Why sitting in class is boring when you are 14
Bruno Rinvolucri ( at age 14 )
[Editorial note: you may find this text useful as reading material]
It was a Sunday afternoon. A day that we knew we could skate without that hassle of a tiresome and frustrating security guard. Me and some a little apprehensive friends made our way down to the Co-op supermarket ,where I knew I would have to confront my fear and risk painful injury. In exchange for what can only be described as the beautiful feeling which immerses your body after effortlessly rolling away from a trick you have never had the luck or skill to get under your belt and say proudly, "Yeah, I've done that."
"Go on Bru ,do it!" My friends said as we stood at the bottom of jagged, narrow set of 7 stairs that looked down on us in an almost arrogant manner.
I looked up at the seven cliff-like steps as they invited me to gracefully float down them, touch down all four wheels on the smooth, fresh, new tiles. And roll. Roll forwards into the cheers and shouts of my fellow skateboarders. Hear the shouts, clapping and banging of decks on the echoing floor.
"YYEEEAAAHH!", they would say, "He did'um". And I would turn to the seven, glistening edges of each step becoming smaller and smaller as I rolled away into the distance. I would have done them. I would have done the seven.
This was unfortunately not the reality. The reality was that I was standing at the bottom staring up at them with my skateboard in my hand imagining doing one of the million things that are possible to do wrong and being viciously thrown off my comforting board and hammered into the cold, hard ground as the pain flooded into my body.
But no. I must not let this happen. I will not let this happen. I will do them. And with that I marched up the steps each one becoming more jagged and sharp as I stepped over it. At the top I stepped onto my skateboard, gave it a few hopeful pushes, and with that I was at the beginning of the run-up.
I stepped off my board and walked down the three steps behind me and onto the ground below. I looked forwards. All I could see was the tunnel-like one and a half metre wide run-up with what looked like a sheer drop at the end, but was actually seven concrete and in my mind huge steps.
I ran forwards and jumped onto my skateboard clearing the three small steps in my way. As soon as my feet touched the rough black surface of the top of my board I knew I had to gain speed. I had one foot on my board as I frantically pushed, my legs working like pistons hammering the ground below me in the hope of gaining speed.
After a few pushes I was almost there. I placed my foot back on the board and swiftly got my feet into the right position. I was there; my feet were in the right position; I was going fast enough. I reached the edge of the top step. As I pushed down with my back foot I heard the crisp and welcoming pop of the crisp maple tail on concrete. I dragged my front foot up the rough surface of my board and I was airborne. The adrenaline rushed around my body. This lasted a second which to me seemed like minutes as I hovered, suspended in mid-air above my seven jagged enemies, laughing at the laws of gravity. Then I was down. I hit the ground hard, my knees absorbing most of the shock and my arms balancing out my crouched, flailing body. As I rolled away an amazing feeling of unrivalled happiness flooded my brain.At that moment I was totally at piece. I realised how stupid all the petty arguments which I have with my parents are.All that mattered to me was that I had conquered them,they were mine.I had done them.
When I looked back on it I was glad I had been able to overcome my feeling of fear. I had proved to myself that it really is mind over matter.