12 No More

I used to ice skate. I was okay - competed and stuff, but only until I was 12. I knew three jumps: the bunny hop, the waltz jump, and the half flip. Now, the half flip wasn't really a flip - but it was, like, half an axel or something (I think). You do a full rotation in the air after sticking your toe-pick in the ice and pulling yourself backward. I practiced endlessly; over and over, on land and ice - my body still has the motions memorized.

So today, I'm playing with the dogs outside in our yard - which is ice - hopping around to get warm. And it occurred to me that it might be fun to attempt a half-flip. The following things occurred:

1. Left hip snapped as right leg extended. (This, an unheeded warning).
2. Right ankle clicked and loosened as I pointed my toe.
3. Left knee groaned as it took on my full weight.
4. Left lower calf charlie-horsed as it struggled to propel me backward, spinning.
5. Head felt nauseous and dizzy as body turned sluggishly.
6. The force of gravity somehow increased exponentially since 1986.
7. Right knee crunched and femur threatened to snap upon landing.
8. I staggered, drunk-like, toward the garbage can, my tushi narrowly avoiding a nearby ice-bank.
9. Dogs looked at me with cocked heads, wondering at my loss of sanity.
10. Femur still hurts more than 1/2 hour later.
11. So does my neck.

According to my calculations, this is the only disadvantage of being almost 34, rather than 12.