Last week, A had an opportunity to perform in New York City. It was a unique experience, and he had a blast. I, however, was left to my own devices for several hours. It was one of those situations where I didn’t really have enough time to navigate to another part of the city, and it was a little too early for most attractions to be open yet. So, I decided to just walk around the area, grab a good cup of coffee, and find a spot to people watch.

A expressed some concern about me heading off by myself. “Don’t get kidnapped, Mom,” he said. “Don’t worry, there isn’t much of a market for chubby middle-aged women,” I reassured him. “Yeah, but you do have functioning kidneys, so please be careful,” he responded. Glad to hear that he’s up to date on all the urban legends.

It wasn’t freezing, but since the sun wasn’t fully up yet, it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. I decided it was best to just keep moving and after a few minutes I found myself next to Bryant Park. I spotted a coffee kiosk and thought I would take a few minutes to warm up and watch people walking their dogs. I didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry for the poodle mix that was gingerly making her way through the park wearing “sneakers” that matched her owner’s.

I turned my attention to the ice rink, which was surprisingly empty. Although, when I thought about it, who gets up at the crack of dawn to ice skate, other than Olympians? I was a little disappointed, as there wasn’t much other activity in the park. Pretty soon, though a few people wandered out onto the ice. They were clearly doing warmup exercises, and I thought things would get interesting shortly. Then I realized that they were all wearing staff jackets and after loosening up a bit, they settled in to wait for the crowd.

That’s when the part of my brain that likes to think it’s a free spirit started making noise. “They’re open. There’s no one else around. You used to ice skate. This could be fun!” The logical part of my brain quickly chimed in. “You’re old. Remember the knee injury last year? You haven’t skated since the kids were little. If you fall and break a hip here, you’re not going to get to see A’s performance.”

Skate rentals were about $20. I would probably spend more on coffee and snacks just to sit somewhere to stay warm. If I rented skates, I would not only stay warm, but I would also burn off the calories instead of ingesting them. Since the rink was empty, I could hold on to the railing and surely I could manage not to break a hip. I just wouldn’t skate fast. Although, of course, it would be mightily embarrassing to have to ask the rink staff to help my chubby, middle-aged-self up off the ice. Nope. I talked myself out of it. The thought of humiliation was too much too bear.

A few more minutes passed, and still the rink remained virtually empty. I was in the middle of NYC, completely anonymous. Even if I did fall flat on my face, it wouldn’t matter 10 minutes later when I disappeared into the crowd. I decided to go for it. If everything went well, it would be worth it. If it didn’t, I would be out $20 and my dignity.

Skating is not like riding a bike. I had taken an ice-skating class in college, and I had learned a little more than the basics. Growing up, we spent a lot of time skating on local ponds in the wintertime. I’d done enough of it over the years to think I’d have some muscle memory. The problem was that I hadn’t used those muscles in a long time. So, even though they sort of remembered what to do, they weren’t in the best condition to do it.

I wobbled shakily around the rink two times, grabbing onto the railing every few feet to steady myself. Pretty soon my legs were on fire and I was wondering how I was going to walk back to the studio to pick A up later. Since I hadn’t fallen yet, I decided that it was time to cut my losses and I exited the ice. Of course, I did this on the opposite side of the rink from where the shoe pick up was. Disgusted with myself, I sat down on the benches for a few minutes, trying to decide if it was worth wet socks to take my skates off and walk around the rink. Once I got the feeling back in my toes, I decided I’d risk one more half lap around the rink and be done.

The most amazing thing happened. After that little rest, it all suddenly did come back to me. That half lap turned into about 15 more laps. I certainly was no Nancy Kerrigan, but I gradually felt confident enough to pick up some speed and to be able to navigate around the other skaters that were finally showing up. Before I knew it, it was well past time to head back to pick up A.

I got back to pick him up, kidneys intact, but knees and ankles a little worse for wear. While his performance later in the day was the most exciting part of the trip by far, my own little adventure on the rink made for a nice memory, too.

Liz Pinkey’s column appears weekly in the Times News