I had a wonderful time on Saturday. My blue velvet dress rides really high on the leg, so that was weird but I got used to it. I went first on the Music Interp, which was absolutely insane but I got some applause on my back spiral and I didn't fall on my face, so I count that as a win.
Compulsory also went well. Once again, spiral is my strongest element. When in doubt, spiral. We got our little medals which was silly, but I got a compliment on my edges from a coach that usually doesn't compliment anything. That meant more than the medal. I felt it was a good experience for me, I learned a lot. It was scary and a little ridiculous, but valuable.
But as usual, I ended up working. I helped sign up and measure girls for the Ice Show. And it kinda depressed me.
About 75% of the girls sucked in their little stomachs when I went for their waist. From the tiniest tot to the tallest teen, it didn't matter their age. "Don't suck in," I said quietly. Most of them breathed again, but I had a few holdouts. "I have all day," I looked them right in their baby blue eyes, and waited. The act of breathing added just an inch at most.
I don't even know what to think, but I will say that I am going to stop making derogatory jokes about what I eat, my size, and myself within earshot of the kiddos. And I'll try to keep the measurements quiet. I speak them just because it helps me remember for that few seconds, but I won't announce it to all the bystanders.
We've heard the horror stories about Coaches who weigh their students, but I haven't heard of any instances happening at Home Rink. I know coaches encourage their kids to eat healthy, but that's a general thing.
There is a Doctor's Scale in the Costume shop, but no one's ever used it and I covered it in costume butterfly wings.
When I got to a good weight, my goal stopped being to be Thin. It became to Be Healthy and Fit. Thin was a byproduct. I can be thinner, my weight dropped way low last winter, (the cold and working too hard) but it came at a price. I was lightheaded and weak a lot. I can't skate like that. I have to remember that being built like a draft horse means I have a lot of muscle, which means the iconic image of the willowy skater will never be me, and anyone who doesn't like it knows where the door is.
It's been beaten into the ground, but apparently that horse is not dead yet. We have to stop telling our girls that Thin is the primary measure of their value. It's not.