I was never a brilliant skater, but I liked it and held a romantic notion about gliding along arm in arm with a loved one. Sadly since the OH is firmly of the "can't skate/won't skate" mind, I had to make do with going with female friends. Over-enthusiastic about the idea, we ended up booking two outings, one a freebie in Canary Wharf, another at Somerset House.
The first trip did not get off to the best of starts. My balance was noticeably absent for the first ten minutes and as I lurched (not glided) from railing to railing, I wondered how I would survive a whole hour of it, let alone another evening of it. Thankfully, I did improve - not to any great standard, but enough to go around unaided at my own leisurely pace. And so long as I wasn't in danger of being skated into by the show-offs (one in particular was fast without actually being in control and took down a group of children in one fall), I did enjoy it.
But what I wasn't prepared for was how tiring it is. I remember the balance issues, my lack of pace and wariness of other teenage skaters, but I don't remember it being so exhausting. I had to stop every ten minutes for a breather. Proof once again that all the swimming I do doesn't seem to translate into any other type of fitness.