Ice Castles (aka Toe-Pick)

(Browsing through Ella's blog, I noticed that she has a blog of the same title pertaining to exactly the same event, thus the "aka")

'Twas a Wednesday morning. 'Twas also my scheduled leave, in anticipation of the really long weekend that was Holy Week (where I'm taking an early vacation leave beginning Holy Tuesday and ending Monday following Easter). But instead of delighting in an extended long playing stay in at Dreamland, I found myself literally dragging my poor self out of bed to go hit the shower and run to SM Megamall and make it to the damned mall's 10am opening.

No, I wasn't being a hard-core shopaholic. And please, not in MegaMall...of all places to shop. Blech.

About nine days ago, Boni met the entire Training group--both OD and Sales Training, that is--to announce that we will be having some form of bonding activity on Holy Wednesday. Halfway through my declaration that I would be on scheduled vacation leave--which he approved--beginning Monday 'til the following Monday, and his clarification of what was going to happen nine days later, I gagged (well, ok, a theatrical asphyxiation for that matter). The activity which he had in mind, which would supposedly make us closer to each other, was ice skating. Yes. Figure-fucking-skating ala Ice Castles, Holiday on Ice (aaah, those days in Araneta Coliseum back when I still fancied Mickey Mouse and friends...), The Cutting Edge, Nancy Kerrigan and Michelle Kwan.

"What on Earth??" <-- This wasn't me, but Ella. She beat me to the actual theatrics. My version in my head just as she was uttering those three words was so much more vulgar and nondescript at a certain extent. Why ice skating, of all things??? Well, according to Boni, it would be "fun" to do something that we all have not done before.
I was not about to acquiese. I asked him if he had any better ideas, hell, SAFER ideas. I did not plan on spending my long weekend in a plaster of paris cast replete with broken hips. And I made it an obvious point--in case he didn't see it--that perhaps, just perhaps, the sole reason why nobody has ever tried figure skating before was because nobody cared to break a bone in the cold!

Despite all the tantrums and boos and complaints, we still found ourselves waiting by the bleachers outside of the ice skating rink in Megamall that fateful Wednesday morning...mesmerizing on possibly the last few hours of having an unbroken skeletal system. We went inside soonest the last member of the team arrived. This was the first time I actually hated someone for not being late.

Minutes later, we were queueing to get in--none of us showing any signs of enthusiasm or urgency to actually go inside the rink and do a Kerrigan. After all, we prolly valued our well-being over camaraderie. ;)

After changing into sweat-worthy shirt (I knew deep down that I would be sweating like a warthog after I stepped in the rink...and I was right!) and getting my blue size 10 figure skating shoes, I half-heartedly followed the group into the seating area, so that the mentors may start coaching us how to go about our skating frolic. Apparently, saying "You HAVE to follow everything we tell you, otherwise, you may end up injured" was their idea of a great motivational speech to a bunch of first timers. Great Scott. Thank God I knew how to roller blade back in the US. This shouldn't be too hard after all.

We all went inside--Ella, Abby, Hazel, Maita, Joy, Boni, myself, Patrick and Noel. And when I say "went inside" I mean literally crawl to the skating rink by tightly gripping the steel railings along the side of the circular enclosure. And no, it was nothing like frickin' roller blades. 'Twas so slipperry, it was like roller blading on slime and goo. Geesh.

It took me (and, if I'm not mistaken, Abby, too) about five falls on my ass and a couple more stumbles on my knees to actually make me learn the basics of ice skating. And, oh, there were the bruises and the buckets and buckets of sweat that came out of every pore in my skin.

After about an hour, almost confidently and comfortably skating already, we called it a day...and an experience. We, then moved to Italianni's to achieve the highest level of satiety. After all, we deserved all the baked mussels, spaghetti, pizza and, hell, even beer after that really long hour of falling and regaining balance.

Made me realize that cliche about success--that it is measured not by the number of times you fall, but in how high you get to bounce back after each one. Well, I guess, judging from all the bruises on my now-starting-to-look-better ass and knee/shin, I may have been successful in conquering the ice!

OK. I did have fun. And right now, I am looking at that poster outside the skating rink recruiting new trainees for the Philippine Team of either figure skaters or ice hockey players. Kewl.

Yeah right. I am so NOT going back to the ice.