Last year I made a couple of decisions that would completely change the tenor of my life in Seattle: I got rid of my car and I resolved to get my ass into shape.

A bus pass, a "car for sale" ad in the classifieds and a Zipcar membership satisfied the first resolution, but satisfaction of the second resolution is, ah, ongoing. I quickly learned that my long-neglected membership at the Ballard Health Club, which I now use three to four times a week, would only take me so far. I had to find an outdoor activity that amounted to more than walking the distance between Shorty's and Whiskey Bar.

The answer was obvious: My girlfriend has been a member of the Rat City Rollergirls since they formed in 2004, and she has been training potential rollergirls for two years. I would get a pair of quad skates and go trail-skating with her.

I'd whip around the Green Lake loop, glide along Alki and barrel through Myrtle Edwards wearing a pair of blue satin Dolphin shorts and a pair of Radio Shack AM/FM radio headphones. (You were totally thinkin' that.) And when I felt confident enough, I would begin skating the new Ballard leg of the Burke-Gilman Trail -- the Interstate 5 of Seattle's recreational trails.

Finding a pair of quad skates that would fit an adult man with a size 11 shoe was unexpectedly easy. I went to Fast Girl, a no-nonsense skates-and-gear shop run by Rat City skaters Wile E. Peyote (Sarah O'Donoghue) and La Petit Mort (Jennifer Savaglio).

Wile E. and Morty asked me a few dozen questions -- Are you planning to get around the neighborhood in these? Can you wiggle your toes in there? -- and I was soon outifitted with a pair of Riedell R3s and exactly as much protective gear as I needed to hit the trail.

I soon discovered that roller skating is nothing like riding a bike. You can't just pick it up again. Years of my childhood spent on eight wheels didn't mean a damned thing once I took a few tentative strides on my big-boy skates and hit the ground like a two-legged Christmas tree stand. My thighs, calves and shins were howling in rebellion. If ever you've seen an adult on quads or rollerblades and thought he's taking the easy way out, let me assure you otherwise.

The Burke-Gilman has proven to be a terrific training ground, though every time I take it in skates I feel like a rolling orange safety cone. The BG is a human-powered superhighway of bikes, runners, skateboarders and power-walkers; it's open to pretty much anything but motorized vehicles and horses. If you lack the ability to sidestep fast-moving traffic or to slow down to accomodate slow-moving traffic, the BG will learn you fast.

The trail presents other challenges to skaters that bikers and runners don't have to worry about. Small hills may as well be sheer cliff faces to someone with wheels on their feet. The trail is covered with bits of gravel that can send a skater flying. When the trail crosses railroad tracks, as it does in both Fremont and Ballard, I have to baby-step across on my toe stops. And the BG actually runs out between Third Avenue Northwest and the Locks, forcing you onto unprotected city streets.

But the rewards far outweigh the drawbacks. The Burke-Gilman's Lake Washington view is unmatched in Seattle, and the sights you'll see from the new Ballard Locks-to-Golden Gardens segment -- the train trestle over the Locks, the masts of Shilshole Bay Marina -- are equally terrific. I skate that stretch of the BG regularly, and it's so enjoyable that I don't even mind the small stretch that ascends to cross the train tracks.

Should you decide to lace up and roll out, I have a little advice to offer from my brief time as an eight-wheeler:

Keep the volume on the iPod turned down. Though the trail is dotted with signs advising cyclists to "use bell or voice when passing," few remember to do so until the last minute. By the time you hear a cyclist say "on your left" a second time, they'll be on top of you.

If you feel yourself losing your balance, crouch down. That will center your weight. I've learned that one the hard way.

Skate with friends. It's easier to pace yourself that way, and you can pretend that you're part of that roller-skating gang from "The Warriors."

Go ahead and have that soft-serve cone at Little Coney. You've earned it. Besides, it's got tons of calcium. It's almost like food in that regard.

Be respectful of my Dolphin shorts. I don't own them yet, but by God I will.

Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company