Skateboarding is in my blood. Years have passed since I stepped on a board with serious intentions, but I think about it every day. My brother introduced me to skating in the early ‘90s, before it was popularized as an “extreme” sport. Before skate parks when the best spot we could find was a ramshackle foundation littered with broken glass. It was a magnetic, thrilling counterculture that influenced everything from my taste in clothes and music to my friendships.
Look at that frontside flip—my brother’s skating style was so smooth, so effortlessly skilled. Me? I had zero natural ability but still developed a decent arsenal. Every trick I landed was preceded by repetition and pain. That type of dedication changes you internally. To this day, I can’t walk down stairs without feeling the itch to hurl myself down them on a board. But I am many, many years removed from my prime.
Recently, I’ve found myself reflecting on the good ol’ days. Like a retired boxer who probably shouldn’t get back in the ring, I can no longer ignore the call. What do I still have left in the tank? Now, at 38, my journey into skateboarding begins anew.
Week 1 – Back on the Board
My wife is an avid roller skater (and former LA Derby Doll). Over the weekend, we decided to skate together on the Cape Cod Rail Trail. The smooth, safe stretch of pavement offered the perfect opportunity to get a little exercise and see how my legs felt on the board again. Side note—a few days prior, I had the genius idea to try some flat ground tricks near my house. Literally as soon as I put my foot on the board, my wheels hit a pebble and locked up. Strange how nostalgia doesn’t preserve how much it hurts to fall. My palm got chewed up in the exact way it would when I was a teenager. Not the most auspicious beginning.
Skating the Rail Trail felt great. My balance was mostly there as I pushed and cruised along at a decent clip, carving to test the tightness of my trucks. I pulled off some manuals between the shadows, maybe stretches of ten feet at a time. Not too bad. What about tricks, like a basic ollie?
Hoo boy. My mind knows exactly what I need to do, but my body isn’t there yet. Muscle memory has completely atrophied. My front leg felt like dead weight and stubbornly refused my commands. When I bent down to snap the tail and jump up, the fear got me.
The worst thing you can do in skating is to not commit. If you bail or half-ass a trick attempt, you’ll always get hurt worse. As it stands, I’m not mentally or physically used to jumping and landing back on the board. Perhaps ollies were too ambitious for my first outing.
But I had a solution: the nollie shuvit. It used to be one of my go-to flatground tricks. Sometimes I’d even try for a bigspin or revert at the end. With a nollie shuvit, momentum was in my favor. All I had to do was give a little flick at the nose with the tiniest jump, and the board would do the rest. After a few sketchy tries, I landed one. I threw in some other exercises, like placing my feet over the trucks and jumping in the air while the board remained on the ground. Little by little, my confidence built.
We skated for a few miles until my legs were too stiff. Honestly, I’m pleased with my progress. There was certainly some awkwardness, but I’m back on the board. Perhaps by my next post, I’ll be brave enough to resurrect my ollie and put up some actual pictures/videos. Until then…
love this. so many memories
Great piece! More!
Like so many my age, the siren’s call of skateboarding was issued by Back to the Future! When my friends and I saw what Marty McFly could do on that baby, we all had to have one!
At that time, skateboarding was mostly associated with Southern California culture; it wasn’t a “thing” in the Bronx. (We were too busy innovating hip-hop!) But my pals and I soon discovered that the skateboard was almost the perfect way to travel in a heavily urbanized environment, because you could switch to and from the sidewalk/street as needed, and the board was portable: It could be carried inside pizzerias and schools and what have you (this was a big deal when bicycles chained outside stores were often stolen by the time you came out three minutes later). For us, it was a mode of transportation; none of us ever got proficient at performing tricks — the images in Thrasher magazine were as fantastical and otherworldly as those in Dragon — but it’s hard to envision my childhood without my skateboard.
Great piece, Jeff! Looking forward to more four-wheeled adventures!
I grew up in a small town, so I never had that freedom of cruising through the city on a board. My older brother and his friends would take trips to NYC and Philly, but I was too anxious of a kid for that sort of adventure. I mostly skated at an abandoned foundation before we got an area behind the teen center to set up some ramps etc. The local skate shop also had some ramps etc in its front parking lot, so I’d hit that up, too. At my height, it was a very personal experience. My senior year in high school I didn’t have a final period class, so I’d duck out early and skate, having the whole place to myself.
Skateboarding and music go hand-in-hand, huh? We’d watch the 411 Video Magazine VHS tapes, and the skaters had amazing (and I’m sure unlicensed) music in their parts: Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Wu-Tang, etc.