It was bound to happen: Days after I took my first-ever skate on the Rockefeller Center ice rink, I’ve got the itch to buy a new pair of blades.

Which I need like a hole in the head. I’ve got little enough time as it is for eating and breathing, practically — scheduling ice time is a laughable notion at this point. New ice skates would end up in the back of a closet, along with the all the other clutter I accumulate. And while the expense isn’t an issue, the inevitable new hockey-gear add-ons will start looking like rational purchases to go along with shiny new footwear, and before you know it, several hundred dollars disappear.

So I really should disabuse myself of this budding impulse-purchase impulse.

Except that, bad ice and all, it felt so good gliding around out there. Damn it.

Maybe the key is to long after ice-skating equipment that doesn’t actually exist. To wit: High-quality hockey skates with specialized titanium-adamantium alloy metal blades. If I settle for nothing but this imaginary best, it’ll keep athletic-consumer urges at bay.