Figure Skating Journal, Reflections of an Adult Figure Skater

June 2004

Week of June 1, 2004
Social Promotion

I completed my last weekday class for the season and decided not to pass two students who could not perform the majority of skills on the list. Incidentally, these kids showed up two weeks late into a five week course. In the second-to-last class meeting, the teachers give out slips that inform the parents which class to register the child for next. Basically, this piece of paper indicates whether or not the child will continue on to the next level or if he needs to remain at the current level. These documents are handed directly to the children with literally no time between classes to talk to parents. At the end of the final class session, the instructors bestow achievement badges to those who have passed the class. When I began teaching skating, I was concerned about handing badges to some kids while others walked away with nothing. After all, these are young children. They may not be able to rationalize the need to repeat a skating course. To them, it might just feel like failure, similar to being held back a grade in school or being placed into a “special” class. Of course, this is not the intention, but children do not always understand the complexities of adult intentions.

The first group lesson I taught consisted of a mixed bag of kids, most of whom belonged at lower levels. When I mentioned this to Donna, the skating director, she said the problem was due to previous instructors passing children who had not acquired the skills to move on to the next stage. She encouraged me not to make the same mistake. In an effort to build a respectable skating school, Donna would like children to be placed in classes appropriate for their abilities. Every child learns at his or her own pace. And that pace can depend on tangible factors such as prior athletic experience and practice time to more nebulous qualities such as talent.

Unfortunately, the parent of one of the boys I retained called Donna to complain. Donna told me about this at the last class and asked me to simply give the kid the badge, which I did without argument. Supposedly, the parent was outraged that her child did not pass and said he would drop out of the skating program if he did not receive his prize the next week. She also accused me of making her son cry and humiliating him in front of the class. Thankfully, Donna did not believe any of this nonsense. I certainly did not say anything inappropriate to the student, nor did anyone shed a tear in my class. I merely handed out the forms. The kid asked why he had to enroll in this class again and claimed he was supposed to be in a higher class anyway. I calmly told him he needed a little more time to work on these skills. This child was not even a borderline case who might have been awarded the benefit of the doubt. The poor kid could not do anything! He should not have been in my class but belonged a level or two lower.

The present system of distributing re-enrollment forms and achievement badges invites controversy. In my humble, lightly-experienced opinion; I believe the method of informing families of their children’s progress needs to be revamped. It should not take place between instructor and child. The parent should pick up the form (and badge, if earned) from the front desk after the class has concluded, at which time the parent can register the student for the next session. Since Donna and her daughter-in-law are fulltime pros at the rink, they would be available to answer questions and provide the standard: “Better to be the best student in the basic class than the slowest child in a more advanced class”. Most people accept this cliché. Our foremost concern as skating instructors is to place pupils in classes suited to their needs. Social promotion should not exist in a skating program, though apparently it does.

Week of June 6, 2004
Skating on a Cloud

I burned another personal day this week and enjoyed a long morning skate. One other adult skater practiced with me, and we enjoyed some pleasant exchanges. We had met previously at another rink. Odd how adult skaters bump into each other in various rinks over the years. Other than the two of us, a couple of kids skated for about fifteen minutes. The old folks could teach these youngsters about stamina.

The weather has been relatively hot and humid lately. This newer rink has apparently not solved all of its environmental problems yet. I have come in many times to find the place as foggy as a San Francisco morning. One Saturday, it was actually raining inside the cold space. Droplets of water smacked me on the forehead while doing a layback. Later, during my group lessons, the kids asked about the fog in the rink. I gave them a mini science lesson about condensation of water vapor and cloud formation. My students and I were actually skating in a cloud (though skating on a cloud sounds considerably more romantic).

Fortunately, there was no precipitation during this visit. My hair quickly became soaked due primarily to humidity rather than perspiration. The ice felt soft, and if I did not keep moving, my skin got cold and clammy in spite of moisture-wicking polypropylene garments. Although I skated for over two-and-a-half hours, the visibility inside the arena never improved. Dressed in a white sweat suit, my friend almost disappeared as she rounded the back of the rink. We should have worn school bus yellow to avoid collisions.

I worked on the usual array of field moves, stroking exercises and dances for the first hour. After that, I did spins and jumps. I really enjoy the spring of my rocker-like three-turn flip jump. With virtually no competition for space, I skated aggressively into every element. Although I have been working on the double salchow lately, I chose not to practice it during this session. Somehow, I managed to cramp a muscle in my right leg, which is the salchow take-off leg for a clockwise skater. The pain might have been a reawakening of soreness from my double salchow foray last weekend. I landed several of the things but took at least twice as many falls. Enthusiastic about renewing this challenge, I inquired about private lessons from a veteran coach with whom I have developed a friendly relationship. We will probably get together a few times over the summer, assuming the crowds are accommodating.

So, what has been especially satisfying lately? I did some great flying camels. My back camels from an inside three are well-centered and fast. My favorite, most fearless jump is still the loop, although the bigger they get, the more obvious my desperate need for new boots. Huge loops require a very stiff boot to land without an annoying ankle twist. I forgot that and overdid it a little. My improved flips could not be more fun, and my quest for better extension in splits and stags continues. These skills will rank as top priorities when I start taking lessons again. Strange but true: my brackets are becoming good. I have been playing with brackets on one foot down the length of the rink. While not executing them at speed yet, I control each edge before the subsequent turn. This is an exciting piece of footwork that will enhance my repertoire. As much as I enjoy a glorious spin, I have found great pleasure in simply skating around the rink with as much power and flow as possible.

Saturday June 12, 2004
Blade Guards

The title of this entry should make the forthcoming story shamefully obvious. Before telling my woeful tale, allow me to preface it with the following conditions. I have had a lot on my mind lately, more than the typical background noise. I have been especially distracted the last couple of days. The situation is not earth-shattering, but two major decisions lay ahead. Going skating usually clears my mind. However, it did not have that effect immediately today.

While warming up with basic forward crossovers, I clicked my blades. While this did not result in a fall or even a near miss, it startled me. I decided to get off the ice and snag a hot beverage, free to employees. I grabbed the wrong cup and a manager came after me. I only rarely indulge in a complimentary cup of hot cocoa but decided it might sooth my nerves. The manager scolding me for taking the wrong cup was really embarrassing. Sometimes incidents like that make me feel very foolish, and I walk away even more disturbed than before. As I reentered the arena, the same manager had gone ahead to talk to a young instructor who was passing out our group lesson clipboards in the skating director’s absence. Still uncomfortable, I wanted to squeeze passed her as quickly as possible.

In an instant, I had fallen without warning to the ice, sloshing hot chocolate all over the frozen surface and managing to splash a few pathetic drops on my face. Oh, God! Humiliation of all humiliations! I had stepped on the ice wearing my blade guards. In at least twelve years of ice skating, I have never done that. I guess I had to get my pro card before making a complete jackass of myself. Fortunately, no students were in the rink yet. I would have really looked like an incompetent boob. Amazingly, I had managed the most mortifying wipeout of my skating life without releasing my cup of hot cocoa. The Styrofoam cup still firmly grasped in my hand, I sat on the ice for a horrifying second before realizing what had happened.

The young instructor and I scraped the frozen beverage off the surface. I balled up mocha snow and threw it in the garbage can. I told her I should go home before I seriously hurt myself. She confessed she had done the same thing before a competition. Twelve years was probably just too perfect a record, and I was cruising for a big disaster. Sadly, I really did want to just go home and hide. I have never been so embarrassed in an ice rink; not from axel falls, goofy programs, crappy test elements (although that is a close second), or all around shitty skating. I also wondered if I was simply too preoccupied to skate. I certainly did not try anything difficult. The double salchow was definitely out. Surprisingly, I completed an outrageous back camel-back sit-forward sit-headless scratch combination spin. My spins rarely abandon me. They provide a reliable source of comfort (and, in this case, self-esteem) when circumstances seem most discouraging.

Tuesday June 22, 2004
Fire Drill

The school district where I am employed released its prisoners this week, and I was fortunate to be among the paroled. Since schools close for the summer at different times throughout the area, I hoped for some decent skating at a morning public session. I drove to the rink and found the parking lot virtually empty. This was my lucky day! Or so it seemed. I paid the admission fee at the front counter and went to the restroom to change and stretch. I came out ready to hop on the ice. The manager told me to wait for the impending (late) ice cut. The Zamboni was nowhere in sight. It did not appear until ten minutes into the session and took its sweet time getting situated. Meanwhile, I continued to stretch in a valiant attempt to keep my muscles pliable.

As I waited, kids started to file into the building. A few would have been acceptable, but I became suspicious upon noticing a significant fraction of the population wore school sweatshirts. I clomped over to the counter on my blade guards and asked if this was a school group or birthday party. Yes, indeed. One hundred-twenty school children were expected for an end-of-the-year outing. I promptly asked for a refund and inquired about the schedule for the remainder of the week. It did not sound horrible, so I will try again another day.

Had the ice been ready on time, I could have enjoyed thirty to forty-five minutes of decent skating before the place became overrun. However, that time was squandered by inopportune ice maintenance. I might not have walked away completely satisfied, but I would not have been disgusted. Obviously, the rink management was concerned with having the ice ready for this group but not necessarily for the general public.

As I returned to my belongings to unlace my skates, the fire alarm sounded. It was the most unbearably shrill sound I have ever experienced. It forewarned of a migraine headache and accompanying nausea. I ripped my feet out of my boots and haphazardly threw them into their case. In auditory agony, I screamed into the vacuum of the noise. Not even the All Mighty could have heard my plea for mercy. I dashed for the door gritting my teeth and shaking my head to relieve the stress on my eardrums. A big dimwit pounded helplessly on a keypad next to the main entrance, but to no avail. I could hear the noise emanating from the structure as I bolted through the parking lot. Its echo continued to wreak havoc on my synapses as I drove away. Pleasant tunes from the CD player eventually purged the hellish shrieking from my mind.

Well, somebody has finally discovered a way to get me out of an ice arena in a hurry.

Wednesday June 23, 2004
Coefficient of Friction

Today, I stepped onto the ice at the appointed hour, the precise start time for the public session. I wanted to maximize my skating opportunities before a birthday group arrived. A thin coating of snow covered the surface of the rink. The ice beneath was smooth. Apparently, it had snowed inside the arena from continuing humidity problems. I skated around exploring the surface for irregularities. I found huge stalagmites where condensation had dripped in a freezing Chinese water torture over the poor rink. These mounds stood at least two inches high. An unsuspecting skater could easily break her neck if she inadvertently ran into one of those. I imagined myself landing a jump and catching an unfortunate edge on a pseudo geological feature. My plan to practice double salchows now seemed foolish.

I asked a man in the Zamboni garage for a shovel to remove the frozen piles. He said he would be cleaning the ice in a few minutes. I reminded him that the session had already begun. This situation mirrored the problems I faced yesterday. I gathered my water bottle and tissues and went to the front counter. When is this session supposed to start: now or a half-hour later? The manager assured me I had the correct schedule, and she did not know why the ice had not been prepared. She disappeared into the cold space to obtain an explanation. When she reemerged, she said they were having some problems and I could skate in about twenty minutes once the ice was cleared. Fine. The birthday party was not expected for over an hour.

As soon as I reentered the lobby after a bathroom break, the manager told me the ice was ready. The Zamboni man must be a former race car driver. That was certainly a world record ice cut. I pulled the door to the ice pad open and looked at the slop job that he had done on the snowy rink. The Zamboni artist had carved a path around the rink designed to scrape away the condensation heaps and absolutely nothing else. He cut a big serpentine through the place and knocked the behemoth back into its garage. The public skaters were left with a smooth road winding through an expanse of frost. I followed the road around the rink, as did a group of young boys. This seemed fun for the children. I wanted skip along behind them and start singing: “Follow the Yellow Brick Road”. Another adult skater appeared who was justifiably angry. She left the ice to complain.

I tried stroking around the arena as though nothing were askew. However, as my blades transitioned from the smooth sections to the snow covered zones, friction slowed my motion. I pitched forward as the snow grabbed my blades. Any texture on the ice produces friction. According to the laws of physics, friction eventually stops all objects set in motion (unless the moving object is traveling though the vacuum of outer space). Unexpectedly hitting a snowy area could cause a skater to fall forward or backward depending on the direction of movement. This would be due to a sudden change in the coefficient of friction of the skating surface. In general terms, the coefficient of friction quantifies how much friction is present in a surface. It ranges from zero (no friction) to one (a lot of friction). Very smooth, clean ice has a low coefficient of friction. Sprinkling anything on the ice, even a light dusting of snow, increases the coefficient of friction. A classic physics problem involves a steel block sliding on ice. For first year physics students, this situation represents negligible friction. And what does this scenario remind you, the adult skater, of? That’s right, an ice skating blade on a freshly Zambonied rink.

So, someone in a position of authority took the other skater’s complaint seriously, and we were pulled off the ice again. A few minutes later, the lazy Zamboni driver cleaned the ice properly, something he should have done in the first place before the session began. At least, I wound up with an hour to skate and a free pass for my inconvenience.

Thursday June 24, 2004
Two Beautiful Hours

Finally a day of good skating! The ice was ready on time and no one else was around. The morons who maintain the rink left two hockey nets right in front of the entrance to the ice surface. I could open the door enough to get by without having to ask someone to help me move the obstacles. Of course, I could squeeze through a keyhole if there were ice on the other side.

I skated alone for a half hour before another adult skater arrived. Thirty minutes later, a mother with two young children joined us. One of the kids had been my student for group lessons. He was tickled to see me out of context practicing on my own, and I was having a rather good day. I spent a full hour on footwork, moves, and dances. When the ice is not crowded, I can really pick up speed in back crossovers and skate at an impressive pace. I did not work on anything to speak of, though I thought about trying a double salchow but was not committed to the idea. Fooling around enjoying the openness of the arena pleased me much more than struggling with a jump. This was a day to play and have fun; not to work.

The rocker-like entrance into the flip jump has improved my jump significantly. I approach with more speed, make a straighter turn, and get a more effective vault. This gives increased height as well as lateral distance. I have experimented with applying this preparation to the salchow but find it awkward, perhaps irreconcilably awkward. The backward inside edge seems too flat to initiate a salchow. It almost disallows bringing the free leg through. My lutz has also improved due to the short backward cross step entrance that I have been practicing. This entrance is commonly used by elite skaters as an alternative to the traditional long backward outside edge into the corner. It supposedly reduces flutzing, which I find to be true, at least in my case. Combining this preparation with a snap of the skating arm into rotation yields a quick turning action.

What a great time I had today! I skated for two beautiful hours. Maybe I will be lucky enough to have another good session tomorrow.

Friday June 25, 2004
Walley World

I will be on vacation next week but am leaving readers with plenty of adventures from this week. In the five-year history of my figure skating journal, I have never written four daily entries in a row. Regular practice is such a novelty these days, I want to share every adventure.

The rink was ready on time again and no one shared the ice with me for at least thirty minutes when a couple of wall-hugging girls entered the space. A few more people appeared before my two hours expired, but it never got crazy or crowded. As usual, I spent an hour on moves and dances. This was my routine when I could skate long sessions on a regular basis. Now, I rarely have time for such a diligent luxury. However, conscientious work is the only thing that improves basic skating for me (with the bizarre exception of those extraordinary skills that seem to evolve in the complete absence of practice).

During this session, I consciously worked elements other than basic skating skills. Items on my list for special attention included the following:

A previous coach tried to teach me a walley jump a few years ago. Obviously, I had little success and abandoned the mission. Watching an instructor perform a series of two walleys then teach the movement to a high school girl who is not a very accomplished skater, reawakened my interest. I devised a walley training drill to help me jump off an inside edge. The walley jump is the more difficult cousin of the loop. Where the loop takes-off and lands on the same backward outside edge, the walley lifts from a back inside and lands on the backward outside edge of the same foot. Walleys are often approached from backward pulls (one-foot slalom). My drill consisted of a two-foot version of the entire process: backward two-foot slalom, jumping off the backward inside edge with both feet, and landing the jump on two feet. This allowed me to experience the sensation of the jump in a safe context. It also forced me to recognize the very natural tendency to transition to an outside edge, therefore performing a loop jump instead of a walley. I was guilty of many loops, but did manage a few genuine two-footed walleys.

My next step involved a two-footed take-off and a proper one-foot landing. Many of these attempts resulted in loop jumps. However, I did land a walley. Next time I skate, I will try the actual walley from one-foot power pulls. This little training exercise seems to work well, and a walley would certainly be a nice thing to have!

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