Blade Runners

Shaking his head, in-line skater Richard Holland admitted he had seen nothing like it--a largely solitary sport performed on boardwalks and back streets suddenly reborn as a teeming free-for-all near the heart of downtown Los Angeles.

But there he was, among about 2,000 colorfully clad skaters, jam-packed Sunday morning at the starting line of the Los Angeles Marathon’s first ever in-line event. Already sweating, he balanced on his skinny wheels near the Los Angeles Convention Center with the rest of the racers--crowded together, elbow pad to elbow pad, feeling like a sardine on skates.

“Man, it was crowded in there,” Holland said of the start. “People were clipping each other’s skates. When you moved your foot to begin a stroke, somebody was there ahead of you.”

But then he turned to take in the expansive sight of thousands of skaters lined up behind him. And it was then, he said, that he was glad he was there.

“You could feel the energy of all those people willing you forward,” said the 48-year-old Los Angeles man. “It was like a concert on wheels.”

Indeed, as the starter’s gun sounded and the mass of skaters surged forward, scores of participants later acknowledged a nagging fear: Are we going to get all these racers, heads bobbing, legs flailing, arms akimbo, on the road without somebody getting trampled?

For the next half an hour or so, they would trave a six-mile course that would take them south to Exhibition Park and back again along Figueroa Street. While some professional bladers won cash prizes, most entrants were there just for fun. Still, everyone wondered how they would fare in such a large crowd.

“As we started rolling, the thought crossed my mind, ‘This is the first time I’ve skated with any more people than just my wife,’ ” said skater Jose Cedillo. “I had this image of a couple of kids falling at the front of the pack and the rest of us going down like dominoes.”

That didn’t happen. The marathon’s premier skating event went off with only a few minor injuries, just as race official Tim Martin predicted it would.

In fact, officials said, some expected pre-race tension between runners and skaters never materialized, even though those groups often fight for space on crowded Southern California beach boardwalks. Sunday’s events were scheduled to keep sneakers and wheels from ever crossing. Skaters waiting to begin their event cheered for runners, and some runners later clapped as bladers whisked toward the finish line.

“This may look hairy, but it’s not as dangerous as people think,” said Martin, director of operations for USA Inline Racing, which helps organize similar events across the country. “We just did a race in Duluth, Minn., with 1,200 bladers and only three people fell. These people are going to be all right.”

Then Martin put his hands on his hips, shook his head and added: “Except those people without helmets.” While event officials did not require helmets, they wagged a finger in warning to those who competed without them.

The scofflaws included Bernie Buggs, who wondered for one moment Sunday morning if he was out of his ever-loving, roller-blading mind, to enter such an event without a helmet.

“I looked around at this mob of skaters and I told my buddy, ‘Geez, we could be in trouble;’ I knew we forgot something,” said the 27-year-old skater from Duarte. “All I kept saying to myself was, ‘I hope I don’t fall. I hope I don’t fall.’ At least I had my skates.”

Bernadette Duffy, an aspiring actress who considered a helmet and pads to be excess baggage, looked askance when one observer told her he would wear a safety helmet just to watch the race, let alone ride in it.

“Look, we’re not racing, that’s why we’re all the way back here,” she said. “It can’t be any worse than riding on the bike path in Santa Monica on a Sunday afternoon, now can it? If anyone falls, I’ll jump over them.”

She motioned to her bare, un-padded legs: “If I fall, I always fall on my butt and my hips, and I’ve got my own padding there.”

Nearby, race official Martin said going without a helmet was like drag-racing without a seat belt. “Who do those people think they’re doing?” he said. “But, then again, this is L.A. So, I guess anything goes.”

In addition to about 100 elite skaters, there was a wild bunch in these West Coast ranks of skaters who made onlookers scratch their heads and wonder if this wasn’t some inland version of the Venice Beach boardwalk.

There was a man with a glittery red cape, a woman wearing an Army helmet. There were skaters throwing out flowers like some Tiny Tim on wheels. And, of course, skaters pushing the requisite baby strollers.

Among the hordes were skaters with ski poles and even one brandishing a para-sail, who whisked among the zig-zagging ranks as though he were on top of some glassy downtown lake.

“There were only about a dozen people who yelled out ‘Cheater!’ so that wasn’t too bad,” said O.M. Goeckerman of Venice, who says he plans to one day market his metal-and-plastic sail contraption under the brand name Blade Wing.

Still, safety was on the minds of event officials, who delayed the start of the in-line tour for nearly an hour until all of the participants in the separate three-mile running race had cleared the course and all water bottles and other debris were removed.

To the sounds of Christopher Cross’ early 1980s hit, “Ride Like the Wind,” the skaters were finally off, setting off on their looping Mid-City course.

Some of the professionals indeed rode like the wind. The fastest finished in less than 15 minutes. At the turnaround, Los Angeles police officers on motorcycles who were escorting the lead pack had to lurch out of the way.

Jonathan Webster, a professional in-line skater, described the incredible high of rolling down a four-lane road, without a bike, runner or automobile in your path.

“It’s like having your Harley full throttle on the open road,” the 21-year-old said. “Having four whole lanes to yourself is really rare. It’s a wide-open feeling. You’ve got your rhythm going and there’s absolutely no one in your way. You’re cruising, man.”

Even some amateur skaters--most of whom finished within half an hour--said there was nothing like participating in an event in which the roads were cleared for skaters only, “moving your body to the vibes of a local funk band whipping up a tribal beat along the sideline.”

“It was just so nice to have people cheering you on,” said skater Laila Rizk. “It’s the first time somebody ever clapped for me on skates. On the boardwalk, all you ever hear are the bikers who are heckling you to get out of the way.”

Although injuries were few, unlucky skater Paul Marchese managed to hit the pavement.

“Somebody fell right in front of me,” he said, dabbing iodine on some badly scuffed kneecaps at the back of an ambulance.

The 35-year-old, who said he flew out from New York City for the in-line event, said next time he’ll wear his kneepads. Gingerly touching a knee, he winced in pain.

“With these knees, it’s going to be an awfully painful ride home,” he said. “Maybe I should go first-class.”