My Eyes Doth Deceive Me

I am always amazed at how I become a different person and *skater* after each session. My buddy calls it "time on the board." And like anything you practice, you're only going to get better with time.

On this particular night, we are skating back from one of our favorite school parking lots. The parking lot is good ground. The rest of the route is not. It's ridden with sidewalk cracks, uneven earth, valley faultlines, and tarred up crevasse. I like that last word.

As I skate, and try to gain speed, I realize that I am always stopped by the cracks! I mean, as soon as I see one coming, I just jump off the board prematurely, or start slowing down, knowing that if I don't, I'll be jolted off the board. It becomes super-annoying, and disrupts my flow.

Then, my skate buddy tries to push me over a crack as I approach it with speed. I get chickeny. "NO! I WON'T MAKE IT!" And of course, I don't.

But then, I think, "What if I don't know the cracks are coming? What if I close my eyes, or better yet, what if I see the cracks, and ignore what I *think* they're going to do to me, like force me off! What if I pretend they are just even ground...that I'm riding even ground all the way?"

I try it.

HOLY F'IN SMOKE! You won't believe the difference that made! Suddenly, with this new idea of what the cracks might or might not be, I just glide over them, like they're not even there!
In those moments, I am lightning speed, unstoppable, and victorious. And I am reminded of that quote that someone said..."When all you see is the goal, there are no obstacles."

The eyes suddenly become a liability to me during this aspect of skating. I have to skateboard as if the path in front of me is not the one I think it is, or want to avoid. But one that I can make up. Just. Like. That.

Damn that's deep!