Fog in dawn-dark. Flecks of water like suspended rain.
The scene suited my return to the skatepark after five full days away. With my mental health back on track, it was my body that sludged through the eerie, closed in darkness.
Still, there was a freshness to the skate this morning. I slapped my favorite bank a few times without needing to work through repetitions to get there. Also found a flow a few times pumping around the park: there was a smooth sense to the ride despite my cricked neck and diminished sea legs.
The freshness wasn’t all positive, though. My nose stall to fakie, which I see as a foundational move for riding switch, especially in the bowl—it just wasn’t happening. Found nerves hanging on the lip of the bank and, by then, started to feel the fatigue of starting up after days of crappy food and attitude.
Looking forward to tomorrow or, really, a few days down the line when I’m back to the confidence level I left behind last Friday.
Average Skater 