"You're pretty good . . . for an adult"

After a year of skating, I decided that I needed to take a stroking class.  "Stroking" is skater lingo for "cardio".  Except in a cardio class, you don't usually have 10 pound ankle weights, aka ice skates, strapped to your feet.

Stroking classes are designed to help you skate faster and build endurance.  I was anxious to take one because I thought it would help my form, but mostly, I thought it would help me lose weight. 

The coaches decided to divide the class by age and/or skill level:  the elite skaters and teenagers were in one group.  The preschoolers and elementary school girls were in the other.  They placed me with the preschoolers.

Even with the preschoolers, I felt like I was struggling.  I was always the last person to finish a drill.  One day, Charis skated up to me and said, "Miss Holly, you need to skate fast."

"Charis, I'm skating . . . pant . . . as fast . . . wheeze . . . as I can." I tried to explain to her about target heart rates, and about how I was about to have a heart attack. 

"But, it doesn't do any good if you don't skate fast.  You need to skate faster." 

The coaches, normally incredibly sweet young women, turned into dominatrices . . . "Don't you stop . . . Holly, you can breathe while you do crossovers!"  No, no I can't because if I don't stop now, I'll die and I won't be breathing or doing crossovers.  But at least the pain will be gone.

One day, I was huffing and puffing my way down the first side of the rink when I noticed that Dyllan had just passed me on her second lap. In Phoenix, Dyllan was my day-to-day inspiration to skate.  At age 10, she was doing things on the ice that I had always dreamed of.  At age 12, she won the juvenile national championship. It was a privilege to share the ice with her.  It was a joy to watch her skate.

The next time I saw Dyllan in a practice session, I teased her about lapping me during class.  She flashed an embarrassed grin.  "You're pretty good . . . "  Wow, Dyllan was saying I was good!  " . . . for an adult." 

""For an adult'. . . what does that mean?"

"Well, we've had adults in the class before and they skate for about 15 minutes and quit.  But even though you took breaks, you finished the class."

Dyllan had just made me the proudest adult skater ever.

Adult Onset Skating Syndrome

This article is from the Recreational Figure Skating FAQ, by Karen Bryden with numerous contributions by others.

Adult-Onset Skating Syndrome (AOSS)

So you're 30-something or 40-something and have never skated, or
skated a bit as a kid. But the sight of the skaters on TV gets
something going in the pit of your stomach so you get some skates and
take a few lessons. Next thing you know you're hooked! Some of the
symptoms of this disease are:

1) You start dreaming about sit-spins and double jumps.

2) You find yourself practicing spread-eagles while waiting for the
bus.

3) The major factor in choosing an apartment/vacation destination is a
nearby rink. Corollary: You know the day/hour of every skating session
within 50 miles.

4) You start planning your work and family life around your skating
sessions. Corollary: Your dog fetches your skates on command.

5) You put off buying clothes to pay for more coaching. Corollary: The
clothes you DO buy are made of Lycra and sequins.

6) You break in your skates by wearing them at work and slip on the
way to the printer, suffering a black eye.

7) You forget to take work clothes to the rink and end up spending
your work day in your skating costume. None of your colleagues seems
surprised.

8) You hype your Alpha test so much at work that your co-workers think
it's a qualifying event for Nationals.

If you notice any of these symptoms in yourself, you are suffering
from AOSS my friend! Subscribe to rec.sport.skating.ice.recreational.
At least you will have the compassion of others who are dealing with
this problem, and you may find the solution for centering that darned
scratch spin!

Meeting Dorothy

I will never forget the day I met Dorothy Hamill.

When I came home from school one day when I was 6 years old, my mom excitedly made me sit down and watch this young girl in a red dress skating at the Olympics.  She spun and jumped.  She could do anything!  Best of all, she squinted too see her marks after she skated - she was near sighted, just like me!

Right then, I knew I wanted to be Dorothy Hamill when I grew up.

This was beginning of my love affair and obsession with figure skating. Mom and I bonded every winter over nationals, worlds, and, of course, over the Olympics every four years.  I even got to take figure skating lessons for a while.  But after a while, figure skating was put aside for other activities.  Even watching it on TV lost it's appeal once I moved away from home and couldn't watch it with Mom any more. 


One night in 2007, though, the magic came back.  I was home sick from work, tired but unable to fall asleep, so I wound up watching a reality show about figure skaters preparing for nationals.  An angel named Alyssa Czizny glided gracefully around the ice. "When you're on the ice, you're free,"  she said.

Memories flooded my mind . . . the cold air racing by my ears . . . feeling like I was flying when I jumped on the ice . . . Tears ran down my cheeks.  I woke my husband up, sobbing, and asked if I could take skating lessons.

It's been three years since I started skating again.  I took my my Adult Pre-Bronze Moves in the Field and Freeskate tests.  I've competed in two competitions.  I realized that I hated my job and quit, trading it to work at a retail store for half the pay and flexible hours while I decide what career path to pursue.

The other day, my mother-in-law asked me, "So what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The answer was simple:  "Dorothy Hamill."