Skateboard on a Ramp

“I stood at the top of the smallest ramp and Bobby at the bottom, ever the supportive co-rider. He offered his hands to me and I said I was just going to do it and not overthink it. My problem was always overthinking. [...] The board went down, I stood on it, front foot, then back foot, then it rolled and, without really thinking about it, I pushed my body weight forward and I rolled slowly down the tiniest ramp in all of skate land like an absolute pro. [...] I hopped on my board, leaned forward and pushed downwards ever so slightly, so I felt more balanced, and I cruised to the bottom, hitting the main area at speed, avoiding the mini ramp and jumping off. Bobby whooped. I whooped. The teenagers cringed, probably.”

“I took the ramp three or four more times, each one more fluid, more confident than the previous, and I started to get cocky. [...] I saw the mini-ramp approaching fast, the first one I had attempted, and as my momentum built, I thought: “Sure, I’ll do a two-er rather than swerving away.” I hit it, unevenly, and as the board rumbled, I attempted to step off. I misjudged my dismount and fell, hitting the hard, smooth, cold chrome concrete, three times, once with my head, once with my hip and once with my tailbone. Bang bang bang. I rolled on to my side to try to breathe. And all I could do was laugh. The pain throughout my entire body was a reminder that I was alive. I was present and I was happy.”