There is no better feeling than Ice skating.
From the minute I step into the building I can feel the rubber flooring and I am instantly transported to a different mindset. Nothing else in the world matters.
I sit down on the old, splintery, wooden bench and take my shoes off. I pull my ice skates out of the bag and run the top of my fingernail along the steel of the blade and watch as shreds of it come off each time I nick it. My skates are sharp.
I insert my feet into the boots and with every tug of the laces, my skates pull tighter around my feet –- and I am a few seconds closer to getting onto the ice.
My skates are hugging my feet. I stand up and I am 3 inches taller than I was before. I feel powerful with my skates on. I walk a few steps up near the entrance of the rink and then I burst into a little run right on to the ice.
It’s cold. My skin is full of goosebumps, but all that matters is being here, in the moment. I start with a couple strides, feeling out the ice: It's not soft, but firm. I trust the ice. I skate backwards and allow for a couple of crossovers. I turn myself back and slam on the brakes with a hockey stop. I love watching the snow shower on the siding of the rink. But my favorite part is about to happen. I graciously weave in and out with my skates. There is emotion and passion in my movements. I am aggressive as I gain speed and ferociously cut through the ice. But I am graceful as I glide and focus on my footwork.
I’m flying and nothing can pull me away from this moment.
I’m Michael Mollsen and that’s my perspective.