When it comes to balance, strength, and coordination on in-line skates, I have a good side -- and a less good side. Whether it be gliding, pushing off, or crossing over, one of my legs just always seems to do it better than the other. And the more tired I get, the more pronounced this difference becomes.

This has long been a source of frustration for me, this bum leg of mine. If my balance isn't just so, the muscles in my leg fight against each other, as it were. They work overtime by trying to make the necessary corrections, which just leads to more fatigue and an abrupt decline in speed.

How to skate fast without this deteriorating performance? For a long time I thought that the best skaters were jealously guarding some secret about their equipment or their technique. When I finally looked to myself for insight into my problem, my weak side glared back at me. I resolved to do something about it.

One day, while doing some basic drills for the umpteenth time, I found it. I knew I had found it because the positive feedback I was getting from my body was unmistakable. The secret to skating was symmetry. It meant bringing the less good leg up to par with the good one. I may never be able to completely eliminate the discrepancy between my good leg and my bad leg, but at least by doing drills I'm constantly narrowing the gap so it never becomes a permanent impediment. Doing drills is the best form of damage control that there is. That way I can get on with the business of going fast.

The answer had eluded me for so long because I had been looking for it in the wrong place. As bitter a pill as it may be to swallow, going back to the basics is paramount to success. Just as every musician stands by those pesky scales and arpeggios, so do I swear by my drills. Only I don't call it doing drills. I call it fiddling with my balance. Here are a few ways I fiddle with my balance that have helped me become a top competitive skater.

1) Tightrope skating. Before I start rolling in earnest, I seek out a line on the pavement or on grass and imagine that this line is a tightrope strung a thousand feet up in the air. I get into a crouch position with one leg bent at the knee to 90 degrees and the other leg extended straight, heels out and toes in. Like a pilot getting ready to fly, I make all the preliminary ground checks. Are my knees and toes lined up over the line? Is my back rounded and are my shoulders relaxed? Am I looking straight ahead and not down? Is my weight back on the weight-bearing leg? If everything checks out, I should be able to lift up my extended leg off the ground. I can dangle my leg and balance on the tightrope for a spell. Then, with my extended leg still off the ground, I circle it around and place it on the tightrope next to my other foot, and transfer my weight onto the new leg, pushing the other one out into the thin air. I repeat this procedure a bunch of times. For an extra challenge, I do this exercise with my in-lines on. I start on the grass before graduating to a level piece of asphalt.

2) Jackhammer landing.While rolling forward slowly, I plant one skate down hard onto the pavement. Doing this in slow, rhythmic succession, I keep time by saying "tock" out loud every time one skate or the other hits the ground. I do this assertively, especially with my leg that has poorer balance, as if it knows where it wants to go. From the hips down, I imagine that I'm a me'ronome going back and forth -- tock, tock, tock. My hips are the weight that swings back and forth, while my skates are the hinge point. They stay centered underneath my body. At all times, only one skate is in contact with the ground: just as the landing skate's wheels hit the ground emphatically, the other skate is being lifted off the ground. It's important that I stomp straight on top of my wheels, not on the inside or the outside edge. If I don't do this correctly I end up rushing to put the other skate down because I'm off balance. Like with tightrope skating, my nose, knees and toes have to be in alignment for this exercise to work.

3) Landing launch. One of the best ways to remember to keep my weight back, which is crucial to attaining high speed and stability, is to throw my landing skate as far forward as possible. That way, my body is sitting deeper and my weight is hanging behind my skates, assuring that I'll get the most out of my glide. I don't want to throw my skate so far forward that my leg is straight, so I concentrate more on driving my knee forward than anything else. This is something I force myself to think about while I'm going at higher speeds as well, especially when I'm getting tired and my technique starts faltering. I think "forward" every time I throw my knee and skate towards the front. Thinking "forward" for both sides gets too confusing, so I just pick one side to think about. The other side follows naturally.

3) Exploit the glide. I frequently glide on one skate while holding the other leg trailing behind. My trailing leg almost fits into my gliding leg like a puzzle piece. It's important that my trailing leg is completely relaxed with my skate hanging downwards. That way it can be recovering for the next glide and push. While gliding on my good leg, I can lean backwards and forwards and alternately feel myself accelerating and braking. When I try this on my less good leg, it's harder to find the balance point which causes me to accelerate, but it's there. I try gliding for as long as possible -- usually until I either lose my balance or come to a complete stop. Even when I am skating at full speed, I try to stall in this position for a split second in order to get the most out of my glide.

By fiddling with my balance during my warm-up and again during my cool -down, I am increasing the chance that my muscles will remember what it's like to skate symmetrically. As with anything, I don't expect to see results immediately. But if I keep at it, eventually all this fiddling with my balance will help put the glide in my stride I've always been looking for.