Narrative Essay On Ice Skating

Finally, November first arrived. Since my birthday, when I received my ice-skates in the mail, I had counted down the days until this moment. Listening to instrumental music, I had envisioned myself spinning and gliding across the ice, as gracefully as a swan on a lake. In my head, I could skate both elegantly and effortlessly. Heart racing, I fastened my skates and stepped onto the rink. Within the first five minutes, I slipped and fell. Falling hurts. However, stumbles, falls and head long plummets riddle life, and the recovery rather than the fall strengthens and defines people. Through my experience ice-skating, I learned an invaluable lesson: how to fall with grace and how to recover.
I loved to ice-skate, but I never considered figure-skating seriously until one particular day, when an elderly gentleman came to the rink. When he first entered, I paid no particular attention, but when he stepped onto the ice my view of skating changed entirely. This wonderful gentleman inspired me. He slid across the ice, gracefully gliding one foot in front of the other. Lifting one leg, he effortlessly swung himself into a dizzying spin. As I observed, he leapt from the ice, spun twice in mid-air and landed smoothly. Thanks to the modern…

Often I fell, but he always helped me up. “Very close,” he would say, “try it again.” By the end of the ice-skating season, I understood the basics. I could jump a little, spin a little, and go backwards without tripping over myself. Sadly, since the rink closed my training sessions with the gentleman had to end. “Get yourself a real pair of skates, and practice at home on your roller blades,” he told me on our last day together. Dutifully, I did as he recommended and hoped wholeheartedly throughout spring, summer, and fall, that he would return again next…