Mohawks - The Ongoing Saga

It took me a good six months before I could do a serviceable mohawk. The six months before that was spent doing mohawks on the wall, in endless rounds of ISI Gamma classes, and repeated falls to my rear. My chiropractor once asked me, “Did you break your tailbone at some point? It’s crooked.” I told him it was highly likely. But mohawks took a long time. I simply could not wrap my head around turning. Turning at speed? Forget it.

And for a long time even after I could do an ungainly turn on the ice, I was allowed to skip mohawks at my leisure. I did mohawks only when I absolutely had to, not because I had to turn. Why risk my neck on a mohawk when I could turn on two feet?

Well, New Coach isn't having any of this. I got a nice long lecture on the importance of mohawks, and over the course of three weeks I got no fewer than eight different drills, all involving various forms of mohawks. I do Mohawks from forward crossovers, mohawks from back edges, mohawks from three turns, mohawks from tap toe steps, and mohawks from more mohawks. Inside, outside, forward and back, I do a hell of a lot of mohawks. Coach never lets me turn on the ice unless it's a mohawk. If I chicken out and two foot it, I have to skate back and try again. Better, no new skill is taught in isolation; they all come with mohawks like fries with my cheeseburger.

Result? Well, naturally my mohawks have gotten better, but more than that my confidence and speed has improved. Which is great because now I can turn faster, but bad because on the moments I do chicken out or worse, hesitate, the end result is lightning fast and hella scary.

Now we're working on making my mohawks pretty. I'm not allowed to bring my feet together before I turn that mohawk. The free leg now has to turn out and head for the ice from a full extension. This is proving difficult. My feet like to check in with each other before anything considered marginally dangerous. This also happened with consecutive Bunny Hops. My feet liked to come together, check in, then pull back and jump again. Coach didn’t like that, so I spent a good amount of time in a “I’m gonna hop” position halfway down the ice before getting myself together to jump again. But it’s working. My Bunny Hops can happen at faster clips now, as do all my mohawks.

Discussions of Mohawks in the lobby prompted a parent to ask me where the term “Mohawk” came from. The general consensus is, “Nobody knows.” I do a lot of general reading on skating, and I like the old texts from the early 1900’s. They’re a lot of fun, but even here, all the authors admit to not knowing where “Mohawk” came from.

My best guess is that it’s a Native American reference, made in jest by snobby Englishmen when one of their fellow skaters would hit the ice too hard, thus making a sound like a tomahawk to the ice. I do this a lot; your foot just comes down like lead and  it sounds awful.  This book I’m reading now says that the usage of mohawks came about when English Skaters would greet each other on the ice, mohawk turn and doff their caps to each other, turn forwards and go each other’s way. I can only see Sir Reginald (my made-up name whenever I reference an Olde English Figure Skater doing crosscuts or whatever) making fun of his buddy Duke Orrington when he botches his turn.

“I say, old chap! You sound much like an Indian hatchet on your turn! What are those called? Mohawks?”
“Quite right, my fellow! Haha! Yes, I sound much like a Mohawk!”

And thus Sir Reggie and Duke Orrington forever confused a hairstyle with a crude hand implement, naming something completely irrelevant to either subject; a figure skating element. A century later, it’s something a lot of us struggle with.

So the next time you’re out and working those mohawks, perhaps having a hard time with them that day, just think of Sir Reginald making fun of Duke Orrington and it just might lighten the mood for you.

Because Sir Reggie always does a perfect Mohawk!

 

Motivation Monday

I missed the weekend, I was skating. (As per usual.)

But hard work pays off, as I got some pretty nice words from Coach this morning, along with a few words of warning that since I was getting "too comfortable," he was going to start pushing me harder. But that's what we wanted, right? A little farther, a little more, and I learned today that the weird turn he has me doing is actually a stepping stone to a Loop.

I may be a year or more away from doing a Loop. Judging by how slowly the Salchow is going, my jumping days will be slow in coming. But a little farther every day, and it will happen. My mohawks, now gaining repair and confidence, are a testament to that.

Farther every day!

"Let it Go," Please let it go.

As predicted, I am getting tired of "Let it Go." This is how I'm starting to react whenever someone is doing yet another skating program to "Let it Go." Seriously, I start doing random arm and leg things.



Actually, it's more like this.





Kids. Worlds of music out there.  There's nothing worse than every skater at the rink skating to slightly different variations of the same tune. Please let this fad be over by the end of summer!

Terror Tuesday

I spent a portion of an evening watching the Men's Long Program Event from Torino, 2010 on my big TV. I did this because I could, as my husband had installed some neat thing that would take signals from my tablet and allow me to watch YouTube on the big screen, but also because I like skating.

I've gotten to a point where I can see where and when a jump goes bad, when a skater becomes discouraged or frazzled, and how a costume can make or break a program. (Especially in men's events. Yikes!) I watched the fourth skater in the event, I forget who it was, but he seemed shaky right out of the gate. He wound up for a jump, and sure enough, his foot slipped out from under him and he was down in a bad way. But unlike the other skaters who fell, got up, and kept going, this guy got up, put his hands on his hips and his head down and proceeded to chastise himself, like he was on Practice Ice and had just messed this up. Meanwhile the music is going, and it's going to keep going because clearly he is not hurt beyond the capacity to continue, and he's still shaking his head and poking along the boards for what seemed like an eternity. "GO!" I shouted at the skater from four years ago, so frustrating was this behavior.

This morning I was working on spins. For the Record, after my terribly traumatic fall during a goddamn ice show during an attempted spin, I am terrified of spinning. I've been trying to spin for a year now, and it's not getting any better, because I can't find my balance and I'm frightened of the rapid movement. I bail on it. It got a little better for awhile, but now that I'm in my new boots it seems to have gone away again which is beyond frustrating.


But I'm determined, and so I was trying to spin. I got in a few good attempts, but I caught the back of my blade once, pulled forward too late, and went down on my knees and slid into the boards lightly. I was shaking I was so scared. I wasn't hurt, wasn't beyond the point of continuing my session, but I stood up, put my hands on my hips and proceeded to chastise myself.

Wait, I thought. What are you doing? Don't be like that nut in Torino! Skate, damn you!

I pushed forward and mohawked into some fast back crossovers in an 8, shaky legs and all. And then I tried some of the mohawks on a circle in my shaking legs, telling them to function regardless. It kinda worked. So, I made myself fall a few times more, each time scrambling back up as fast as I could to continue in my eight pattern.

Here's what I learned: It's hard to regain balance and speed after a fall. I can see how a Big League skater would be out of sorts for a few seconds after a hard fall, simply because it's a shock. And I was prepared for these falls. I timed and spaced them out so I wouldn't hit the boards or any part of me that I didn't want to strike. I can't imagine hitting an elbow or twisting an ankle or dripping blood like I was, and then going on with it.

But I practiced falls. And I walked away with a cold rear end and with a bit of understanding. Perhaps when I watch the rest of the Men's LP event later on, I'll stick to costume commentary. (Doubtful.)

　

Motivation Monday

I love Power 3's. Love love love them. I loved them before I could do them, because there was just something cool about them. So, I made an effort to teach myself how to do them, and it was pretty terrible for the first few months. I'd fling myself into the turn, because that was the only way I knew how to do it, then pull into a backwards crossover, hitch up on my toepick in a straight line instead of an arc, and grind myself to a halt before widestepping into a fresh flat to wing into another turn. Anyone on the rink with me would know I was trying Power 3's by the rythmic **Scraaaaaatch**Clunk**scraaaatch**clunk** I made as I traveled.

But I didn't give up on them. Eventually I figured out that back edge, and how to hold and turn closer to the center of the lobe. I still scratch a bit, the left side still wings too fast, and my step into the new lobe is wider than it should be, but my Power 3's are one of the things I'm most proud of. I do them alternating now, along with alternating power mohawks, as a part of my warmup. I have a long ways to go on them, but they are one of the elements that shows just how far I've come.

My current "That is so cool but I can't do it" Skill is Backwards Cross Strokes. I'm sure that eventually I will do backwards cross strokes with proficiency, and remembering just how hard those Power 3's were makes the process a little easier. And enjoying the challenging Process is what makes this fun.