February 2004
Week of February 1, 2004
Quads
The word “quad” (or “quads”) carries a multiplicity of meanings in the sport of skating. Most notably, the term refers to a four-rotation jump in men’s competition. I personally doubt a man will ever win a senior world title, and certainly not an Olympic gold medal, without a successful quadruple jump in his program. Also important to skating and other sports, are the quadriceps muscles, the large thigh muscles that chisel and bulk with the effort of athletic training. For cross-training skaters, quads refer to conventional roller skates, the type with a rectangular arrangement of wheels used for artistic and dance skating. Adults, middle aged and older, recall these skates as part of their childhood while many of today’s young people would refer to them as old fashioned, out-dated, or (Heaven forbid) retro. However, I grew up on roller skates - quad roller skates - real roller skates - not inlines. While the roller blading, half-piping youth might file quad skates along with vinyl records, reel-to-reel home movies, and other artifacts of primitive existence before the chip; these conventional skates hold a special place in my life.
For the last few years, I have distance roller skated in a park for exercise during the summertime when decent ice is scarce. Now that my work schedule allows little time for freestyle ice skating, I have reverted to quads because an area rink offers good club sessions. I have no official background as a roller skater. I never took a lesson of any sort, not as an adult and never as a child. I did not even attend a group beginner class as a little girl. But like many people my age, I owned an assortment of roller skates over the years ranging from clamp on ankle-twisters, to steel-wheeled Roller Derby skates, to tennis shoe disco skates, to department store rink skates with colorful urethane wheels. More recently, my obsession with ice led me to purchase a pair of rockered inline roller skates, though my escapades with basic inlines only amounted to one unpleasant experience. I have never owned a quality pair of indoor quad skates.
This weekend, I picked up my newly mounted skates. An old pair of my custom ice boots will live several more years for roller dance. Since dropping off my equipment for mounting, I have been excited about trying these skates. When I finally laced them onto my feet, I felt as awkward as a green beginner. Barely able to move, I stumbled, rail-grabbing, across the carpet to the entrance to the wooden floor. I stayed near the edge, trudging clumsily on unfamiliar wheels. No one who saw me would ever imagine that sorry klutz landing a glorious flying camel. My husband watched as amusement tweaked the corners of his mouth. I had not looked so pathetic on a pair of skates since first wearing my rockered inlines in the street by our lake house.
With every round, I improved a little as I acclimated to the new wheels on my old boots. After two hours of practice, I could do beautiful outside, inside, and change edge swing rolls. I held lovely extensions and chasséd around the floor. I experimented with crossovers, but decided to forego that challenge for another day. Anticipating the curvature of a blade, I lost balance and almost face-planted onto the polished wood.
A coach gave me a piece of advice as she watched my evolution and obvious ice tendencies. Roller dancers do not steer with their shoulders. While shoulder action is imperative to performing turns and edge changes on blades, it is frowned upon in the roller world. Roller plates are equipped with trucks that allow the wheels to turn. Therefore, skaters are expected to maintain steady shoulders, creating edging only with their lower bodies. I had noticed this technique among some of the dancers but narrow-mindedly assumed it amounted to stiffness and lack of expression. I spent the rest of the session working edges with a quiet upper body and found myself to be quite proficient. A skate dad commented that I look more comfortable on these skates than I did on the inlines.
Next weekend, I will have my very first roller dance lesson. I can hardly wait!
Visit the Photo Gallery to view more beginning roller dance pictures.
Week of February 1, 2004; Part Two
Ice Forsaken
I stayed home from work again this week due to inclement weather. I was so relieved to hear the phone ring. I did not feel well, but due to a commitment I had that day, I would have to be on my deathbed to call in sick with a clear conscience. A snow day solved my problem neatly. Of course, I immediately contemplated going to a daytime public session. Too sick to go to work; weather too nasty to open the school, but skating transcends all inconvenience. However, common sense reined supreme, and I stayed home and slept almost all morning, which is what my body needed. I actually felt guilty about not skating, in spite of the circumstances.
Unfortunately, I still did not feel well on Saturday morning, and the thought of skating in that bitter cold rink made me shudder. In a moment of inspiration, I thought of the roller club session I usually miss due to my preference for ice sports. The roller rink is not cold. I could handle an hour on the floor. It would also help me to prepare for my first private roller dance lesson scheduled for the next morning. By the time I got organized, I only managed an hour of skating. Since someone was working in the pro shop, I bought a pair of dance plugs for my skates. Dance plugs are very tiny “toe stop” substitutes. Freestyle roller skaters use standard toe stops for jumps and spins, but they are not needed for dance and may even get in the way; therefore, dancers replace the toe stop with a small plug, giving their skates a finished appearance.
During this brief session, I gathered the confidence to experiment with forward crossovers. One direction felt more comfortable than the other, but neither would pass as smooth or attractive. I tried a mohawk, but almost took a dive. Without a toe pick or toe stop, tilting forward even the slightest bit spells disaster. Since I am used to an ice blade (or rockered inline wheels), I expect something in the front of my skate. Apparently, roller dance turns must be very flat, though I have not learned proper technique yet.
In the summer, I often avoid a crowded ice arena in favor of roller skating under blue skies in the park. However, this is the first time I have forsaken a good freestyle session for a roller rink. It is not always possible to ice skate, and I am glad to have an enjoyable alternative.
Sunday February 8, 2004
First Roller Dance Lesson
The roller skating club session is early in the morning, giving me a taste of the life of a real skater. My husband drove me to my first lesson, in the dark, long before the rest of the world stirred. I had time to stretch, lace my skates, and warm up before being approached by Olga*, the person I initially contacted about this new endeavor. I doubt Olga will be my regular coach, as she usually does not teach on Sundays, during the session I can attend. However, she provided an introduction to roller dance.
She asked about my goals, and of course, I have no specific goals, only to exercise and enjoy the sport. She asked if I might plan to compete. I responded that in twelve years of ice skating, I have never competed, so I guess it is not in my blood. Olga concluded my goal is to learn to perform the dances properly, and I agreed. To that end, she discussed posture and extension and taught me some terminology. She asked which ice dances I have learned, and I listed them. My list sounded fairly impressive, though I admittedly learned the Bronze dances (Hickory Hoedown, Willow Waltz, and Ten Fox) toward the end of last season and I did not master them. Olga explained that these are called “International Dances” in the roller world. Before learning them, beginners start with a set of basics called “American Dances”. She described them as stiff and rigid, almost a dance version of school figures. However, they demonstrate form, control, and posture.
Although I did not learn an American Dance during this preliminary lesson, Olga taught me a basic forward outside stroking exercise and corrected my tendency to ride long, flowing strokes (like an ice skater). These movements should be quick and precise, performed to a two-beat count. I did forward edges on the figure circles to achieve proper edging and body position. Finally, she taught me an important fundamental called a “progressive run”. This will be my end pattern for now, in lieu of crossovers or something more interesting. The progressive run consists of two steps. First, a push to a forward outside edge, which requires bending the skating knee and extending the free leg. This is the longer stride in the sequence. For the second step, the outside skate retakes the floor and the inside foot slides straight back. Both front wheels leave the floor simultaneously, preventing any toe point. The foot remains flexed with all four wheels parallel to the skating surface. This step is quick and executed on a straight skating leg.
For me the difficulty of this element is two-fold. An ice skater never pushes straight back without pointing the toe. Therefore, this motion is counterintuitive, as it would result in catching a toe pick and falling face first onto the unforgiving ice. The roller dancer must also perform progressive runs with a perfect rhythm of rising and falling on soft knees, otherwise the movement resembles awkward cross country skiing. Olga told me the progressive run is a basic in almost all American Dances. If a skater has good progressives, one quarter of the dance will be good, before skating the rest of the pattern.
I spent the remainder of the session practicing stroking skills, edges, and the progressive run. There will be no session next weekend, so I will not have another opportunity to work these new techniques until the following week.
* Not her real name
Visit the Photo Gallery to view pictures of my first steps as a roller dancer.
Week of February 8, 2004
Rules and Regulations
I had a day off from work for Presidents’ Weekend and went to a public session. Since schools have different holiday schedules for this occasion, I thought his session might not be too bad. Of course, I was mistaken. I had about fifteen minutes of decent skating before the rink became a madhouse. In addition to crowds of parents with small children, many of the little ones pushed metal “walkers” around on the ice. These things are used by people who do not know how to skate. They give beginners a sense of security to move around the ice. Unfortunately, they also inflate the individual’s confidence sending children who really cannot control themselves on skates barreling across the rink at full speed only to crash helplessly when the walker cannot longer compensate for lack of ability. I have never skated at a rink that allowed these things. In fact, I had never seen one before.
A rink guard quickly told me skating backward (and just about anything else remotely interesting) was prohibited on public sessions brimming with small children. Nor I could skate in the center because a group lesson would be offered later. Shortly after this disappointing exchange, a boy darted right at me with his metal walker. I was lucky to get out of the way before the out-of-control terror rammed the apparatus into my blades. I approached the skate police and told him what happened. I explained, in my opinion, people who cannot skate are more hazardous pushing those things around than experienced skaters moving backward. The young man shrugged his shoulders and claimed this was the rink’s policy.
After stepping off the ice, I read the public session rules posted next to the entrance. It did forbid freestyle skating and backward skating. However, it also pronounced walkers acceptable only for people on lesson. I protested that none of these children were taking a lesson. The guard said they would be. What a crock! I can accept using these ambulatory aides under the guidance of an instructor but not in an unchecked free-for-all. In summary, the rules applied to me, but they did not apply to these reckless children. Now, I was angry.
Another adult had also gotten off the ice. We sat together and complained. As a newcomer to the sport, she could not stop or turn quickly enough to avoid the haphazard movement of overconfident children skating with walkers. She had complained numerous times and had telephoned the management to voice her objections. At least I am not the only person dissatisfied with this arrangement. In the future, I will go to another rink where these idiotic contraptions are not used. Even if the place is crowded, I will not have to negotiate a minefield of crazy kids pushing metal annihilation devices.
Week of February 15, 2004
Another New Rink
In the last few months another rink opened in the general area, about a thirty-five minute drive from my home. It is not around the corner, but certainly within a reasonable proximity if decent ice is available. I attended a freestyle session to determine if this place might be a candidate for another hour or two per week. The freestyle I presently frequent on Saturdays is sparsely attended. It actually functions as a pseudo adult session with a couple of young and not very talented exceptions. However, where freestyle ice is concerned, this is not typical. Usually freestyle sessions are attended by higher level athletes, many of whom are quite serious about competition. I have skated on freestyles with Olympians, national competitors, and high-ranking juniors from all disciplines. I am generally not comfortable in such intimidating company, mainly because I am not fast or agile enough to maintain the pace. I spend most of my time dodging incoming missiles and looking for an opening to squeeze in a spin or a humble jump. This is not my idea of productive practice or enjoyable recreation.
So, I went to the other new rink expecting the worst. This rink was built in a wealthy community and the heated area was predictably filled with little princesses and their doting parents. In fact, one young girl’s mother carried her daughter’s clear plastic purse, inside which a rhinestone tiara was clearly visible. When I got on the ice, I happily noticed these kids were primarily low level skaters. I could readily negotiate a path for myself through their activities. Unfortunately, midway through the session, the good skaters began to appear. They could do doubles and skated like powerful machines. They had small but athletic bodies, taut from a serious training regimen. These teenagers probably do not go to school. They seemed to skate above and beyond all else. One of them spoke Russian to her coach. I narrowly avoided a collision with a young lady engaged in a frantic, self-absorbed footwork sequence.
Such is the nature of ice skating. Ice skating is either wall-to-wall stiffs and hockey kids at public sessions or freestyle ice dominated by budding champions. Adult sessions are a rarity, at least they are for me. My husband encouraged me to try these sessions again at different times. I might find a better one. Or I might even learn to get out there and skate with the pack. This assumes I could overcome the fear that has plagued me for as long as I have participated in this sport. I have always hated being an inept adult speed bump on freestyle ice.
Now I have to ponder the question: “How badly do I really want to skate?” If I want to skate badly enough, I might try to put my anxiety aside and adapt. However, I am not strongly motivated to do this, especially when I am tired (and sometimes frustrated) from working all day. During the coming weeks, I will give this some thought.
Saturday February 28, 2004
Moonlighting
(or Kay Turns Pro)
A fellow adult skater mentioned that the rink is desperately seeking group instructors for a new round of classes. No one approached me about teaching, so I made a phone call to the skating director and left a message on her voice mail. The next day, the light on my answering machine blinked in response. She would talk to me Saturday before the freestyle session. I met the woman on Saturday morning and expressed my interest, never expecting to be asked to teach that day.
I was surprised by how casually she accepted me with no credentials or insurance. The rink would cover me until I could obtain my own liability insurance from a professional skating organization. Of course, this woman has seen me skate for months. She coaches on the freestyle session I attend regularly. I obviously know how to skate. Incidentally, I also know how to teach, though I have never taught sports. She even asked if I would be interested in teaching on weekday afternoons, and I told her I would consider it.
With this challenge awaiting at the end of my session, I had trouble enjoying myself. I was too busy worrying about my modest christening into the world of coaching. The director had given me a curriculum and student roster for the two thirty-minute groups I would instruct that day. I ran through the movements on the list and could have broken my neck with the clap hops. A seasoned coach told me she does not include those skills, and I am inclined to follow suit. Jumping upward and attempting to slam one’s boots together in the absence of rotation is foolhardy and pointless, in my opinion. When I evaluated the skill level of my students, I would have been insane and irresponsible to even suggest this trick. These kids need basics. They need to balance on one foot. The need to swizzle properly. They need to rent skates that fit. They do not need to clap their feet together in mid-air.
I enjoyed teaching my classes and felt completely exhausted afterward. However, reward came quickly. An appreciative parent approached me and complimented my teaching style. She claimed I have a good rapport with the children and am a better teacher than the last instructor who worked with her daughter.
My departure from the rink was a surreal experience. For the first time in my life, I earned money from skating. I arrived at the rink an amateur and left as a pro.
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