At 47, Victoria Harrigan looks good. Her cheeks are taut from flying
down the bike path every day at dawn, when raw speed peels back the
sheaves of her years like wind stripping away chafe. Her long blond
mane of hair flows backwards and gives life to even longer legs in lycra
tights, which terminate into a dark pair of racy five-wheeled inline
speedskates.

"I've experienced real moments of joy on skates," Vicky says poetically.
Her voice chokes off as she searches for words to describe what skating
has done for her life. "I started skating as a way to keep my own health
and perspective during my husband John's long, drawn-out battle with
lung cancer." That's where the poetry ends, and yet at the same time,
where it just begins.

For a full year, the health industry misdiagnosed John's illness. When
Vicky learned the truth about her husband's condition, her heart sunk,
but she was also livid with rage at the oversight. Her only available
course of action was to hammer out her anger on the Ironhorse Trail in
Walnut Creek, CA. Day after day, Vicky vented like a volcano, keeping
her from blowing her top completely.

In the terminal phase of John's illness, Vicky still bathed and fed her
husband, but she hired a health care worker to give herself more time
alone to come to grips with the intense pressure of the situation. "When
my help arrived at 7:30 in the morning, I'd head out on the bike path
for a quick 15K," she said. As her husband's cancer dragged on, Vicky
sweated out lots of anger and sorrow. And she kept getting faster.

Just as Vicky procured her first 5-wheeled racing skates, friend Kelly
McCown told her about an upcoming skating workshop that was filling up
fast. "I was so worried there wouldn't be any space left that I got up
in the middle of the night and drove to the Post Office to mail my
deposit," Vicky recalls with a laugh.

The weekend workshop in a group setting was a defining moment for
Vicky's return to youthful exuberance. She credits Sacramento's
Christine Pavalovski with having pushed her to keep going all those
times when all she wanted to quit in frustration. "I wouldn't have ever
gotten as far as I have without all the friendship and encouragement I
received from everybody, " Vicky states proudly. "I shan't name any more
names but they all know who they are."

Without hesitation she continued, suddenly sure of the way out of the
dark which had nearly enveloped her. "Skating with all this newfound
structure gave me very precise techniques to practice on. This helped
free my mind of things and gave me relief from the overwhelming anxiety
I felt at losing a loved one."

When her husband drew his last breath, Vicky didn't have to turn to
drugs or alcohol to drown her grief. Because she already had skating and
an extended skate family to help fill in the void of his absence, Vicky
came through her ordeal in good shape, both physically and mentally. "I
have a friend who tells me that for years she's been looking for a legal
way to get high," Vicky says, barely containing the mirth brimming over
in her voice, "and I keep telling her 'I've found it! Skating!"