When I was a kid, back in the '70s, my friends and I spent a lot of time skating. There was a period there when skating was cool, everyone was into Roller Derby or Roller Boogie or Roller Disco. I spent at least one night a week at the local roller rink, strutting my stuff in bell-bottoms and rock concert jersey, long hair parted in the middle and feathered back just so, big old Goody comb sticking out of my back pocket to keep it that way.

I even had my own skates, a Christmas present from my parents one year, solid black leather with charcoal gray wheels (two in the front and two in the back, not four in-line) and a custom carrying case. With those things on my feet, I could hokey-pokey with the best of them.

I eventually outgrew those roller skates. By that time I was in my teens and roller skating wasn't so cool any more. I switched to ice skating, even played a little recreational hockey. Bought a pair of hockey skates that I still own and probably still fit me, though they haven't seen ice in many years.

So recently I was talking to some co-workers about my efforts to beat back the middle-age paunch via low-impact exercise and when one of them suggested roller blading. I was immediately intrigued by the idea because, after all, I already know how to skate. Hell, I used to be good at it.

So despite being keenly aware that skating is still not considered cool, I bought myself a pair of roller blades. (A joke going around the disc golf course: What's the hardest part about buying roller blades? Telling your dad you're gay.)

My local park has an asphalt jogging trail, but it's very hilly, so for my first outing, I decided to drive the extra distance to another park located in the Missouri River bottoms. It's nice and flat. I pulled into a parking spot and hopped out, eager to try out my shiny new skates with their blaze-orange asphalt wheels, but things immediately started to go haywire. It was like I had somehow fallen asleep and woke up in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.

I put the first skate on while standing in the open door of my truck, using the door sill to rest the skate on lace it up. No problem there, but on the second skate I realized I had already made a wrong decision. It was impossible to stand on the skate I already had on while putting the other one on, so I just turned around and hopped up into the seat to finish the job. Then I hopped back down.

And immediately busted my ass. My legs went under the door and I hit hard on my tailbone, compressing my spine painfully and popping my teeth together. It happened so fast, and caught me so completely by surprise that I felt the need to just sit there for a few seconds to regroup, but it was a nice day and the park was full of people, all of them seemingly watching the dumbass old guy fall out of his truck. So I bounced right back up onto my feet and did a little dance for them. I imagine I resembled a man fighting off a swarm of hornets, what with all the spinning around and waving of my arms.

Right away I realized two things. First, these are the slickest things I've ever had on my feet, beyond frictionless, it's like they are motorized. Even on level ground, it's completely impossible to stand still. Second, if I had gone to my local, hilly park I would already be hurt.

Undaunted, I set off down the trail, every muscle in my body working overtime just keeping me upright. At first, the skates wanted to go so much faster than I did that I was constantly in danger of falling backward. I remedied that situation by bending my legs a little and leaning forward, pushing off like an ice skater.

Of course that led to even more speed, but simply coasting to slow down was impossible. The path was very rough, and whenever I stopped moving my feet, the vibrations traveled right up my legs causing serious control problems. I was alternating between careening down the path way too fast for my skill level and coasting erratically, arms windmilling and body jerking around like I was having a seizure.

Within a quarter mile, I began having pains in muscles I've never even felt before. By a half mile, I was experiencing lower back spasms and cramps all around my ribcage. Luckily, the park provides the occasional bench in the grass beside the trail. I began using them like those runaway truck ramps you see in the mountains, hurtling off the asphalt, using the grass to slow down, and grabbing the bench to stop. And then lying on it for a minute or two till the pain susided.

After a mile or so, I was in agony and would have quit, but by then I was on the other side of the lake, a long way from my truck, so I stayed with it and eventually the pain in my body seemed to subside a little. Or perhaps it was just drowned out by the new and wicked burning sensations coming from the area of my shin bones. Or the damage being done to my feet by this brand new, very stiff pair of roller blades. One of the best feelings I have ever felt was when I got back to my truck and took those damn things off. But.

But I made it about three miles and I never fell again. And toward the end there, I think I awoke some of those old memories in these old muscles. Enough to make me want to try again when the snow melts.