It’s incredibly nice outside, even if it is 7:30 pm. I step outside, and the warm air hugs me like my warmest, fuzziest winter sweater. I want to go down town and hang out with some of my friends, but at the same time I have to practice. The warm air is making me regret I decided not to wear shorts and change when I get there. My long pants and jacket are killing me in this warm air. My mom finally gets into the car and drive me to wear I want to be. I step inside the building, and I know that I’ve made the right choice. If I didn’t decide to pursue this sport, I could be hanging out in DTSS with my friends. I lace up my boot and step onto the ice, and as soon as I do I feel like I’m at my second home. I love the feel of the ice under my blade, and the cold air hitting my cheeks. I like the motion of my legs pushing my crossovers so I can get around the rink. Three-turn and I’m doing backward crossovers. I love the feeling of being able to push off of my toe pick, spinning in the air, and landing clean. I might have just began skating a year and a half ago, I’ve caught up to some girls that have been skating for 5,6 years! When I see people who are better than me, it motivates me to practice even harder. I know that I’m a late skater, but if I put enough effort into it I won’t be for long. All I know is that I’ll be at the rink every Friday, unless something else comes up, and I’ll skate my heart out. I’ll do that until I can’t anymore, which, I hope, will be a long, long time from now.