The other day, I skateboarded for the first time in a while.
The kickflip I used to be able to do. Flick the board lightly, slide off with the front foot, it spins and I land.
...That was supposed to happen.
Only the me in my memory is incredibly good
But reality isn't so kind.
The board doesn't flip. My feet are heavy. My body gets scared.
And above all, only my past self is incredibly good.
In my head, I do it perfectly. The KAZUKIN in my imagination spins the board lightly today too and lands with a cool face. In view count alone, the best in the world.
But the real KAZUKIN is practically in rehab. Already at the ollie (jumping with the board, the basis of every trick), things look doubtful. Never mind the kickflip—first my body checks, “Are we really going to jump?” I said we are. Be quiet and jump.
Before falling, I think about tomorrow's lower back
When I was young, falling was part of the fun. A big fall got laughs and was even rewarding.
Now it's different.
Before falling, I think about tomorrow's lower back and knees.
There's a meeting room in my head, and agenda items keep coming: “Can I break the fall from this height?” “Will I be able to go down stairs tomorrow?” “Do we still have pain patches?” When I was young, this meeting room was empty.
Still, skateboarding is fun
Still, skateboarding is fun.
It's plain frustrating that I can no longer do it. But precisely because I can't, I have a reason to practice again. As an adult, “still having things I can't do” is actually quite a luxury.
メイクできないね・・
Summary
The kickflip hasn't disappeared. Probably, it's sleeping somewhere in my body.
The question is how long it takes KAZUKIN's body to remember it.
And another question is whether, before it remembers, my lower back will say “you don't need to remember anymore.”
KAZUKIN Rating
- 🛹 Completeness in my head — ★★★★★
- 🛹 Actual completeness — ★☆☆☆☆
- 🦴 Consideration for lower back and knees — ★★★★★ (new equipment)
- 😩 Frustration — ★★★★☆
- 🔥 Desire to practice again — ★★★★★