2015 Skating Resolutions

Last year I didn't make any Skating Resolutions. I simply wasn't in a good enough place to do that. Unhappy, miserable, lonely and unsupported, I think my only goal for 2014 was to simply stay on the ice. Anything else I did was secondary.

But this year has been a complete Turnaround. I'm more confident and a hell of a lot stronger than I was back then.

Armed with that newfound strength, I unpacked all the Bad Baggage associated with my spins. I sincerely believe a huge part of the problem was Anxiety. Having been beaten about the head and shoulders repeatedly about it, I simply freaked out and tried too hard, and the bad vibes just snowballed themselves into a complete mental block. So, I backed up. I looked at where I was as a whole, how far I'd come, and the entirety of the process so far.

I've really been seriously Skating for just under 3 years. That's not very long. And yes, I had a lot of flow and power, but that's because I spent a lot of time doing what I could do, as I wasn't being pushed to do more. True, at this stage of the game I *should* be able to, but also I hadn't really been taught to spin until the FS1 Test came due. Only then did I spend an agonizing amount of time, entire lessons, trying and failing at spinning, literally under the gun. And I couldn't do it. I got hung up on what I couldn't do, which sapped my confidence.

So I let the anxiety go. If I spun, great. If not, okay. And I focused on what I could do instead. I worked on extension, edges, lifting my free leg higher, keeping my head up, those kinds of niggly details. And in lessons we still worked on spins. A lot. Sometimes they worked and sometimes not, and we never spent an entire lesson on them. Most of the time I traveled pretty far, but sometimes it worked. And Coach repeated himself a lot, but I thanked him for his patience every time. When I started getting those anxious vibes in practice, I stopped spinning and did something else for awhile and then came back to it.

At my lesson this week, Coach asked me to spin. And I did. And it was perfect. Seven revolutions, perfectly centered. I pulled out of it, checked the tracing, and nearly cried. Coach laughed, folded his arms and asked me to try a sit spin.

Needless to say, that didn't work too well. But it worked better than it did last week. Still, we backed off the one-foot idea and tried it on two feet again.

I told Coach I was going to push to get up to Bronze this year. Bronze Moves are happening. They are not perfect, but we're working on them. Jumps are happening. We worked hard on Salchow, and Toe Loop (not a Toe Waltz!) is something I've determined to master. Sit Spin is Bronze, and having gotten a handle on my Spin Anxiety, I believe this can happen.

So, my Skating Resolutions for 2015 are:

Pass Pre-Bronze Freeskate

Pass Bronze MIF

And if Bronze Freeskate happens, great! If not, that's OK, too! I sent Coach a really fun bit of music to put together another program, and he seems to like it as much as I do. He wants me to cut it right away! I listened to it again this morning, and debated the wisdom of this particular piece... it's really fast and Coach indicated there'd be a lot of toepick action. Yikes, but YES!! So, with two programs (a "Serious" one and a "Fun" one) and a lot of work, we can make the Skating Resolutions happen.

　2014 was my Turnaround Year. 2015 will be my Success Year.

Skate "Walkers" - Weapons of Mass Destruction

We always get a few inquiries when there's a tot on public skate: "Do you have those push things?"

I always say no.

The truth is, we do have them, but I hate them. Everyone does. They are the worst things ever conceived to "assist" with learning to skate. And like most things adults dream up to keep kids safer, they actually do the opposite.

I got to help out with a mass of tots, during a "Freebie" Learn to Skate class. (Free class, you get the instructor you pay for... me!) Mostly I just held them up and dried tears, but there were too many of them for us to handle, so the dreaded skate walkers were broken out. And the kids and parents squealed in delight, the parents thinking that kid would be safer and kid seeing a wonderful little jungle gym sliding towards him. Us skaters paled in horror.

Little kids clambered up the walkers, pushing them faster and faster, skidding into other kids, the walls, the coaches, and finally falling backwards, their feet and the walker flying up into the air and down onto the next kid who squealed that there was now a free walker. Another kid, who had fallen hopelessly over and over, still hadn't learned that ice is hard and slippery, so was now doing push ups on the bar of the walker, his feet dangling down. When he tried to roll himself over the top bar, the thing slid backwards like a rocket, slamming kid down with agonizing force. He blinked, shook his head, and went for it again, perhaps trying to permanently marry Skating and Gymnastics. (Like the Big League skaters do on TV.... was that my inside voice?)

Over and over, walkers slammed into my feet and shins. I ached for my expensive blades getting more nicks, my boots getting more dings, and prayed I wouldn't be upended by one of those horrible things. If I fell, I knew I'd land on someone cute and I didn't want that.

"You don't need that walker," I hopelessly tried to convince a Cindy Lou Who, who was actually doing really well and seriously didn't need the walker.

"NO!" she grinned up at me, pushing that thing into another fallen kid who tried to roll away. "It's mine and I NEED IT!"

The walkers become an immediate crutch. Convinced of skating's deadly nature, the kids grab for safety and never learn to ... well, walk. Because that's what they learn the first lesson: walking.

A real coach handed me a bigger first timer. I held her hands and talked her through walking. I pinned her hair up out of her face, tightened up her skates, and we walked for awhile. "Okay," I said. "Pick one of my hands and let that one go." She picked my right hand, and let go. So we walked like that awhile. "Okay, let go my other hand, and try it yourself."

And she did. She was still a bit unsteady, but she had the idea. And pretty soon she dismissed me. Seriously. "I think I can do it," she turned to me, smiling, and walked off.

So, yes, it's a literal pain in the back and legs to help your first timer in skates, but it's worth it. A huge part of skating is the satisfaction of doing something that seemed impossible just a few minutes or days ago. Impossible doesn't become possible with a crutch, it gets there with help.

Skating Costumes

In addition to sewing two Harlequin skirts, The Mouse Queen, Mama G, and endless minor alterations on our stock costume dresses for Ice Show, I had the honor of sewing an Elsa dress, an Anna cape and a Kristoff vest, hat and boot covers. These are for some "Learn to Skate" events Home Rink is hosting. Right now I am beyond done with sewing anything more.

Elsa was a mashup of the Jalie Princess dress and McCall's "Frozen-but-not-really" Princess dresses. I used the bodice portion of the Jalie pattern, and the overlays and skirt of the McCalls. While not exactly easy, it wasn't as complicated as I anticipated. I simply had to take my time and work the puzzle through. It's a genuine skating dress, but I did advise the skater to try it carefully before doing any complex manuevers. The overlays and long skirt may pose a hazard. She's not competing in it, so she doesn't have to do too much in it.

The Anna Cape was really simple. The McCall's pattern packet included it along with the Elsa dress. It was all straight seaming, with a collar thrown in in to wake you up at the end. I did not line it, as that would have taken up more time than I had and made it even heavier. That said, four yards of fabric of any weight is too heavy to skate in well, so I hope the skater in this one is just standing around.

Now, the Kristoff Vest was fun. I had no pattern, as McCall's doesn't think many boys want costumes from Disney Movies. But he just wears basic black with a furry vest type thing. So, I made a furry vest. Armed with two yards of pricey sueded cuddle fur in black/gray, I cut a basic vest with turned down collar. I rolled the armholes and bottom so the fur trimmed itself, added belt loops and a belt of scrap suede. It looks pretty good! I kinda want to keep it! Thrilled with my success, I made a hat, too! A simple scalene triangle, sewn on two sides and the edge rolled up wide in the back. But he needed boots... so I cut some simple covers with what I had left. Since the cuddle fur doesn't stretch, I added a black spandex panel to the back, which will allow the skater to pull it on and over his boot. Straps on the bottom will held keep it in place, and I gave him a few safety pins for good measure. Kristoff is fairly well outfitted at this point.

Having sewn pretty solidly since mid-November, I cleaned and reorganized my sewing things. I'm taking my machine in for a tuneup and cleaning, as I'm  finding and breathing bits of cuddle fur everywhere. Next year is a new year, and I'm starting clean.

But I do have an admission.. I've never seen "Frozen."

Public Skating at Christmas

Most normal people only ice skate around the holidays. Because it's winter and ice skating is a rote, traditionsl thing to do. Edward Tew of The Telegraph posted this hilarious article about public skating during the holidays, http://www.telegraph.co.uk/men/the-filter/11279701/Ice-skating-is-not-just-for-Christmas-its-for-never.html. Go read it. It's pretty spot on, as I remember skating on holiday sessions before I "skated."

Here in the US, Ice rinks appear around town, too. And the general public shows up in droves, to lace up questionable rental skates and slide around for an hour or so. And yes, us Crazy People go, too. But it's a bit different for us.

The moment you come in with your own skates, you're setting yourself apart. You came to get in a little extra ice time, maybe work on some simple things, or just to get some exercise in. You plop down your skate bag and people are glancing in your direction. Pull out your heavy freestyles with the fancy logo on the heel, put on the plastic guards, and the glances become stares. People are staring. A little girl points and whispers to her mom.

Trying to ignore it, you proceed with your ritual. Ankle pads, trouser socks, right skate first, lacing up tightly and slowly. Then left skate. The whole thing can take five minutes, but they are still staring.

Moving on, you rent a locker. I don't know why women insist on dragging their purses on the ice with them. It's a hazard, and you can't skate with a massive Louis Vitton hobo on your shoulder.

Step out to the ice, gingerly remove a guard, set one foot down on the questionable ice surface. Remove the other guard and you're on this ice.

Okay, skaters skate on indoor ice year round, but there are differences in indoor ice, too. I know exactly what to expect from the ice at Home Rink.  There are rinks I don't like to skate at because their ice feels weird. But this ice. This ice is hard and snowy and sliced up like a bad holiday turkey. You try and push off and your teeth rattle.

And they are still staring. The expectation has been set. They expect you to DO SOMETHING.

You shove off into the rotating mob, trying to get a little speed and get the feel of this, the surface of Mars ice. From your left a dude in hockey skates and an iPod darts by at 90mph, suddenly pulling a C Cut stop in front of a wobbly mom and her kid, upending everyone in a fifteen foot radius. It's a crop circle of people.

You maneuver around the disaster zone and start to get the hang of it. Dodge, stop, slow down, dodge again... this is tiring. You press on, and you notice dads pointing to you and saying, "Look how that lady does it! It's easy! You can skate!" If only they knew how many hours of practice make this look so easy.

You look to the middle where typically you can move better. There's a dad and a tot, and five girls doing selfies. Okay, this is doable. You push over the ruts and snow, praying your edges withstand this butchered turkey ice, and make it to the center.

Ah, yes. Space. You flip some lazy waltz 3's, and start to think this isn't so bad. Skating is a territorial sport. Skaters will vie for space all the time on the ice, it's a matter of personal will as to who will give way. But Normal People tend to back down if there's a "Skater" on the ice. So people are backing off and giving you space. You feel great. When suddenly out of the corner of your eye you spot that little girl in the cute red holiday coat, tottering into your path and you halt abruptly. But you still startle her so she falls, looking up at you with Bambi eyes as if to say, "How could you?" You feel awful and help her up, while her parents look on warily as though you're a potential child abductor.

Meanwhile the Selfie Girls are still around. "Can you do that jump where you spin around in the air?" They approach you with funny grins and you're not sure if they're serious.

Even if you could do "that jump," you wouldn't do it here, so you try to appease them with a waltz jump. You try to get some speed with back crossovers, lean into that back edge to get ready to jump, and suddenly you hit a deep hockey rut and lose balance, so your jump is more an effort to stay upright. Selfie girls shrug, not amused. But Cute Little Girl is watching, so you do a small one for her.

But it's crowded. And rough. And the people who thought you were going to give them a free Ice Capades are disappointed when you just give up and start doing laps. You think, "Maybe it will be better after they resurface." So you carry on and wait for the Zamboni. But when it comes out, it just scrapes up the snow, doesn't lay down any water, and then people are herded back onto the worse "dry cut" ice.

You pack up and sigh. You bcome painfully aware that nothing would make all these nonskaters happier than seeing you bite it fully out here on this horrible ice. And that's just a matter of time. Maybe those early morning practice sessions are the best ice after all.

The Zen Wisdom of Figures: Part 2

I started the path to Figures on a lark. I read and heard they were good for improving one's freeskating technique, and I wanted that. I also wanted something slow and calm and deliberate, to contrast the nonstop crazy that is Freestyle. But as I go on, Figures become something a bit... more.

When I did Figures in my Freestyle skates, it was easy. FO8? Yes! Serpentine? A little challenging but yes! I liked it because I could do it. It wasn't *really* a challenge. I had the quads and the speed to pull it off. BO8? Back outside edges are my favorites!

So I got excited. And I talked. And I inherited my Actual Figure Skates. And then things changed a bit.

My Figure Skates scared me. I went from being confident and nuts, to more timid and frightened than I'd been in my sports store skates four years ago. It was jarring. This wasn't me. I had fought hard to be the strong skater, the fast skater. And suddenly I couldn't lift my foot!

Suddenly I didn't like Figures that much. I wanted to... but I didn't. Not like that, not scared and weird. When I work with Freestyle Coach, I always say, "I'll try," no matter what Crazy he throws at me. Even if it doesn't work. (And a lot of it doesn't.) I still try. But today, Patch Coach asked me to try backwards one foot glides. "Think back to Beta," he said.

Beta? I remembered. I remember trying backwards one foot glides incesssantly. I couldn't do them. I toppled inside within a second, I was so scared. I didn't think I'd ever glide backward. I went home so frustrated, so many days. Today I stand tall backwards, my free foot perched neatly on my skating heel. It was a hard path to get to this level of comfort.

"Just swizzle out, big and wide," he gestured. "And find your balance point."

So I took a breath and tried. And I did one foot glides backwards, in the Figure Skates. I listened to my body and the blade, and though I caved inwards faster than I would in my Freestyles, I did get some distance. Aware that I had no "safety catch" drag pick, my posture straightened up. I looked up at the wall clock, not down at the ice. I rested on my heel, the back of the blade, where I was safe.

"Find your balance point."

One of the tenents of Buddhism is "Beginner Mind." Approach things with the mindset of a beginner, always. I'd worked hard to be strong in my skates, and now I just had to step back, and work harder. Again. So I slowed down, let go my expectation of where I had been and accepted where I was: Beta. Backwards glides, but with no toepick. The Patch Skates forced correct technique, and as I like to joke, "their correction is swift and terrible." I pushed back, wide and deliberate, and did a slow glide backwards. A beginner, a Beta Skater, and that's okay. The reason I suddenly was hesitating about Figures was that I didn't like being a beginner again. I just have to embrace it, and start all over.

"Now try an outside edge," Coach Yoda encourages.

"I can't," I say. "Not yet!"

"Just try!"

So I tried, and I skidded, and I started to learn that a little skid isn't so scary. I just came back to my balance point, and tried again.

"Next week we'll work on a real lean instead of a false lean," he said nicely.

"Was I false leaning?" I was frustrated.

"Yes, but go ahead and switch skates."

I know that the Holidays can be a stressful time for some of us. I wish that for those of us who get bogged down to see through the Busy and Tinsel and Glitter and Whatever.  Slow down, and find your balance point. Safe as peaches.