I stared at the ceiling fan without blinking.  I couldn't sleep anymore.  It was shortly after 2 pm, my laziness was getting to me.  I wanted to do something, but I couldn't think of what.  My mind ran through all the activities I had been doing the past few months and none of them appealed to me.  The aerobics workout in front of the television, the weight lifting at the gym, the bicycling, walking, using the machines at the YMCA.  None of that excited me anymore.  I  thought I would love to go in-line skating, but remembered my bad experience at the rink.  I couldn't face skating with ten million seven year olds again.  It was scarier than venturing at the beach path by myself.
 I threw myself out of bed and decided just at that second I would try skating on our driveway.  My decision to take in-line skating just a few weeks back had increased to the point of being ready to go on the pavement.  I was scared of doing it on the streets still, but our driveway was safe.  I could hang onto the gate when I got to the street end of the driveway and onto my car when I returned to the garage.  The thick carpet in our living room was no longer a challenge, neither was the low carpet at the rink, and the actual rink itself, well, I didn't want to compete with children anymore.  The prior three weeks had been productive in my learning experience, but I was yet to skate comfortably.    I knew that if I fell on the pavement, it would hurt a lot more than when I fell at the rink or even on the carpet,  not to mention the embarrassment of not being able to get back up.
 On my way outside another idea hit me.  I would go to an isolated bike trail where I could hang onto a fence.  There was one near Griffith Park along the freeway.  The chain link fence could provide support.  Then it dawn on me quickly, Hoover Dam was closer to me.  The trail was short enough for walking, at this time of the afternoon no one would be there.  I could have it all to myself.  I got excited at the prospect of skating on pavement for the first time since I decided to learn in-line skating.  I was ready for it, I had nothing to fear.
 One hour later, in the heat of the afternoon, I was opening the trunk and dressing myself with all the necessary gear.  Helmet, knee pads, elbow pads and wrist guards.  I had my cold water bottle in my insulated bag, and my small backpack contained my cell phone, earphones, cassette player, and keys.  I looked like an alien from outer space ready to land on top of the golf course below the dam.  I had everything except a lot of confidence.  I told myself out loud that would come with time and practice, practice, practice...
 I sat on the ground near the trail to put my skates on.  I wanted flat ground where I wouldn't fall, and my car was parked on an incline.  I  imagined myself sliding down the incline, out of control into heavy traffic, screaming and pleading for someone to stop me.  The picture scared me and made me laugh at the same time.  Sometimes my mind played some ridiculous pictures in my head. 
I got up slowly keeping my balance.  I knew this would be different than at the rink.  There was no carpet to break my fall, there were no benches or rails for me to hang onto.  I was on my own.   I felt every pebble on the bottom of my feet, and my watchful eyes caught every ripple in the cement.  All of a sudden, those imperfections on the pavement became huge boulders that I needed to conquer.  My keen eye kept a vigil over breaks in the cement that would make me fall.
 I looked like a child learning to walk.  All the insecurities and fears surfaced and it took aloud talking to myself to get me going.  When my hair fell on my face and the comb I was wearing fell on the ground I thought the ultimate challenge was to pick it up.  I decided against it. I had a fear of falling and not being able to get up again.  The comb was insignificant at this point.
Just when I got some courage,  a man approached me and asked me if I was just learning to skate.  I laughed out loud thinking that it couldn't take a very observant person to notice that.  My feet were wobbly, my arms were extended to keep my balance, sweat poured from my forehead and I had only skated five feet, better yet, I had only wobbled five feet.  I wanted to return to the car and give up, but I thought all the effort I put into getting into my gear deserved more than five feet of skating.
The man seemed to be worried about me.  He said I should get some pointers from someone who knew, and that he was sorry he didn't.  He picked up my comb and I was thankful.  I decided to just take off to see what happened.  The hot wind hit my face.  I realized the temperature would hit 95 degrees today and at this time of the day it was probably already there or even higher.  I didn't care, I was bent on making it to the bridge and back and I would do it, no matter how many tries it would take me.
 One hundred feet into my endeavor I was talking to myself out loud again.  I repeated over and over to relax, not be afraid, take it easy, I could do it, I could do it, I could do it.  The pavement felt gritty, my skates didn't slide as smooth as they did in the rink.  I was a bit thankful for that, if it was as smooth I would take off at unmanageable speed.  This way, the gritty pavement slowed me down.  I began to push harder as I got more comfortable and I began to feel the sweat building on my body.  I knew I was burning calories galore and that thought pleased me.  Well, it was a good thing to do after all.  I felt my muscles contract and relax as I pushed and rode.