I just got this picture from Robin of our time ice skating in Breckenridge, and thought it would be a nice addendum to my previous post. Have you ever had an entire ice rink open for just you and your friends? It was an amazing perk of it being the off-season in Breck. We had a lovely time choreographing routines and kicking around a puck until we were told not to, and then my good friend Dustin had a brilliant idea. "Let's play tag!" Still feeling slightly uneasy on my own two feet, I replied, "Dustin, tag is a recipe for disaster." I was overruled. As the game commenced, I began to feel a little more confident and was willing to push myself a little farther. I was tagged, and began to go after my dear friends with a fervor not yet seen. There was a reason it was not yet seen. I got all tripped up on my toe pick, and in seemingly nightmarish slow motion, I lost all control and plummeted face forward onto the cold, hard ice. Pain. Lots of pain. It's a rare occasion that I actually feel like I'm going to faint, but this, my friends, was one of them.
I laid there for a moment, and Dustin came barreling down beside me in a sympathy fall, and everyone else made their way over. Robin told me later she wasn't sure if it was okay to laugh until she saw me roll over onto my back laughing. That was actually the second time Robin had seen me fall on ice, and it really isn't pretty (although I was told that it was a graceful fall). Unfortunately, the way that I fell caused me some throbbing pain that didn't actually go away for a couple of days. Fortunately, it didn't ruin the rest of my time with these friends, and we were able to have a lot of laughs about it.
For the record, the above picture was taken at the end of our time, after I had recovered from the wooziness, but long before I was able to carry anything... or sleep on my stomach... or drive my car... or bend over...
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