel myself forward.
The track is like a rollercoaster ride. After the incline there's a flat curvy section where I can rest some. But very soon is a steep decline.
As I round the turn leading down I listen for cars, watch for groups of people walking in the road, keep an eye out for dogs on long leashes. I don't have much time to do all this and my senses are definitely heightened, even listening to music is a detriment for me. With the way clear comes the excitement of rushing down the hill!
It's better, I find, to stand up straight, keep my hands behind my back, and slowly duck into a crouching position as I glide down the hill. There's a fluidity of feeling the environment through my skates that makes this easy. I can hear the wind speed increasing every moment I descend. Once I hit the bottom I have enough momentum to carry me all the way to the next turn so long as I stay crouched down. As I approach the turn I sit up ever so slightly to ease the coming crossover. This particular turn is the most nerve-wracking of them all because of my speed, I really have to work my arms to balance myself through it. My first lap I usually don't even do a crossover; have to get a feel for skating all over again.
Going down the longest straightaway of the track is very very fun. But for the first two laps of my first set I don't do any vigorous arm-swings to conserve energy. If the wind is right I can hear the metal frames vibrating again. It sounds so much like an airplane or an engine! I love that sound because it reminds me that I'm going fast! 30 mph one guy once said.
The second lap is tougher as I lose some energy. Going up the incline isn't nearly as joyous as it was the first time around. By the time of the third lap I've got that long straightaway on my mind. Crouching down during the steep decline I'm preparing for it. I'm going to just blow all the energy I can muster into going as fast as possible, screw efficiency, I've been waiting for just this moment. My nerves carry me through the crossover, confidence high by now. Instead of folding my arms back behind me though I leave them out, I'm going to need them. I have to work into a rhythm to get the best speed possible and I use my arms to increase my momentum. Timing an out-swing of an arm with the push-off of a leg is key. I'm even still debating whether it's better to sync my right arm with my right leg or use a different arm for each leg. Everything's a feeling though and I can only feel my way to the rhythm I desire.
Once I get it though it's magical. Skating becomes even more automatic as I use my arms to guide my legs into each push-off. By now I'm going so fast that any mistiming on my part will spell a vicious wipeout. I need to just feel everything, go with the flow, and trust myself. Doubting will cause me to tense up ever so slightly and lose the rhythm I worked to build. Feeling my skates slide to the side and then applying just enough force to keep me from falling is exhilarating. It's just a total abandonment of inhibitions and belief in myself. I can do it.
That metallic sound from my skates is very loud now, even walkers and sunbathers are noticing it. I have to admit to liking the attention I get while skating. People stop what they're doing and look my way, kids stare intently, some yell in excitement, it's neat. My heart beats furiously from maintaining the pace though, I'm definitely paying a price for pushing myself so hard. I approach the sign on the road I use as a guidepost to stop and I stand straight up and just glide. Feeling the wind beat against and rush past me the whole time. My lips are chapped by now, my throat parched, I need to rest.
Some people meditate by sitting still and folding their legs, I meditate by moving and feeling. I want to be the wind. This is the closest I can get for now.