August 2009
Early August 2009
The Place is Dead
When I returned from vacation, I had one request for a private lesson on Saturday. To make the most of my trip to the rink, I contacted other fairly regular students in order to line up more lessons for that day. Everyone else was either out of town or had other plans. So I drove down there to give one thirty-minute lesson. I stayed to skate a short while for myself. I tried again to set up lessons the next weekend. No takers. The manager told me the place is so dead, she had to combine classes and would only have one class per week for me to teach. Fortunately, she has someone else who can teach it, so I don’t have to waste my time. If I lived close to the rink, it would not be an issue, but I commute a half-hour to get there. Sometimes it’s just best to cut your losses. I’ll start teaching again in September. I am glad I did not make sacrifices this summer to be more available. This is worse than last year. From what I have heard, there are only a few kids on the public sessions. Maybe I should go in just to get some practice.
Since I skated a little, I may as well report what I did. My backward attitude spins are coming along, and I am able to lean a little creating what might someday become a decent backward layback. I would really like to own that spin. I have seen so few good ones. I had been off the ice for about three weeks. A break can do a skater good. Bad habits can be forgotten and muscle memory takes over. A friend of mine who skated in childhood and is now retired claims her muscles have Alzheimer’s. I doubt mine will ever forget how to skate. My back camels were nicely hooked, fast, and smooth.
Jumps felt easy and secure. I was not jumping big because there were some hockey kids on the ice and I skate the opposite direction. Coaching has made me a calmer, more confident skater. I can set up, look over my shoulder and wait for an opening. I may be able to practice more effectively in a freestyle session now, if the need arises. In my own estimation, I skate much more like a professional these days. Even if I am only on the ice to teach, I am on the ice regularly during the season and never lose the feel of it. The confidence, I think, comes from actually being a pro. People watch me; they know who I am. I am the teacher, the pro, the one with all of the experience who has been skating forever. I carry myself differently than when I was training. This transformation is probably inevitable, but it is interesting to see it happening to me.
This fall, I will begin my third season as a staff pro at Ice Castle. I am a fixture in the place. Tough as it has been, I enjoy my role there. I appreciate the skater I have become.
Saturday August 8, 2009
Another Coach's Influence
I went to Ice Castle to give a solitary private lesson again. The kid’s mother called on Friday evening to request the lesson. This child is a fairly regular student, so I want to keep them happy. The student, who I previously nicknamed Naomi, is very eager to skate and her parents are supportive. I will probably teach her weekly in the fall and winter. Naomi also takes group lessons. Unfortunately, this session she has a different teacher, someone I don’t particularly like because she has demonstrated questionable behavior in the past and has an affected air. For example, she told me she “studied figure skating under so-and-so”. One does not study skating. One studies the violin, ballet, Shakespeare, Latin, or art history. To make the situation even more ridiculous, this person is an adult-trained skater. She took private lessons like everyone else. This is the type of pro I do not want around my students. She tends to have her talons out ready to sink them into prey while smooth-talking her quarry’s parents.
Naomi did not seem to be paying attention to me. Instead of just skating backward and attempting a one-foot-glide, she skated forward, completed a sloppy two-foot turn then tried to steady herself for the glide. I had to instruct Naomi several times to omit the crappy turn and focus only on the glide. I respect Naomi for incorporating new skills, but they detract from what I want her to achieve. This is probably the influence of the other teacher. Input from various sources can be helpful to students. A different coach often provides a useful perspective. However, my approach for lower level students focuses on one skill at a time until the student is competent enough to combine them effectively.
She also wanted to rush right into crossovers without working through the exercises that build up to correct technique. A student stumbling over her feet to crossover at any cost is not worthwhile, in my opinion. My method for teaching forward crossovers incorporates several steps as follows.
- One-foot swizzles on the circle
- Scooter pushes on the circle
- A scooter push followed by a chassé
- Push, cross, step out
Teaching crossovers as a whole is not necessarily incorrect and may even work well for some students, especially those who display aptitude for the sport. However, I have found most need to learn skills in smaller bites. My method also reinforces correct stroking technique and introduces a valuable ice dance skill. Convincing Naomi to work through the steps was not easy. Naomi needs to work through the steps. They will benefit her greatly. Patience won out, and Naomi cooperated with me then explained the steps to her mother after the lesson. Mom agreed her daughter was demonstrating technique rather than just tripping over her feet.
I will be out of town again for the next couple of weekends. Naomi’s mother told me she doesn’t want her daughter to miss lessons, so she will ask the group coach to fill in. I smiled and agreed. My stomach turned. I would have rather recommended someone else, but they already know this coach and must be somewhat satisfied with her. For the future, I will establish an exchange program with a coach I trust and present my clients with that coach’s card when I will be away. I would rather not leave my students in the clutches of certain pros.
Week of August 9, 2009
Unmotivated
My lack of motivation to skate lately has been well documented in this journal. Unfortunately, since I returned from Mexico, I have done very little exercise at all unless painting my house counts. I have been working on the breakfast room. Before vacation, I did the great room. The whole house actually needs a face-lift. We also tiled the floor of the great room and will do the breakfast room once I finish painting. My neck and shoulder ache from painting the ceiling. One simply cannot paint a ceiling without straining one’s neck. According to legend, Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel lying on his back.
I an effort to loosen up my sore muscles, I took a walk and stretched my arms as I moved. We live in a rural area and there are several horse farms within a reasonable walk from the house. Some of the horses come right up to me and let me pet them. The more affectionate ones like to nuzzle. This was enough to get me off my butt and on the road. Despite the hot, muggy weather; I felt energized. The least I can do is spare an hour out of my busy day to take a walk. I am not really busy; I’m being facetious. It seems the less you do, the less you want to do.
My lack of activity will come to a screeching halt in September. Hopefully, business will pick up at the rink. I am also going back to school for my change of career and have accepted a part time teaching job at the college. Then I actually will be busy, and I will have to grab time to workout wherever I can. Once engaged in a more active routine, I should become more motivated to take time out for myself. Time for myself is presently the rule rather than the exception.
Sounds like I’ve been in a fashion show or at least attended one. Nope. The lack of motivation theme actually continues. My husband and I went to my father’s house, although now it is legal mine, it will always be my father’s house. It was good for me to go there. I found it rather comforting. Everything was as I left it or as he left it. The kitchen calendar still displayed November 2008, when he went to the hospital. I did not take it down until we left and placed it in the drawer where I stored his get-well and sympathy cards. One could become awfully maudlin in such a situation, but I’ll spare you that.
I brought a pair of inline speed skates along fully intending to use them on the high school’s old asphalt track. They installed a new soft one where I would never attempt or be allowed to roller skate. I did not skate anyway. My husband golfed and I sewed. It was restful. Usually, I take walks when I visit. My dad’s town is quaint and charming, mostly Victorian houses many of which have been beautifully renovated. In order to get myself moving, I needed a source of motivation. Pigging out and wanting to walk off the indulgence serves well. Additionally, many cats live in the neighborhood. I am a cat lover and have ten cats at home. All are spoiled rotten. I go through cat withdrawal when on vacation. Interacting with local cats alleviates some of my feline loneliness. Each time I went out, I met friendly cats that came right up to me looking for affection, which I gladly provided.
Soon I knew where every cat lived. Each time I took a walk, I sought my furry friends. They were happy to see me too. My husband is also a cat lover. He would have to be to live with ten cats regardless of how he feels about me. He took a couple of walks with me and enjoyed the variety of sweet kitties that came out to play. I try to walk for about an hour during which time I can easily see a dozen cats sitting in windows, nesting on porch furniture or soaking up the sun on the grass. Some run up to me meowing and roll around at my feet as I scratch behind their ears. This is how I got my exercise. Maybe more people would go to the gym if furry mascots greeted them at the door.
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