Life as a Second-Chance Ice Skater

This has been a banner week for skating. I've made more progress with my back spins and loop jumps in the past week than I have in the past year and a half, my sit spins are a work in progress but are that rare move that feels like I'm making noticeable progress every day, I'VE STARTED WORKING ON MY AXEL ON THE ICE, and my primary coach must have told me "that's your best one yet" not only more than ever in one lesson but also about so many things. AND all five of my Bronze MITF test elements felt the most proficient and fluid they ever have in terms of a cohesive, passing test. I love feeling so into this sport and in the zone, and those days when leaving the ice is almost painful are proof that I can get so much accomplished if I just let my brain follow along with my body. Also, I'll be writing for the blog Adults Skate Too and already have my first post  up. Lots of adult skaters have already shared their stories and advice, too, and there's al...

I have taken to pep-talking myself through the most intimidating parts of whatever test, program, or new element I’m working on, but there is nothing I mutter to myself more than “Remember that you do this because you fucking love this.” I’ve briefly touched on this before , but I’ve stuttered for nearly 30 years. The ways it directly affects my skating are minimal—I might trip over my tongue while chatting with my coaches, catching up with my skating sisters, or joking around with the custodian, and I am kind of shocked that no one’s mentioned that I talk a little funny, ESPECIALLY when I’m going through a nasty bout of disfluency—but it’s the perspective that it’s given me that correlates to my life as a figure skater the most. Stuttering isn’t fatal, it doesn’t hurt, and it only imposes on my quality of life if I choose to let it. It is, however, irksome at best and humiliating at worst to know exactly what you want to say but either can’t spit it out or are terrified that your ow...

With Lake Placid coming on fast (EIGHT! FREAKING! DAYS!) and the total tease of signing up for my Bronze MITF test only to have it cancelled literally the next day, I’ve been feeling so up and down and lukewarm about my skating—not the sport itself, just my perpetually underwhelming proficiency in it. I've been back at skating for almost two and a half years, and I love and am dedicated to this sport in ways my younger self never was, so it kills me to admit that, even though I'm skating better in my mid-30s than I ever did with a younger, more agile body, I’m still just not that great of a skater. In my bitchier days, I shamelessly, openly scorned mediocre writers for adding nothing to the craft but who were clearly so delusional to think that their sloppy jumble of clichés held together by more clichés had any merit or deserved to see the light of day. I can't erase my lesser moments or wantonly judgmental ways of the past, but I can appreciate how utterly non-productiv...