You know, as a 36-year-old man, sometimes I like to stand on the back bar of the shopping cart and ride it into the parking lot towards my car.
When my wife is with me, she appreciates how the speed the cart picks up pulls me farther and farther away from her (I don't get embarrassed easily; she does). So sometimes, just to give her grief, I'll kick one leg back like I'm skating along the ice in an ice dancing competition.
It sounds better than "figure skating", that's why.
There Is No Box.