Understand, I have not been on skates in years. Since I was last on skates, I have had a child, gained and lost and gained weight in way too short a time, gotten loaded down with medicines that sometimes screw with my balance, and gotten fibro.
So considering all that?
* I did pretty well. My preteen speed-skating champ self would've been appalled, but she was also a ballerina in serious training, and I am happier now.
* I only fell once, and it was because feste_sylvain and tamidon's daughter fell down and I was the closest adult. I whipped around in the circle-deceleration move that works great if you have any kind of proprioception. Body said "I remember this!" and then "I forgot my current condition!" in rapid succession.*rueful grin* But! I only fell once!
* With fibro, you get to know which muscle is connected to which muscle, because you can feel all of them, and feel them interacting, and it would be fascinating if it was not a matter of watching them throw red flags in perfect sequence.
Did the fibro act up? Hell yeah. Every time I stopped skating,it's because the fibro was acting up. Ankles wouldn't lift, or muscles were violently shaking, et cetera. I stopped, and I waited for my body to shake it off as much as it could, and I got back out there. Will I be in pain tomorrow? Yeah.
Will I regret it? No.
It took me a while to reorient myself. My muscle memory and my muscles in their current state had a few lively discussions before they figured stuff out. I had moments of klutziness - is okay, so did most everyone else.
But dear reader, I flew. Sometimes? I flew. For the first time in ages, I moved with something that occasionally resembled grace; I felt at home, and wondered that I'd ever forgotten.