May 2000
Week of May 1, 2000
Cold, Damp and Sore
Wet chilly weather created miserable conditions in the unheated rink. A cloud of mist hovered over the ice, and condensation covered the Plexiglas barriers reminding me of fogged windows in a school bus on a cold rainy day. If I were twenty years younger, I would have drawn a smiley face on the glass or a heart encircling the initials of my latest crush.
My body refused to warm up with my usual set of exercises. Admittedly, my muscles already ached from the previous night’s ballet class. After rigorous barre stretches, the instructor asked us to attempt the splits, something I have not done in years. Surprisingly, my leg slid easily in the leather slippers on the wooden floor ultimately reaching full extension to the astonishment of the other women in the class. I repeated the feat on the other leg with less ease. My left leg has been injured numerous times due to over-zealous spirals, illusions and failed flying camels. In spite of regular stretching, I doubt I will ever achieve a facile left-legged split. Fortunately, if I ever do a traditional split jump, as a clockwise skater, my right leg will lead.
I paid for that split during the damp freestyle session. Had I either not done the split the night before or if the rink were more comfortable, my discomfort would have been minimal. Combining the two factors resulted in disaster. I could not do anything. My legs throbbed during crossovers. To make the situation even less tolerable, the bitter cold caused my nose to run mercilessly. Congestion filled my sinuses and bubbled in my ears with every spin. I spent the bulk of the session doing three turns on a hockey line and reprised my waltz-eight practice, a skill I neglected since passing USFSA Pre-Preliminary Moves in the Field last December. Usually, I do not glance longingly at the clock while skating. I always want more ice time and sneak a few extra minutes before the Zamboni cleans the ice. In considerable pain and unable to shake the chill, I anxiously awaited the end of the session; although leaving early never occurred to me. No matter how stiff I feel, there is always a low impact skill that requires attention.
After commuting home in a warm car; I swallowed a couple of ibuprofen, took a hot shower and ate a satisfying meal. Fortunately, the rink climate changed and faithful stretching soothed my legs. I salvaged the rest of the week and returned to my usual performance level.
Week of May 8, 2000
No Apparent Reason
During my lesson, I could not do a flip jump. I have done flips for years and they are usually strong jumps. Whenever I feel uncomfortable approaching a flip, I turn backward and salvage the trip around the rink by landing a reliable loop instead. However, I avoid substituting jumps for my coach. After the first aborted attempt, I missed every flip. Had I warmed up with a loop, I might have maintained flow and confidence, completing a flip on the next pass. However, my body felt confused preparing for each flip as though I had completely forgotten how to do the jump. To prove that I could still do one, I took the jump slowly after only a few strokes.
I blamed the mental block on soreness, fatigue, nervousness caused by aggressive skater whipping around the rink, and the bird droppings on the ice. A bird got into the building and flew the length of the rink doing its job on the pristine surface before finally resting in the rafters. I would rather break my leg trying a double jump than tripping in bird droppings. Actually, there are days when I do not perform well and can formulate no apparent reason for it. On this occasion, fear of catching an edge in bird poop provided an amusing excuse for my miserable skating.
Of course, I could not land an axel either; although, they were halfway decent the day before. I fell on my aching backside after every jump. Losing an axel does not surprise me because the jump has never been consistent or admirable. Last week, I had trouble spinning. Since spins are my strength, when I cannot center a decent spin, I automatically become paranoid that I am getting too old to keep up this level of skating. Geoff evaluated the situation, sharpened my blades, and the problem disappeared. After botching numerous flips and axels, we worked on spins. Fortunately, they had not abandoned me. When all else fails, I spin. When I can’t even spin,
My jumps stunk, my moves in the field were slow and awkward, but I could still do a good flying camel. We experimented with a deep backward sit spin and a couple of backspin variations. I ended the session with a centered layback and left the ice disappointed but not devastated.
Week of May 8, 2000; Part Two
Rink Family
For those of us who do not skate with a partner or team, skating is basically a solitary sport. However, I have met many wonderful people at the ice arenas where I have skated over the years. Since I practice regularly at one rink, I know all of the adult skaters who frequent my usual session. When a new person joins the group, I happily introduce myself and welcome the newcomer. Sadly, a skater occasionally has to leave. This week a woman who has become a friend of mine is moving away from the area and leaving our rink family. Her husband retired and they decided to buy a house in the country. Fortunately, there is a rink near her new home where she can continue to pursue her interest in skating, and she will not be moving so far away that we will never be able to visit. I plan to drive to her new rink during the summer. However, I will miss seeing her car in the parking lot and our pleasant conversations while lacing our skates.
My friend returned to skating after raising her children to adulthood and winning her battle with cancer. She skated recreationally as a young lady and vowed to return to the sport someday. Considering all of the dazzling professional, elite skaters and impressive youngsters who can do triples; I find Janice more inspirational. All adults face certain challenges when they decide to learn to figure skate. My struggle with graduate school, a career and a fully mature body pale in comparison. Janice truly loves to skate. She does not try to compete with anyone or aspire to passing gold dance tests. “I am merely doing the best I can with what I have left,” she has told me lightheartedly. Her positive attitude has been a delight to everyone at our rink.
While many adult skaters and non-skating folk gawk at fourteen-year-old skating prodigies, but I must limit my fascination with them. While I respect their dedication, their parents have bestowed an opportunity upon them by investing time and financial resources in the skating dream. Without family commitment, even some of the most talented children may not be skating. Although most adult skaters may not land big jumps, they are often extraordinary people. They overcome adversity to skate because they enjoy it. Often no one encourages them or bankrolls their hobby. Most adults have no hope of a spot on television or turning professional and earning a living in their beloved sport. People like Janice skate because it makes them happy and adds quality to their lives.
I encourage adult skaters to get to know the other people in their rink family. You may find yourself motivated and inspired. You might make a wonderful friend.
Saturday, May 13, 2000
Visit to a Roller Rink
One of my husband’s coworkers explained that his children play roller hockey at a rink that also supports an artistic skating club. I fooled around with artistic roller skating a little as a teenager. Nothing serious. No lessons or competitions; I simply tried to spin and jump on wheels similar to the competitive ice skaters on television. The opportunity to watch artistic roller skaters practicing intrigued me, so we drove to that rink on Saturday morning.
We arrived to find the floor vacant and the lights dimmed. The manager stood outside smoking a cigarette. I asked him about artistic sessions and lessons. I would love to try roller skating again in an official capacity with a coach. He produced a folded information sheet that listed the schedule. Although there were no designated artistic sessions, the rink did offer live organ music one night per week when the adults roller danced. The timetable included several public sessions during which birthday parties could be arranged, hours reserved for private events, speed skating, and an adult night featuring a very inexpensive group lesson. He explained that most of the club skaters danced rather than skated singles freestyle.
The cheap group lesson interested me. Maybe my husband and I will try it one evening. For years, I have paid for expensive ice time and private lessons. My lessons with Geoff have been worth every penny. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for the previous coach who cashed my checks. Figure skating is an expensive sport. This may be partially due to its current popularity, but maintaining the ice also costs dearly. While kids will always spend afternoons and date nights at roller rinks, artistic roller skating does not seem to be a popular sport in the United States. I have never seen it on television; although, I knew a girl in high school who took artistic lessons. American skaters do participate in roller skating world championship competitions. In fact, the current women’s world champion is from the United States. However, artistic skating probably enjoys greater prevalence in other countries.
My husband and I leaned on the barrier contemplating the empty wooden floor. It beckoned to me, even though I have barely roller skated since high school. The wooden planks shined in the middle of the expanse, but thousands of kids on wheels wore the finish almost completely off the perimeter. I pitied the surface that begged for someone to spin and jump on it. Too bad it wasn’t frozen.
Week of May 15, 2000
Bad Ice
I got to the rink only to find that they were having technical difficulties with the Zamboni. Hockey games the previous night completely decimated the ice where I usually skate, so the adults had to skate on the rink where the competitors train. That ice, which is ordinarily soft, was not in good condition either. Of course, the management invests in heating this arena for the benefit of the competitors and coaches, which could explain the ice’s softness. Fortunately, only one teenage boy skated with us.
Gouges and bumps made the spongy ice even less accommodating. Obviously it needed a Zamboni treatment as well. My sharp blades cut the surface sinking into what felt like quicksand. I am used to hard, fast hockey ice. With every spin, my blades drilled holes and skittered over tracings from the previous revolutions producing an uncomfortable ride that tested the resilience of my knees. Following the example of the teenager, I decided to jump instead. The miserable rutted ice did not discourage the boy from landing several impressive double jumps. Either he is used to bad ice, or skates so competently that the quality of the ice barely effects his performance.
I felt sorry for him when he had to take a lesson with his high-priced coach on that dreadful surface. Personally, I would have postponed my lesson. However, the kid squeezed out a couple of triples as the coach stood by the barrier in street shoes calling out comments that seemed unworthy of his hourly rate such as “Push!” and “That’s better!”. Even if I could afford to pay this man, this type of input would not benefit me. Maybe once a skater gets passed a certain level, demonstration is no longer necessary and simple verbal cues become valuable.
Working on moves in the field became frustrating because old blade crevices caught my edges trapping me like a slot car in someone else’s path. Struggling not to trip taxed my muscles and joints beyond what is ordinarily necessary. With all options exhausted, I literally had to spend almost the entire session jumping. After the
Since this facility holds summer sessions in the “soft ice” arena, I questioned whether I want to pay their astronomical hourly fee to skate on that strange ice dodging fearless little low freestylers. Last year, I did not particularly enjoy it. I will probably have to search for something better that will unfortunately be a less convenient commute. Although I love to skate, the idea of sinking into that mush for two months makes taking a break another reasonable option.
Week of May 22, 2000
Fat Ass Jamboree
Never a fat person, during my college and graduate school years I was actually quite slim. If I gained a few pounds, youth made them easy to lose. A few years ago, I earned a living by essentially sitting in a cubicle, and put on a significant amount of weight due to boredom and inactivity. After quitting that job, I spent more time exercising and watched my diet closely. I lost over half of the offensive weight but reached a plateau and could drop no more regardless of how hard I tried. Still not fat by any stretch of the imagination, I believe reducing another twenty pounds would result in an ideal weight, attractive appearance, and improved build for skating. However, my height and bone structure preclude me from ever being a featherweight skater, so I can forget about skating pairs.
Undoubtedly, excess body mass contributes to the knee pain I experience landing skating jumps. If I were not determined to skate for the rest of my life, I might have resigned myself to spiraling out of control toward old age and obesity. Tired of reminiscing about the bygone days of youthful beauty when I skated without pain, I went to a doctor hoping he would prescribe a diet pill. Instead, he took a blood sample to evaluate my thyroid. This week I returned to his office for the results of the blood test and hopefully a prescription for a miracle drug.
“You have a slow thyroid,” the physician explained.
Panic began to scream in my mind. Am I destined to be overweight for the rest of my life? I cannot lose twenty pounds and look captivating again? Maybe I will have to give up the axel if I get any heavier…
“Actually this is good news,” the doctor continued.
The voices in my head quieted to hear this “good news”.
“Most patients have no medical reason for their inability to lose weight. They have to start a rigorous exercise program and a very restricted diet to see results. However, you already exercise and eat right. Your slow thyroid causes your body to retain calories in the form of fat. It also will make you feel tired. Since your body lacks energy, it builds fat reserves. You have been fighting an uphill battle. If you gave in to the fatigue caused by your thyroid, you would be seriously overweight by now.”* He puffed his cheeks, held his arms out to the sides and lumbered across the examination room implying my ass would be two axe handles wide. Disgusted by the possibility, I snickered at his grotesque pantomime.
“So I don’t need a diet pill?” I asked still somewhat bewildered.
“No. Your thyroid is the reason why you can’t lose weight.” He began to scribble on a small piece of paper. “Take this medication and the weight should come off once your thyroid is functioning normally.”* The doctor handed me the little slip of blue paper with mysterious runes scrolled across it. “I want to see you again in six weeks.”
My family has a history of thyroid problems, so this diagnosis did not surprise me, though I never would have formulated it on my own. I thanked the doctor happily and began to imagine life with a healthy thyroid. I would feel less tired and lethargic. I might have more energy on the ice to pour into my program. Losing weight could result in higher jumps and better luck with the axel and doubles. As a side benefit, I long to wear a skating dress without looking like an elephant in a tutu.
I dropped the prescription in my purse and jubilantly took it to the pharmacy.**
* This is a paraphrased version of the explanation given by my doctor. If you think you might have a weight problem,
consult your physician.
** I plan to revisit this topic in a couple of months. Stay tuned!
Week of May 22, 2000; Part Two
New Program
My first program never felt comfortable. I blame this almost entirely on the fast music, which seems too fast for my present ability level. It forces me to play catch-up rather than concentrating on performing each element, holding positions and interpreting the music. My coach agreed to choreograph a new program for me; although, he still wants me to work on the other one, something I do only when motivated by guilt.
Geoff prepared a rough-cut of a lovely instrumental piece from my favorite skating movie, Ice Castles. He handed me the tape and asked that I listen to it before my lesson. I stroked around the rink while the flowing melody filled the arena encouraging me to stretch into extensions, spins and jumps. I immediately felt more at ease with this music. A swell near the beginning called for a flying camel. Geoff agreed. He watched me perform an inside Ina Bauer, the whole time complaining that I cannot do one straight down the ice. “Step out of the Ina Bauer directly into a flying camel,” he suggested as the idea entered his mind.
I completed the movement readily. The flying camel is probably my best skating skill. I execute them on command from any entrance like a dog performing a trick for a biscuit. I used to think my layback was terrific, but it has been surpassed.
“That’s good. I like that combination,” Geoff stated. He walked through the flying camel exiting the spin into a series of confusing edge work. I watched in dismay. My coach explained that these moves are called “loops” from compulsory figures. After gliding out of the back camel on my left foot (I am a clockwise skater), I must push to a RBO* edge then change to a RBI in an exaggerated backward pull. The loop is completed from that backward inside edge. Following the loop, I step forward onto a LFO and complete a LFO3 turn. Another loop results from that LBI edge.
Geoff demonstrated the loops in slow motion pointing out proper free leg and upper body positions. The dramatic change of edge from RBO to RBI provided a greater challenge than the loops, which I learned quickly. While playing with this footwork the next day, I discovered that I could do the entire sequence much better on the opposite legs. My change of edge is excellent on the left foot, which does not surprise me. I struggled to mirror the movements on the right leg. By the end of the session, I could do the edges and loops correctly, though not particularly fast. Since these little turns are tremendously fun, I practiced them diligently tacking them onto jump landings and spin exits.
We have only planned about a third of this new routine. However, it will include a few of my favorite elements: flying camel, spirals, loop jump, layback and butterfly. Maybe we can even fit in a stag leap somewhere.
* RBO = right backward outside
RBI = right backward inside
LFO = left forward outside
LFO3 = left forward outside three turn
LBI = left backward inside
For more definitions visit the Glossary.
June 2000
Memorial Day Weekend - First Week of June, 2000
Time Off
Following my recent days of bad skating, I decided not to work on axels since my knees had been hurting. I also limited practice of butterflies and skills that require a flying transition into a back sit spin. These moves brutalize the knee joints. By the end of the week preceding my vacation, I experienced almost no knee pain. However, I knew that I still needed a break from skating. My husband and I spent Memorial Day week at our lake house, which is not conveniently located near a year round ice rink. By Tuesday, my legs felt eighteen years old, and I could hardly wait to work on butterflies again.
My coach recommended that I stretch daily so as not to lose flexibility during my extended holiday. I did this faithfully performing a set of stretching exercises each morning using the back of the sofa as a makeshift ballet barre. I did not limit my skating-related activities to boring exercises on the living room floor. While my husband worked on his boats, I sewed a pretty new leotard. Unfortunately, the unheated rink severely limits “skating costume” days. However, my sewing hobby has generated such a surplus of skating outfits, I can star in my own fashion show throughout the warm summer season.
Between boating and fishing excursions, we visited a used bookstore where I unearthed several wonderful old skating volumes. One was published by the USFSA in either 1965 or 1966 [1]. No date was printed in the small pamphlet; but it provided national novice, junior, and senior competition results through 1965. Its glossary offered insight to how skating terminology has evolved. Toe picks were apparently called “toe points” thirty-five years ago. The second book [2] was written by Diane De Leeuw and includes an autobiographical account of her amateur skating career leading up to a silver medal performance at the 1976 Winter Olympics. Unfortunately, I have not seen Ms. De Leeuw skate, but the text contains many instructional photographs of her on the ice. The third book [3] is the most complete treatise on compulsory figures that I have seen. Published (as a second edition) in 1952; the author, Ernest Jones, wrote the book in formal language that does not make for easy reading. He included a chapter on “grape vines”, figures performed on two feet, which were apparently a lost art even at that time (see drawing below). I had never heard of grape vines before and assume they are entirely unknown today. Interestingly, Jones voiced his concern that the art of skating may be sacrificed to “gymnastic achievement” as early as 1952, before triple jumps were common. He would probably be appalled by the quadruples popular in modern men’s competition. I also found a book on roller skating [4] that contains funky pictures of roller disco maneuvers. A series of photographs depicted the author, who also ice skated, performing an outrageous Russian split jump on traditional roller skates in an asphalt parking lot. He wore no protective equipment.
In the future, my travels will include stops at used bookstores where I might find other skating time capsules. The importance of school figures dominated all of the ice skating texts. Not a figure skater myself, I wonder if compulsories will disappear from the sport completely like the mysterious “grape vines” documented by
For instructional information and to view a video clip of an inline roller skater performing a grapevine, please visit LondonSkaters How to Skate a Grapevine.
1. Meade, Lee The World of Figure Skating United States Figure Skating Association, Boston;
2. De Leeuw, Diane with Lehrman, Steve Figure Skating Atheneum Publications, New York; 1978.
3. Jones, Ernest The Elements of Figure Skating Second Edition, Unwin Brothers Limited, London; 1952.
4. Simcoe, Frank The Official Guide to Outdoor Skating Chartwell Books Inc., Secaucus, New Jersey; 1980.
Week of June 5, 2000
Getting Loopy
After vacation I stepped back on the ice as though I had a new set of legs. I felt completely healed without a trace of soreness. To preserve my good condition, I did not overdo tempting but debilitating moves like multiple loop jump combinations. Renewing axel practice, my success ratio plummeted. Since I have avoided this jump for a couple of weeks, I did not expect instant improvement or even an immediate return to the sparse progress made previously.
Observing my inclination to perform waltz jumps in series as a warm up exercise, my coach commented: “Why can’t the first one be as good as the tenth?”
As I become engrossed in a sequence of these simple jumps, stepping forward from the landing edge of one directly into the next jump, I develop a rhythm. My free leg reaches far ahead lifting my body farther and higher with each subsequent leap. The more I do, the better they become. Based on this pre-existing tendency, Geoff showed me a new axel exercise that he uses to teach double axels.
“You can do axels in a series just like waltz jumps,” he explained.
I would love to do ten axels in a row! I thought. Unfortunately, completing one decent axel presents a significant challenge. How can I overcome that little handicap?
He told me to do two waltzes then an axel using the same speed and flow of movement. Anticipating the scary axel looming in the near future, the waltzes were more tentative than usual. “Here it comes,” I announced before jumping and rotating. My second and third attempts with this technique resulted in better axels that covered more distance. It has also made me aware of the awkward moment of hesitation I experience on the take-off edge for the axel. This exercise may help me to approach the axel more fluidly. Advanced students do a waltz followed by a single axel then a double axel. I would love to do that someday.
We also worked on the interesting loop footwork from my new program. I enjoy practicing these steps and enthusiastically asked Geoff to teach me other loop variants from school figures. The backward inside loops are the easiest. However, I experienced some success with forward and backward outside loops, though only on my left foot. I developed no awareness of the correct method to perform forward inside loops and believe they may be the most difficult. When Geoff demonstrated this edgework as compulsory figures lining them up on a set of axes and tracing the patterns precisely, I was relieved that I did not have to perform them so exactly. Learning the loops as footwork will be time consuming enough. I will never be bored with these low-impact skills to fill my time when I am sore, tired or skating in a crowded session.
I devoted the last ten minutes of the session to the more challenging loop variations and completed an ideal left backward outside loop that caused me to say “Beautiful” aloud. A couple of people heard me and shot perplexed glances in my direction. They had not seen me do anything remarkable, like a double jump. The tracing of that well-proportioned shape carved into the ice by my blade was beyond their view. Unfortunately, I did not have a camera to preserve the perfect pattern nor could I duplicate it.
The Zamboni’s engine distracted me from my edgework signaling last call for a layback. I stepped out of my footwork directly into a spin. I love to learn something new.
Week of June 5, 2000; Part Two
Ballet Revisited
My ballet class ended for the season before it could make a significant difference in my skating, which would probably require a year or more of ballet training. Overall, I enjoyed the class, but I wish it could have been more rigorous. Certain sessions were more intense than others, and some of the women seemed to have trouble handling the harder exercises. I learned an excellent stretching sequence at the barre that has been incorporated to my pre-skating warm-up routine. These stretches have improved my splits on the floor, which could ultimately result in better split and stag leaps on ice.
Aside from the barre work and some jumping drills, I found much of the class time sedentary. I often waited in line trying to stay limber as each woman performed dance steps across the floor. While I would have appreciated more focus on body positions, traversing the studio while turning and kicking did not seem to relate to skating. Of course, the class was not intended specifically for skaters. However, I learned that dancers rotate in both directions, particularly for pirouettes. My clockwise rotation direction, firmly established after years of skating, dominated the turns I could do on the floor. Interestingly, dancers call a pirouette consisting of two revolutions and “double”, and three revolutions a “triple”. Even as an adept spinner on the ice, I struggled with doubles. A blade edge cutting the ice provides a secure surface for spinning; whereas, a leather soled ballet slipper slides freely on polished wood offering no means of gripping the surface.
The dance sequences made me feel particularly clumsy. In truth, I have never been a dancer, although I did like to boogie at school dances as a teen. My lack of dance training became apparent when I tried to repeat steps demonstrated by the instructor. Joining the class toward the end of the year also put me at a disadvantage. Able to execute many complicated elements on ice skates, I cannot be categorized as hopelessly uncoordinated.
Ballet will begin this fall in September or October. I will probably try it again.
Week of June 12, 2000
The Rash
My husband insists there is no poison ivy around our house. However, I have a rash on my ankles that proves otherwise. I probably got it walking through the side yard to water the flower garden. I am terribly allergic to poison oak, ivy and the like; and went to the doctor immediately before it could spread. Last year I broke out with a hideous rash on my face over the Fourth of July weekend, the hottest days of the year, when temperatures reached over 100°F. Upon returning from the emergency room, I never ventured far from the air-conditioner. As a child, I contracted a case of poison oak that covered my body almost entirely and landed me in the hospital.
Had the rash occurred anywhere but my ankles, I would not have been concerned about skating with it. I dreaded shoving my blistered ankles into form-fitting boots that would certainly rub them raw. Last week I skated with my hand swollen from an insect sting, another of my many allergies. The hand only throbbed when I pulled a fast scratch spin. I used to blur these spins regularly, but practice them infrequently now. When my repertoire was more limited, and a scratch spin and layback constituted the only jewels in my skating tiara, I accepted that blurring spins caused the fine capillaries in my hands and forearms to burst. The centripetal force pushing outward from the axis of rotation actually causes these tiny veins to pop giving the hands a reddened appearance. Upon close examination, the redness results from minute pin pricks of blood just below the surface of the skin. My coach has witnessed this phenomenon in the eyes of female pair skaters who are subjected to fast
I bandaged my ankles prior to leaving for the rink and walked cautiously in my skates to the ice surface. My first jumps were small and tentative as I tested my impaired ankles. Fortunately, I experienced no pain and skated unusually well. After considering taking a break from skating until the rash subsided, I gladly enjoyed this almost empty session. Once at home, I did not look forward to removing my socks and examining the damage rigorous skating must have inflicted upon the wounds. I was surprised to find the rashes just as I left them. My boots must be softer and more broken down than I realized.
Week of June 12, 2000; Part Two
Skating Dress Follies
Several years ago I decided to experiment with unusual fabrics for skating costumes. I have sewn since childhood and am a competent seamstress. However, the quest for creativity often results in revealing lessons that should be shared but not repeated. Unearthing a box of my old clothes in a valiant effort to clean our garage, my husband discovered a skating dress I made years ago and presumed lost. The leotard itself is constructed of a cotton/spandex blend while the contrasting skirt and sleeves sparkle in iridescent organza. This dress looks beautiful on the hanger but disappoints when stretched over the body of a grown woman.
What is wrong with the dress? First, the skirt is too full. The pattern makes a double circle skirt gathered into a shaped waistline that follows the contour of the hips and abdomen. Most adult women do not have little breakfast sausage figures that rotate easily in double and triple jumps. A very full skirt and exaggerated waistline may accentuate even an attractive hipline making it burgeon to unsightly proportions. On a woman who lacks hip curvature, a full skirt may create a flattering illusion of shapeliness. Second, the skirt is too short. Most sewing patterns for skaters feature a very short skirt, which is popular among younger girls. Many grown women prefer a more modest style that covers the derriere. Third, the skirt fabric is too stiff. A soft skirt that hangs close to the body and drifts in the breeze created by the skater’s movement can be lovely. However, a rigid one that encircles the lower body like a ballet tutu appears juvenile. Finally, the neckline does not flatter the shoulders or bustline. A low-slung “U”, it lacks shape and style contributing nothing to the fashion statement that might be made by a well designed skating costume. This fluffy dress might look pretty on a child or a slender petite woman.
The most attractive skating skirts for adult women tend to be smoother and longer. However, sewing patterns most often include pieces for a quadruple circle skirt, meaning each panel of the skirt (front, sides and back) is an individual circle. When the skater spins, the skirt flies away from the legs in waves of fabric. Most elite skaters have abandoned this design in favor of more tailored sophisticated styles. Short and sassy skirts are generally reserved for children.
A home seamstress can easily avoid most of the problems observed in the black skating dress. Stiff or crisp textiles such as organza, organdy, taffeta and tulle should not be used for skirts. Draping fabrics such as chiffon, georgette and crepe make softer skirts that conform to the body. Stiffer materials may be used effectively if the skirt is straighter and longer (View example). A woven contrast skirt must be cut larger than the waistline opening and eased into the seam so it can expand with the stretch of the leotard when the wearer steps into the garment. Fitting the costume with a zipper extending below hip level may minimize gathers. If an adult woman prefers a double or quadruple circle skirt, simply cutting the skirt two or three inches longer results in a more becoming final product. Similarly, low shapeless necklines can be raised to frame the face and flatter the shoulders. Substituting a single circle or flared skirt for an excessively full one requires drafting new pattern pieces, which may be difficult for a novice seamstress. Basically the desired skirt should be cut in panels whose resulting waist edge circumference matches the measurement of the leotard waistline before the addition of seam allowances and wearing ease.
Before cutting expensive competition fabric, new patterns should be tried on less costly goods to finalize fit and style details. The mock up can often be recycled as a practice dress. Use of different fabrics, sleeve and skirt variations, and embellishments will give a good basic pattern an infinite variety of looks. Simple leotards and wrap skirts can be constructed with a minimal amount of sewing experience. After practicing on inexpensive fabrics, home sewers may also make more elaborate skirted skating dresses. Sewing is an excellent way to save money on skating outfits and to express your individuality on the ice.
A good starter leotard and wrap skirt pattern is Kwik Sew 1301. I prefer to raise the front neckline about two inches and lower the back neckline accordingly.
Week of June 19, 2000
Inflation
This week marks the end of the regular season at my rink; summer sessions begin next week. I still have not decided what to do over the summer. Last year, I did not care for the obscenely expensive low freestyle sessions that swarmed with overzealous little girls in fancy skating outfits. In August, the management allowed higher level skaters to rehearse for the summer ice show gratis on what otherwise would have been a decent session. My coach will scope out the first couple of weeks to identify the least crowded days for my lessons. Depending on who offers reasonable ice time, I will probably bounce from rink to rink until the kids go back to school. I also plan to experiment with my new freestyle inline skates, which I have not tried yet.
Another adult skater warned that the price of lessons would increase in the summer. Hoping this was rumor, my coach disappointed me with the bad news. I have taken private lessons from him for over a year and a half and paid $60 per hour, which I consider costly for any service, no matter how worthwhile. Geoff is an excellent instructor and my skating has flourished under his tutelage. His guidance has been worth $60 per hour. Starting next week, the rate climbs to $72 per hour. Assuming one hour of instruction per week, the increase totals forty-eight dollars per month and over five hundred per year. On an annual basis, this seems to be an exorbitant amount of money.
I do not begrudge anyone the opportunity to earn a respectable living, and this is the first time that Geoff’s rates have risen since I have skated with him. I do not know how large a commission the rink takes from his fee. Another skater heard it might be as high as twenty-five percent. Like all employed people, figure skating professionals deserve salary increases to account for inflation as well as to reward superior performance. Geoff’s performance, in my opinion, has been excellent. As one of his clients, his augmented earnings will come partially from me.
During the summer, I planned to reserve a weekly half-hour lesson. For now, I will not worry about the increased expense of private instruction. In the fall, I may re-evaluate my coaching needs and possibly reduce my lesson time if the cost becomes burdensome. Skating is truly an expensive sport, and I am just a recreational skater.
Friday June 23, 2000
Commitment
Since my first attempts at the double salchow, my form has been good. Geoff insists I will feel ridiculous when I finally master this jump because it is so simple. I should be able to do it right now, but have grown comfortable with the half-ass attempts that land short of rotation assisted by a tap of the free foot.
“This is easier than a butterfly,” he commented flatly, knowing I readily learned to perform a butterfly.
On skating’s grand scale of difficulty, a double salchow is a simple jump. Kids learn it long before a butterfly or any of the creative flying camel variations that I do fifteen minutes into a session. But I am a natural spinner and have been intimidated by jumps for years. The praiseworthy quality of my singles actually surprises me.
“You have to work on the double salchow with the intensity that you devote to the axel. You have to be willing to fall,” Geoff suggested.
I decided to commit to the double salchow and dedicate a significant portion of my practice time to it. Rather than playing with moves that I can already do reasonably well, my immediate goal involves becoming a more complete skater by learning a double. Of course, I do not intend to abandon the skills in my present arsenal, but maintain them with adequate practice. The doubles frustrate me because I nearly land them (and have landed the salchow a few times), but never quite master the technique. “Close” does not count in figure skating. I experience more success with other elements and tend to focus on my strengths. This commitment is easy to make now, on the last day of the season, when I don’t know where in the hell I will skate during the summer.
I also would like to develop my miserable flying sit spin into an admirable skill. This seems to be the most difficult flying spin because the free leg does not provide much leverage in the jump. Rather than casting the free leg into a backspin as in a flying camel, a flying sit requires a popping action from the skating leg jumping into a forward spin. Presently I am working on a combination spin that builds strength for a flying sit. The combination begins with a basic forward camel spin, then the skater brings his free leg around in a wide arc as though preparing to descend into a fast forward sit spin. Rather than sinking into a seated position, the free leg lifts accompanied by a jump straight upward from the skating leg with a quick tuck into a flying sit pose. Before attempting this maneuver, Geoff demonstrated how to warm up my leg for tucking, which is the key to any flying sit spin. Standing in the doorway to the penalty box, I support my weight on the boards with my hands and lift my body upward like a teenager boosting himself onto the kitchen counter. Once elevated, the employed leg tucks as quickly as possible, virtually kicking myself in the butt with the heel of my skate. This motion gives the flying sit spin its glorious illusion of sitting high in the air above the ice.
Sounds easy? It is not. However, the camel-flying sit combination is significantly easier than a standard
Leaving the hockey rink today, I looked back longingly at the sheet of ice. I love that rink. I landed my first axel there almost a year ago. In all likelihood, I will not skate on that ice again until September.
Week of June 26, 2000
Like, The Galleria
Malls ceased to amuse me with the onset of maturity. I prefer to avoid swarms of people and premium prices for goods available elsewhere. I have not skated in a mall ice arena for several years. Anticipating the change to my rink’s bustling, expensive summer camp schedule, other adult skaters mentioned this mall rink that is not much farther from my home. The public sessions are cheap and not crowded during the regular season. I decided to try it this week before the place also starts its abbreviated summer camp program.
Entering a new rink for the first time makes me feel like an unwelcome stranger. I did not know where to pay the admission fee, where to sit and lace my skates or where the clock was on the wall. No one recognized me, and the regulars tended to avoid the newcomer then size me up once on the ice.
“So, is the management serious about the no camel rule?” I asked another woman who stretched like a former competitor. The woman looked at me as though she had never heard of such foolishness. I pointed to the sign that dictated no camels or double jumps during public sessions.
“Oh,” she realized. “If there isn’t anyone here it doesn’t matter.”
She persisted in her remedial camels even after throngs of kids and stiffs arrived on the ice to escape the summer heat. Her camels presented a hazard to no one. However, if someone emptied a sack of potatoes over me while camel spinning, my free blade would slice them into hash browns. No camels may sound like a simple restriction, but it also limits back camels, flying camels, jump camels, spin combinations, kneeling camels, camels into illusions, etc. Since every other freestyle skater practiced camels, so did I. And the rink Gestapo did not ask me to leave. I even landed a few axels that looked especially pitiful next to the fine specimens performed by an eighteen year old girl sporting a streaming golden ponytail. She knew every double in the technical manual except possibly for the double axel. But she lost points on her flying camel cheated with a full revolution before casting her free leg into a backspin.
Dressed only in fleece leggings and a leotard, I broke a healthy but uncomfortable sweat after a few minutes on the ice. I am used to a frigid rink, but this community-friendly facility seemed too warm for serious exercise. If I were younger and uninhibited, this would be the place to wear spaghetti straps and backless dresses. Hot and thirsty, I hiked an inconvenient distance from the ice to get a drink. The water fountain was situated near the restrooms, from which a foul odor emanated. I brought my own water bottle the next day.
A rink can seem like a second home. I know everyone who works and skates at my usual rink. I know every inch of the building and every bad spot on the ice. Most skating people are friendly, and I met a couple of adult skaters at the new rink. I will probably skate for several weeks at the mall before September and may include a few of their sessions in my regular season routine.
Week of June 26, 2000; Part Two
The Joys of Public Sessions
During the early years of my skating experience, I skated primarily at public sessions because they were readily available and inexpensive. Since then, I graduated to adult and freestyle sessions. Due to the awkwardness of summer rink schedules, I found myself a public session skater again. I had almost forgotten the joys of these multi-purpose sessions.
Public sessions explain my aptitude for spinning. No matter how crowded the ice becomes, there is usually a spot in the middle for a spin. The spot may be small, but that only encouraged me to center. Spinning fast gains respect from even the most obnoxious hockey kid, and people tend to allow a competent spinner enough room to demonstrate her craft. However, I became dizzy circling my small domain waiting for an appropriate moment to launch into the next spin. A little girl stood just outside my territory, skinny legs quivering as they fought to support her body on ill-fitting rental boots. She watched, awe-struck, then propelled herself away.
Another adult decided to practice lutzes after a party of day campers took to the ice. Once the session becomes crowded, I satisfy myself with spinning and eventually leave. Undaunted by the masses, she began backward crossovers. Yelling “Heads up!”, the woman cut into the corner. Successful in more attempts than I would have dared, she dropped her hands in exasperation aborting a lutz as a large group of people rounded the back of the rink. The determined woman tried again. Assertively, she bellowed, “Heads up!” but stopped suddenly tearing the ice with her toe picks . She expelled a puff of frustrated wind through her lips glancing at me in an effort to share her aggravation.
Did this woman honestly believe a gang of eleven year old boys racing on hockey skates gave a
Summer skating can be difficult for people who are used to quiet sessions when the little buggers are in school. These skaters should adjust their expectations and use ice time efficiently. Warming up off-ice allows more time at the beginning of the session to work on jumps before mobs of skate renters arrive. Spins can be practiced later utilizing a minimal amount of space in the center of the rink. Becoming angry with public skaters does not improve one’s lutz. Nor are public skaters aware of the unwritten right-of-way commandments governing many freestyle sessions. Yelling “heads up” and expecting results seems ridiculous and inappropriate among hockey kids and mall shoppers. Fellow figure skaters try to stay out of each other’s path assuming the courtesy will be reciprocated. No such understanding exists among recreational skaters. The onus lies with the figure skater to make the most of a public session while sharing the ice with others.
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