I was standing on top of a wooden platform four feet off the ground. My right foot was turned perpendicular to my left. Under my right foot was the tail of the skateboard. The rest of the board dangled precariously over the curved transition of the ramp.
I stared down the four foot curved section. It seemed like 40 feet. I was contemplating one of the two most basic maneuvers in skateboarding — dropping in a ramp. The other, if you’re keeping score at home, is the ollie, which is the ability to get airborne on flat ground. The foundation of skateboarding is built upon these two tricks.
Why, you may, ask was I, at 51 years, old standing atop a skateboard ramp? Another pertinent question is why, at 51 years old, do I have a skateboard ramp in my yard?
At one time or another, everyone of a certain age stares Father Time in the face. We know we’re going to lose yet we fight as long and hard as we can. I reached that age 18 months ago. I do not feel like I am over 50 years old. I think if you ask my family, they’ll tell you that I certainly don’t act like I’m 50 years old, for better or for worse.
One of the things that I attempt to do is to learn from those around me, to pay attention, to observe, and to learn. I have noticed that the first step in allowing the perils of age to gain a stranglehold on your life is to disengage — disengage from your friends, disengage from the activities you enjoy, disengage from your passions.
As we get older, it can become more difficult to engage in such activities. Our bodies won’t allow us to run, to jump, to sprint, to change directions the way we used to. We have to come to the realization, no matter how difficult or painful it may be, that we cannot compete at the same level that we used to.
However, that doesn’t mean that we have to quit. I remember that embattled cyclist Lance Armstrong wrote in his biography that even in his darkest days of cancer treatments, he never quit riding his bike. He wrote that if he just kept pedaling, he always felt like he would survive. Once he quit pedaling, he wrote, he was afraid he would die.
Lance Armstrong has left a checkered legacy. The once almost mythical figure with the world at his feet has an experienced a fall from grace like few others. However, Armstrong’s words ring true: As long as you keep pedaling, you’ll survive.
I know that things are not going to get any easier. I know that as the years continue to pile on, my body will fail me more and more. It does not, however, mean that I have to accept it.
And I won’t. I know in the end, I will lose. We all do but it’s a fate that I refuse to accept.
As I stared down that skateboard ramp, all of those things were running through my mind. I had butterflies in my stomach. My palms were a little clammy. It seemed like I had a 100 pound weight tied to my left foot. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get it to break free from the wooden platform.
Finally, I took a deep breath. I lifted my foot and placed it over the front wheels of the skateboard. In one swift motion, I shifted my weight forward and down. The front wheels make contact with the plywood surface and I rode into the driveway. I turned 180 degrees and stopped. I looked back at the ramp and smiled.
One more day. We’re going to make it at least one more day.