Skating in Michigan

Early in January, Grace and I traveled to Grand Rapids, Michigan to see family. While we were there, Grace practiced at the Patterson Ice Rink, home to the Greater Grand Rapids Figure Skating Club (http://www.ggrfsc.org/). Grace shared the ice with some extraordinary skaters. I was thrilled to see her skate out, without hesitation or self-consciousness, to share the practice ice with competitive junior and senior level skaters (of whom there were many). The Patterson Rink is a fantastic facility (something we yearn for here in Lincoln). The Club leaders were exceptionally welcoming to Grace. We visited the Pro Shop, which has a very tempting inventory of beautiful practice and competition dresses and talked for a while with Jennifer Forrest. She invited us to come back to Grand Rapids over the summer. The rink offers numerous hockey camps that Dan and Lucy might attend and arrangements could be made for Grace could to skate with the GGRFSC. Wouldn't that be cool?!?! Here's a picture of Grace getting ready to skate in Michigan.

Shameful Neglect

I admit it. I have neglected my blog terribly in the last few months. I am deeply ashamed. But there's a story attached to my absence from The Outside Edge and it's taken me this long to discern what that story is exactly.

On October 15, 2008, Grace and I went to the rink as we usually do on Wednesdays. Grace had her lesson which, as I recall, went well. Then she went back on the ice for Junior Club (Blade and Edge FSC's developmental program for skaters at the Free Skate Levels prior to Pre-Preliminary) and I took the ice for the Learn to Skate session. We were working on backwards stroking. I wasn't, even then, a fan of doing anything backwards on the ice or off. On my blades, when I'm going backwards I feel teetery -- like I'm going to going to fall right over -- and at LTS I just know I'm going to run over some poor toddler. In any case, I was stroking away -- backwards -- when suddenly I heard Jerry start to say my name and registered that there was panic in his face. Then I was flat out on the ice. Another adult skater had collided with me. My right hand felt funny and I felt wobbly on the inside. As I got up, Jerry skated over to make sure I was okay. I told him I was, but I didn't feel okay. I don't think I would have described how I was feeling at the time as pain. I experienced it more as a kind of overwhelming desire to be alone. It was only after I left the ice and sat down to take my skates off that I realized I had actually broken a finger.

Lest you think I'm a total weenie, it really wasn't the pain of a broken finger that kept me from writing blog entries all this time. It was the creature that snuck in the back while I was applying ice, driving home afterward, imagining my next lesson, and driving back to the rink the following Wednesday. It was fear: not as an abstraction and not fear as the result of imagining hurt or failure or pain, but the kind of fear that follows from experience. I was not afraid of the possibility I might fall again, but because I knew I would -- and it would be as embarrassing and painful and public as it had been that other time.

And that was it. I wasn't having fun anymore. I didn't want to go fast; I didn't want to try anything new; I didn't want to wobble even the slightest little bit. Not surprisingly, I stopped progressing. I couldn't do crossovers, I couldn't do three turns. I didn't want to work on backwards stroking. I didn't write blog posts because I had nothing to say. I wasn't excited or interested or composed enough to write, I felt. Instead, I thought a lot and long and hard about quitting. I really wanted to quit.

But what would I ever say to Grace, I thought, or Dan or Lucy if they wanted to pull a stunt like quitting after what was, really, such a minor failure? Plus I just hate thinking of myself as a quitter or as someone to fearful to try things. One night at the rink, I was watching Jenny (one of the Blade and Edge coaches) work with her skaters. I like watching Jenny coach and I like watching her skaters perform. As I watched her work that night I realized that the reason I like watching Jenny and her skaters is that you can really see in their faces, their bodies, and in the way they skate how much pleasure they are taking from the sport. There's just no doubt they're having fun. I've also noticed that mostly Jenny's skaters have a strong dance sensibility. When I've worked with Jenny during LTS sessions, she uses language to describe what she's looking for that I can connect with my studies of dance and movement from way back

So I asked Jenny to give me a few lessons. I've worked with her twice and I've skated with Grace quite a bit over the holiday season. I'm not all back to where I was before. I'm still more fearful than I was, but I am having fun again. And I feel like I can write again. And that's important -- really important -- to me.

So I'm back, with apologies for my absence, and with a renewed sense of motivation and interest if not fearlessness.

frankie