If you can, why aren't you?

The title of this one says it all, really. This is the question I've been forced to ask myself, and I'd encourage every other adult skater to figure out if they need to be asking themselves the same.

I don't know about you, but I think a great coach is one who not only teaches you the physical elements of skating (or any other sport), but also motivates you and/or gives you a metaphorical kick up the bum when needed (on a regular basis, in my case!).

Ok, manned up....now man up some more....

I probably posted about me trying to be a new, braver me and feeling like it was working. I still do think it's working to some extent...I'm certainly doing more on the ice now than I would have dared even just a few months ago. It may sound like nothing to a lot of people, but for a nervous ninny like me, mohawking at any speed faster than standstill is a great achievement.

So now my coach has started putting together a program for me, I feel like these things are really starting to come along because (most of the time) I just do it. My new principle is to embrace the fear, if you like. I feel the fear, ignore it, and do it anyway, then panic afterwards (while overheating through the fear sweats). A few months ago I would have felt the fear and stopped dead in my tracks, the end.

Ok - it didn't quite work out in one of my lessons last week. In a rather amusing moment, I panicked and chickened out of a move - three times in a row. What it meant was, instead of doing the mohawk-thing I was supposed to do, I two-foot turned. A big no-no. I recall an earlier conversation with Coach A where he said "what was THAT?". My reply of "a two-foot turn" was greeted with "Excuuuuse me? What level is that on? (4) and what level are you on? (Gold).....ahem." *Cue face of disappointment*.

This time, that two-foot turn just happened to be at a point EXACTLY in front where he was standing, watching from the barrier. Bad times. "Oh come ON. Really?? I'm standing right here." Fair point, Coach A, fair point. To be fair, I fixed it. What choice was there?

Anyway, so in my most recent lesson, Coach A very kindly, I must say, called my backward crossovers "absolutely brilliant". Those words will stick in my head for all eternity I think, since I never in a million years would have expected such an accolade. He then politely pointed out, however, that I don't do them in my 'brilliant' way if ANYTHING comes after them. On their own, yeah, great. But they slow down to a snail's pace in anticipation of what's to come next if I'm expecting a jump, spin - well, anything really. And he's totally right.

So guess what I'm going to try working on this week....cue many splats. Anyone got a spare ambulance ready?

The multi-tasking world of skating

"How long can you hold you breath?"
The question was fired at me mid-spin in my latest lesson. And no there's no typo.

Whenever you read comments from Coach A, you have to imagine them in a deep voice with a sultry Russian accent to get the full impact. I LOVE having a Russian coach. It comes with many benefits - the fantabulous skating inspiration, for one, but then the accent makes the bollockings - sorry, constructive criticisms - seem so much more serious than

There's just no other title for it: Bloody Salchows

I always said I seem to skate better when I'm in a lesson as opposed to when I practice on my own; however, my Salchow apparently doesn't play by those rules, much to my dismay.

This week was really the first week I was able to get back to proper practice after my health issues kept me away from the ice (and boy do my muscles realise this!). At the beginning of the week, something seemed to click a bit, and suddenly I was hesitating much less in my Salchow.

I've always had what I call a "Mr Miyagi moment" in the middle of it - after the 3 turn I hesitate in something resembling this pose -----> for a good 3 seconds before I jump.

Then at the beginning of the week, I had a moment where everything my coach told me suddenly came together and,

The lost art of jumping

This week, Coach A, a friend and I were discussing "point scoring" for want of a better phrase - the changes to scoring in competition that means almost every program you watch these days is virtually the same. The need to include ever more rotations in jumps, and certain elements to rack up the points means you often feel you're watching the same routine over and over. With that in mind, is it any wonder figure skating no longer draws the audiences it used to?

Ryan Stevens, a blogger in Canada, has written a brilliant article looking at this very issue, which I really enjoyed reading this morning with my Frosties and cuppa. You can find it here: The Lost Art of Jumping on Skateguard Happy reading!