May 2001
May 1 - 4, 2001
One Perfect Moment
This was a reasonably good skating week. Other than trying the axel for the first time in months and realizing I had forgotten how to do the thing, I skated well. We spent a little too much lesson time on those depressing backward inside three-turns, but unfortunately they continue to require attention. One day was particularly productive. I landed big single jumps, probably a personal best on the flip. In spite of persistent falls that have begun to wear the pigment off the sides of my new boots, I have managed to keep my commitment to the
My good skating day also included brilliant flying camels in which my free leg whipped into fast rotation, easily permitting the senior competitive standard of eight revolutions. The layover backward camel is amazing, my stars are swift, and my butterflies are growing bigger wings.
All of this positive energy led to a magical moment in which I skated better than ever. I completed the most difficult spin combination of my life with championship caliber speed and energy. Being able to spin like this is a great gift. I have worked for years to improve my spins, but their essence is a natural ability, one for which I am infinitely thankful. Although I often complain about my sad axel or precarious double salchow, I feel truly blessed to be able to spin as though I have skated since childhood. As a mature skater, I dwell more on my strengths than my weaknesses and my abilities more than my apparent limitations.
The landmark combination contained the following sequence of elements:
- forward attitude
- change back camel
- change forward camel
- change back sit spin
- change forward sit spin
- layback
A spin consisting of four changes of foot might be perceived as a sloppy traveling circus of forced positions; but this combination was fast, smooth and stationary. Each transition melted into the next spin. The combination was so wondrous, I had to stand by the boards for an overwhelming moment to recollect the magnitude of what I had just achieved. I wanted to linger in that instant forever. It was the single most incredible skating experience I have had; a perfect moment on ice when my love of skating controlled my actions and the outcome was extraordinary. Why can’t I command my blades and body with that precision and accuracy every time I step on the ice?
Week of May 7, 2001
Flipping for Splits
After watching an adult skater complete a beautiful split jump followed by a single flip, I made a mental note to ask Geoff to work with me on the split jump. Her split is a thing of beauty. Though it only extends to a ninety-degree angle, she gets attractive spring and seems to pause in the air for a measurable instant. This woman skated competitively as a child, and possesses several advanced skills that she performs effortlessly as though her body has always known how to do them.
For more than a year, I have practiced stag leaps from a lutz entrance. I easily lift my knee into a high stag pose and push off with the toe pick, kicking my trailing leg. The stag is an asymmetrical position, and if the trailing leg does not rise to a full split, the effect is not lost. However, for a successful split jump, the legs must be equidistant from the ice to achieve a balanced appearance. I have also dabbled with Russian splits achieving little success.
During my lesson, I approached the traditional split jump from a flip-like mohawk entrance. The half-flip was never a favorite of mine, and it actually received comments for its poor quality on my
Although I am fairly limber, a split jump requires more than the simple ability to do the splits on the floor. A floor split cooperates with gravity by pressing downward. However, for a split jump, the skater must kick her legs upward, opposing the force of gravity, which requires strength in addition to flexibility. Fast skating combined with a high jump, allow airtime to stretch into the desired posture and land gracefully. The skater only has a fraction of a second to split and retract her legs before touching down, requiring excelling timing and precise body control. This is not easy, but for now, I prefer it to axels and maybe even double salchows, though those have not been especially discouraging lately. During a split jump, I never get lost in the air and can always see where I am going. This is not the case during multi-rotational jumps. During an axel or double salchow, I lose my directional frame of reference, hitting the ice haphazardly, falling more often than not. The split also does not have to start with full extension. It can grow with the skater’s ability and comfort level.
Geoff suggested trying a flip jump after the split, which muscle memory strictly forbid. After every stag leap, I always step directly off the right forward landing toe into a left forward inside three-turn. This occurred automatically after each split jump, permitting a clumsy toe loop, but no flip. Geoff stood by the barrier, smiling with amusement and finally laughing at my obvious frustration. Instead of doing an inside three-turn, I must substitute a mohawk to initiate the flip jump. I never do flips from a mohawk nor do I tack mohawk turns onto the end of my stag leaps. After a few hilarious attempts, I trained myself to accept these new movements and popped into a flip jump. Now I have two new items to squeeze into my busy practice sessions: the split jump and the split-flip sequence.
Week of May 7, 2001; Part Two
All Alone
I had the extreme pleasure of skating completely by myself for a full two-hour session. This has never happened to me before. Yes, I have skated alone for fifteen or twenty minutes at the beginning of a session before latecomers arrive or at the end after everyone poops out and leaves. A few years ago, I even skated for extended periods of time alone in a small rink, but to find a full-size arena at my disposal is the stuff of dreams.
When other people are on the ice, the rink seems smaller, probably because the allotment of space per athlete can be calculated accordingly. Skating with others requires courtesy and awareness of one’s surroundings. While these skills are readily achieved, not having to contend with them offers an entirely new perspective. I never had to look over my shoulder before jumping, though I do this out of habit when shooting into the left-handed lutz corner. Jump abortion resulted from my own errors rather than the need to yield to a program skater, someone on lesson, or a person simply lingering in the desired zone. When my own mistakes are the sole reason for interruption, the frequency of those mistakes becomes apparent. Fewer actually occurred than might be expected. I often choke because I catch a potential hazard in my peripheral vision and panic, whether that individual blocks my path or not. This safety mechanism testifies to my inexperience on crowded sessions where seasoned athletes jump within inches of each other.
While the inconvenience of human obstacles did not inhibit my performance, I was faced with the challenge of filling all of that empty white space, another feat that was less difficult than I remember from those few experiences on a studio sized rink years ago. Since then, I have grown as a skater, increasing speed and mobility on the ice. I attribute this primarily to moves in the field but also to hours of practice. What a pleasure to ride a change edge spiral through the arena without testing my arabesque steering skills! And what an amazing joy to cut across the rink in a backward spiral knowing I would not blade impale someone! I felt free as a dolphin frolicking in the limitless expanse of the open sea.
Unable to pause for a few minutes of conversation with a skating friend, I worked straight through the two hours, stopping only to blow my nose or sip water. I sweated profusely and left the session exhausted but completely satisfied. I generally enjoy skating with other people, particularly other adults. I find the camaraderie of the sport very enjoyable and have made many friends at rinks, but a day alone on the ice was an unexpected treat.
The grouchy old maintenance man, who seems to have a particular dislike for adult skaters, grunted nastily at me to clear the ice when my time had expired. He openly despises resurfacing the rink for a small group of adults, though that is part of his job, and he does not work as a volunteer. Having to clean it just for me must have ripped him a new orifice. I was amazed by how thoroughly I tore up a huge sheet of hockey ice with no help from anyone.
Week of May 14, 2001
Spring Roller Fever
The weather has been good and the ice at one of my usual skating hangouts has been bad, so I began roller skating before the official end of the season. I had not planned to start quad skating again until the summer schedule caused a reduction in quality ice time. This week (and last) I drove to the park to roller skate on the jogging trail. Distance roller skating provides an excellent cardiovascular workout without the high impact of jogging. It took a few minutes to reacquaint myself with the arrangement of four wheels on each foot and associated center of balance. I tentatively stepped away from the bench and onto the path, revealing no evidence of my ice skating prowess.
Quad skates offer a large contact area with the skating surface, which makes balancing easy for a beginner. When I was a child, everyone had quad skates and even the clumsiest kid could propel himself down the sidewalk in a pair of vinyl boot or metal clamp-on roller skates. To my knowledge, inline skates had not been invented yet, and certainly were not available for purchase. Disco skating became the flavor of the time as I reached middle school. Like many of my friends, I owned a pair of tennis shoe roller skates with fat polyurethane wheels and found them very accommodating to creative movement. Although my current pair of quads is of far better quality than any roller skates I wore during childhood, they seem to lack maneuverability. I am used to the simplicity of edged turns on ice blades and find stomping around four big wheels ungainly. While I can stroke effectively in quads, I struggle to turn and dread stopping. In response to a fear of asphalt, I wear protective gear, but try not to rely on it by trying anything stupid. I reserve foolish experimentation for the ice, where a fall will not tear the skin off my carcass. Gliding cautiously to a stop at the bench where I left my shoes, I allowed inertia to slow me, rather than dragging the toe stop. A simple t-stop on asphalt terrifies me. Of course, I did not harbor these fears twenty years ago. I am spoiled by ice skating, a luxury that was almost entirely absent from my youth.
I had not roller skated since last August. In early September, I returned wholeheartedly to regular season ice sessions and stashed my quads in the basement, forgetting how much I enjoy roller skating. The sound of wheels traversing pavement is relaxing and hypnotic. Taking long powerful strides like a speed skater, I skated about five miles on the trail. A runner’s high sets in after a few rounds, and I could keep my pace indefinitely. As a little girl, the sight of someone gliding on wheels or ice evoked a sense of wonder. In some respects, I have changed very little in the last thirty years.
Week of May 21, 2001
Figure Skating Darwinism
Two teenage girls joined our session this week, a session usually attended exclusively by adults, though it is not designated as “adults only”. These girls ordinarily skate at another rink, which is closed this week for maintenance. Though neither of them is a budding champion, they moved in like conquerors, yielding to no one and commandeering the cassette player.
These girls stepped on the ice, skated one or two laps before ejecting my cassette in favor of one of their own. When I realized the older girl planned to practice her routine, I was surprised that she chose to do this without a warm up, but when you are only sixteen, the body may remain in a perpetual state of athletic readiness. After her piece concluded, she did not replace my tape but substituted a blaring selection of modern dance music. While I did not necessarily find the songs themselves unpalatable, I objected to the girls’ complete disregard for the other people in that rink. My tape had played for less than five minutes before they ousted it. When I go to a strange rink, I feel like an interloper and never take liberties with the stereo system. Of course, they had the right to rehearse their programs and to play their background music. However, those rights should not supercede similar rights of others. Had my tape been allowed to run for some decent period of time, maybe fifteen minutes, I would not have thought twice about someone else taking a turn.
This is not the first time a teenager has entered the arena and skated directly to the boom box. What are these kids thinking? “Screw everyone. I want my tape and my needs are more important than anyone else’s.” I wonder if these children have never had to share with other people or interact in social situations. Do their parents teach them that the world revolves around them and no one else matters? Where do young skaters learn this behavior? I have witnessed selfish conduct recently from a coach and wonder if some coaches are partially responsible for breeding self-absorbed rink rats. Self-centeredness may be a common attribute of many young people whether they skate or not. In fact, I doubt it is a rare quality in the general population.
While parents and coaches may deserve some of the blame for the poor rink manners displayed by young people, I propose an alternate hypothesis, an adaptation of the familiar “survival of the fittest” theory. These egocentric girls may be used to practicing during crowded, highly competitive sessions. While skating is considered a gentile sport with etiquette governing freestyle right-of-way, competition for a patch of ice to perform a jump can be cutthroat. The most experienced skaters jump within inches of each other, and have probably survived through years of playing chicken with their peers. Those who do not back down get to execute their jumps or spins, while the more docile skaters cower in the corners. Therefore, the pushy skater has an opportunity to improve and move on to higher levels in the sport, suggesting the existence of
Personally, I am tired of being bullied into a corner and tolerating selfish rink behavior. I allowed the girl a fair amount of time to hear her music, based on the number of people in the rink sharing the facilities, and took my turn accordingly.
* By proposing the concept of "Figure Skating Darwinism", I am in no way implying that every talented (or successful) skater is a ruthless individual. I actually think it most accurately would be applied to local yokels vying for the title of "Biggest Fish in this Small Frozen Pool". This theory is merely food for thought.
Week of May 21, 2001; Part Two
The Hardest Forward Spin Combination on Earth
I have worked on difficult spin combinations before. In my opinion, the most challeging of all is a backward camel to forward camel. To my knowledge, backward to forward combinations are not specifically required for any USFSA test, though including them would be acceptable in certain cases. These combinations are considered more difficult than the basic forward to backward variants executed by most intermediate skaters in their local rinks. Forward camel-change-backward camel and forward sit-change-backward sit are the first change of foot combinations learned by developing skaters and neither is insurmountably difficult.
The most troublesome combination on one foot, based on my experience, is the backward sit to backward camel. Theoretically, speed can be gained by whipping the free leg into the camel position; but this is not readily achieved in practice. In spite of its difficulty, this combination occurs frequently in elite combination. Female skaters commonly ascend from a back sit into a backward catch-foot camel.
If I had to select the hardest forward spin combination, it would have to be the one I learned this week, the layback-forward sit spin. While the layback-change-backward sit spin is a prevalent skill among advanced spinners, completing both spins without changing feet increases the complexity exponentially. I have never seen the layback-sit performed locally and cannot recall a solitary televised performance of this element. In the years preceding the trend toward triples and quads, some skaters may have choreographed it and other unusual pirouettes into their programs; but it is rare, if not extinct, today. For this reason, the layback-sit may actually be more complex than the back sit-back camel.
Similar to the forward camel-forward sit spin, speed must be created by passing the free leg in a wide arc from the layback position while concurrently descending into a seated posture. The camel-sit one of the easiest spin combinations on one foot and often the first combination learned by developing skaters. The simplicity of this combination originates from the ease with which the body rises from the camel; and the free leg, already held straight behind the body, can swing into position. However, in a layback, the leg is curved and not extended directly behind. Several obstacles must be overcome when attempting a sit spin immediately following a layback. The skater must rise from a backbend, straighten her leg, and create speed from a shorter arc. This sequence of movements is less natural and fluid than those required for a camel-sit. Who would think joining two fundamental spins would result in such a challenge? It sounds easy, but the transition connecting those obvious positions is highly complex requiring perfect timing, coordination and rigor. I anticipate working on this novel combination all summer before achieving a truly powerful, attractive sit spin.
Week of May 28, 2001
Chicken Louise
My husband and I spent Memorial Day week at our lake house. I brought my ice skates, though there was little actual chance of skating with the nearest rink over an hour and a half away. I considered bringing my quads, but the road there is so rough and riddled with pot holes, roller skating becomes a defensive exercise and is considerably more dangerous than trying an axel or a double salchow on smooth butt-friendly ice.
So I walked. I am not much of a jogger and my jump weary knees do not need extraneous impact from an activity that gives me far less pleasure than ice skating. I walked often, whenever it stopped raining. My husband does not mind light drizzle, especially if the fish are biting. And he puttered around in the garage preparing the motor boat for summer outings. When I wasn’t walking, I sewed. I constructed three beautiful new wraparound skating skirts. Although I skate in cold rinks, tying a skirt around my fleece leggings makes me feel graceful in spite of otherwise bulky clothing.
Vacation is the enemy of most athletes, especially those of us who gain weight by simply smelling rich foods. My husband and I try to watch our diets when eating away from the safety of my low-fat kitchen. We consume salads and lean meat. We ask for fish broiled without butter. I cannot recall the last time I spread butter on a slice of bread. However, I ordered a special at one of our favorite restaurants that was sinfully beyond the parameters of my usual diet: shrimp with a vodka cream sauce. I rarely consume such things, unless I have adapted the recipe myself with fat-free and reduced fat substitutions. Necessity has made me a master of the low calorie culinary arts. I paid for that delicious dish later with an extra walk and mega-doses of prunes and hot tea.
The last time we imbibed at that restaurant, I ordered Chicken Louise, an equally luscious dinner that I plan to adjust to my nutritional preferences. Grilled chicken and fresh mushrooms swimming in a sherry and heavy cream sauce over cheese tortellini. Deep-six the tortellini in favor of plain spaghetti, make a sauce with skim evaporated milk, and forget the butter. Naysayers would be surprised by how closely the flavor and texture of my healthy versions of Fettuccini Alfredo and Pad Thai resemble the artery-hardening varieties available in many fine pig-out palaces. I felt so guilty eating the chicken louise that I took a few bites and asked the waitress to pack it to go. When I microwaved the delicacy later, its plate brimmed with grease; either molten butter, margarine or oil. I mopped the dish with a paper towel, tasted a morsel of stuffed pasta and declared the food inedible. My husband polished it off.
Fortunately, my fat ass will be back on the ice next week.
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