March 11, 2020:

Bicycle was easy. On the sidewalk with training wheels it was only a few minutes before they were unnecessary. No doubt to the consternation of protective parental unit I removed them and was in the street that first day.

Swimming was easy. A lap around the pool with one hand on the gunite experiencing my buoyancy, a few minutes in the shallow end where I could stand if necessary, then right out into it. Easy-peasy.

Sk8ting is impossible. I've never been able to suss the balance point which allows you to mount the board without it flying from under. No amount of YouTube has sorted it for me.

I never could master roller skates, either. Nor ice skates. Balancing on things sliding from underfoot has never worked out for me.

I tried. As a small child I spent days lapping the large planter outside our apartment, left hand on its brick facade maintaining balance. If I remember accurately I was largely pulling myself along with that hand. Letting go, I'd be on the concrete immediately.

It was running, though, I always truly loved. Two miles around the track and I felt like God. All that warm endorphin cascading through the brain. Dopamine: always my drug of choice.