Speed

Not amphetamine, in case you wonder. I mean just speed, fast motion where the world around you appears and disappears in blurred patches of sun and shade, and you are the center of it, you move and the world moves with you. It is fantastic.

It isn´t about tango, either, and I think it fair to warn those who come here to read about tango to skip this post. My tango life has been quite dreary, lately. Basically, I go to the milonga to eat, chat with friends, and listen to the music. At this point, not dancing is decidedly less frustrating than dancing. Exceptionally, it is not about me. Maybe I should start writing another, non-tango blog, to keep this one coherent.

In the meantime..

I went roller-skating today.
I know this may sound banal, but I am probably the least athletic person you can imagine. In my adult life, anyway. I hate sport for the sake of sport, for the sake of moving, for the sake of - God forbid! - burning calories (ok, I was born with the genetic predisposition to be slim, it runs in the family - the older, the thinner; I´ve always imagined myself, in some forty or fifty years, as one of those tiny, frail and almost transparent old ladies - you know the kind, that look like a gush of wind might carry them away - and I am quite looking forward to it; hence my laziness, probably). I could never ´go to the gym´. The mere thought of the machines and the sweating people makes me nauseous. On the other hand, I love swimming, sailing, skiing, skating, yoga, contemporary dance - as long as it is not perceived as a sport, but an entertaining activity. I like bicycles, but for me they are a means of transport (city transport, preferably). Those people capable of spending their holidays on mountain bikes, cycling forty of fifty kilometers every day, simply puzzle me. Why???
Another reason may have its origin in my childhood. I had an active mother who signed me for classes of practically any activity I had shown any talent in. Unfortunately I was reasonably talented in many spheres, and so I spent my afternoons in all kinds of sport and artistic activities (which I all liked, to be fair). By the time I was fourteen, I´d had enough. All I wanted to do was hang out on the street, like my best friend, who was from a single-parent family and never did anything else. She was also allowed to wear make-up and hot pants that made her the dream of any pedophile. Her mother was very young - practically my age now - and too busy with her own messy love life to mind her teenage daughter, which I then thought was cool (now I feel sorry for her - I find my life complicated enough as it is, without a teenage daughter. The mere thought makes me shiver.)
But how on earth have I got here?

I was saying, I went roller-skating. I prefer ice-skating, actually, because one can develop greater speed, which I assume must be due to lesser friction (hear the amateur physicist!). And for some reason, speed has an almost theraupeutic effect on me. I sometimes go ice-skating after work, during the winter season. Like tango, fast motion makes me forget everything, get rid of any accumulated tension, and joyfully concentrate on the now and here.
I don´t know why.
Is that why people drive fast cars?
There is a large park near my home with large patches of lawn, grown trees, shrubberies, lakes, a fountain, and even a tiny neo-gothic manor house. And a cycling/skating trail. So far, I have only made use of the park to fling myself on the grass with a book, or sit on an old tree and drink mate, or to picnic. But I think I´ll join the rangs of the roller-skaters, every now and then. The thing is, I love skating and listening to Kevin Johansen;) it´s exactly that kind of music..

I will soon be changing my geographical coordinates, so there´s a slight hope for some better tango. Or not.
I am just somewhat tango-depressed.
Why else would I go roller-skating?