My black and blue saddlebags

Usually, I don’t like to push my weight around.

But at the ice skating rink, it’s a different story.

For the past six months, I’ve been zipping around on the ice defying all warnings, dire predictions and admonition from bystanders. Even so, their words finally came true.

This week, I fell on the ice during senior skate time — and the bruise on my right hip is the size of a blueberry pancake.

The flipside is that over the years I’ve stored many a yummy pancake or waffle in my saddlebags in anticipation of this very day. Given the choice, I’ll always take flapjacks laced with butter vs. a bowl of healthy oatmeal.

Despite the fact that my hips were fully prepared, I have to admit that I was not. The fall took me completely by surprise. One minute I was practicing a skating move, and the next moment I was airborne.

Like an airplane in distress, I made what is known in the aviation world as a “pancake landing.”

I don’t want to get all syrupy about this event, but I’m very thankful that I had a bit of padding. For months, I’ve been fretting that I’m at my pregnancy weight — with no baby to birth. Yet in the end, it may be what saved me from more than just a bruise — that and a prayer I say each time I lace my skates.

The fall definitely hurt, but one tumble shouldn’t be a reason to give up on spins or three-turns. Exercise on the rink helps replace my cellulite with muscle. Unfortunately, muscle weighs more than fat, so stepping onto the scale can be discouraging.

Falling flat can be, too.

I’ll bet there’s more than one person reading this who has “fallen flat” this week and is a bit disheartened. If this shoe fits like my ice skates do, I hope you’ll lace ‘em up, say a prayer and try again.

That’s what I plan to do.

Today I’m going to step onto the ice and push my weight around — even though I’m a bit blue.