Current Skate of Mind

It’s ice show season. Some rinks and clubs host their ice shows at the end of the summer or during the holidays, but most cook them up right about now, after the competition season winds down and before the summer schedule ramps up.

I’ve never personally made an ice show from scratch, but I’ve been an ingredient in many, observer of several, and an assistant in a few. Preparing an ice show is a gigantic undertaking, but the results are well worth it: they spice up the year’s skating buffet and once you’ve had a taste, you’re not likely to forget it.

So if you’re up for the challenge, roll up your sleeves, sharpen your knives (okay, blades), put on your goofy white chef’s hat, and fine-tune your Emeril imitation…because we’re about to kick it up a notch.   

First, chill ice rink to approximately 50 degrees, then gather the following ingredients…

Several thousand pounds of Skaters: This is the meat of the dish. For the most interesting texture, try to obtain a variety of skaters including tall, short, young, old, free range, and grain-fed. The more tender cuts are usually still wearing rental skates and the more “seasoned” variety come with freakishly deformed feet despite custom-built skates.

1 extra-bold Theme: This largely determines the flavor of this stew. The possibilities are infinite. If you’re hoping for an international fusion, go with, Skate Around the World. For more regional fare, go with These United States or Roadtrip USA. If you’re hoping to whip together something of a more seasonal nature, try Seasons of Skating or Holidays on Ice (for more on this latter theme see “Holidays on Ice” the column over to the right). Broadway and Hollywood concoctions are always a safe bet. But really, you can choose just about anything, as long as it’s somewhat recognizable to the general palate.

1 emotionally-stable Director with an iron fist: This is the head chef. Due to the complicated, stressful nature of this endeavor, he or she must be tyrannical in the kitchen. After all, without one determined leader willing to stir this all together, it would never get made.  

Several slices of music with the fat trimmed: Choices will be determined based on the theme, though only the best parts should be retained. Slices that are too large (read: too long) tend to make the skating stale and, as a result, difficult to digest. For added authenticity, the music system should break down at least once during the show, ideally prompting all the house lights to be turned on and the announcer to fill the dead air with jokes his family only tolerates to be nice. 

A generous bunch of multi-colored Costumes: These can be sewn by dedicated parents, ordered from a catalogue, or simply thrown together using items most everyone already has in their pantries. For the record, it is widely understood that the smallest skaters are best dressed as bumblebees, ladybugs, and pumpkins, though they do look cute in just about everything. Teenage girls prefer costumes that are as revealing as possible and for this reason it is far more satisfying to instead dress them in big furry costumes and large red clown wigs: they will outwardly groan and roll their eyes, but they will secretly love it. Adults usually prefer to be wrapped in black. Evening gowns with long white gloves are an excellent pairing. Ideally, there will be at least one costume malfunction, probably a detached component embarrassing the wearer and tripping another.   

A sprinkling of Props, lined up separately in the locker rooms in the order they will be added: For example, brooms work well for witches, American flags are appropriate for the Fourth of July, and wands are ideal for both princesses and fairies…the possibilities are endless. Again, dropping a prop greatly contributes to ice show authenticity, as does accidentally poking another skater in the eye.  

An abundance of Coaches, well-coddled: These will function as the sous chefs, doing a lot of the prep work in the form of choreography and general organization. They will also be the wait-staff on night of the big feast, ensuring that the ice show gets served in a relatively smooth fashion. If you are lucky and provide costuming of a not-too revealing or not-too-silly variety (after all, that was then and this is now), they may even jump into the pot themselves. Of course, the more intra-staff tension, the tastier.

A large serving of Spectators, chilled: Though the goal is to attract fans from all over the county via posters and perhaps ads in local publications, the audience will most likely be comprised of blood relations of the skaters. If you are desperate to fill the stands, you may have to pull hapless bystanders off the street and pay them to attend. As an insurance plan, it’s not a bad idea to dub pre-recorded ovation onto the end of each slice of music. Note that every great club ice show in the history of club ice shows features at least one spectator losing her footing on the metal bleachers. If the EMT has to be called in, it is simultaneously unfortunate and also yet another sign of authenticity.

Several printed Programs, slivered, collated, folded in half: At bare minimum, this is a simple menu listing what the diners are in for. More sophisticated versions include revenue-generating ads from “corporate sponsors” (a.k.a. businesses owned by skaters’ parents) or from grandparents. The standard copy for these ads generally reads: Good luck Susie! We love you! Grams and Gramps. Misprints, especially those that may have legal ramifications, add a nice little kick.

Guest skaters (optional): Though it will cost you, you can import a skater of a more “gourmet” variety from a nearby rink or from across the country. This is intended to transform your show from something more casual into haute cuisine. Of course, it’s highly likely that she’ll be sick the day of your show or slightly injured (as most elite skaters usually are), and so she won’t attempt any elements more impressive than what many of the perfectly-respectable skaters in your club can already do. 

2-4 rented Spotlights (optional): While not essential, these contribute nicely to the ambiance. They can make a mediocre ice show seem instantly more appetizing. Authenticity, here, is achieved in two ways: first, when spotlight operators lose track of  skaters so that the skaters are in darkness and the spotlight is focusing only on empty ice; second, when a skater becomes disoriented by the spotlights and aims in the wrong direction, bumping into the group of skaters behind her and creating a series of falls that demonstrate the Domino Effect. In the words of Emeril: BAM! 

A selection of wooden Stage Sets (optional): These also contribute to the setting and are most-often the product of creative bursts on the parts of a few parents, occurring usually in a garage, at the last minute. The best part is that when one of these wooden panels - say, in the shape of a large teepee for a Native American number - gets accidentally knocked down on the ice, it makes a sound similar to a gunshot. Not only will babies for miles around start to cry, everyone will jump out of their seats and look around, panicked, therefore not noticing that a young skate-wearing “papoose” is trapped under her one-dimensional house.

A pinch of Parents: Despite their other commitments, parents will assist with absolutely  every aspect of the show including gathering ingredients, sewing costumes, building sets, tracking down props, selling ads for the program, and picking up the guest skaters from the airport, etc. Frighteningly (and thankfully), they often walk around with open safety pins between pursed lips. It is important to make sure that their role remains completely unsung because this is what they have become accustomed to; any form of unexpected praise could distract them.    

1 highly-animated Announcer: This person is either a radio DJ by profession or a skating dad who wants to be one in his next life. When he talks, he inflects his words with such exaggeration that, in any other scenario, it would be quite… “grating.” His own special contribution to ice show authenticity is the mispronunciation of the names of at least three soloists and accidentally leaving the microphone on while asking his assistant how much longer this is going to “drag on.”

Several sprigs of Chaos (inevitable): You might as well just accept this particular ingredient, whisk it in, and savor it because you have no choice. In the end, it will provide the most lasting memories and fits of laughter.

Exactly 15 miracles (highly recommended): Because things tend to boil over, or burn, or remain inexplicably raw, as the day of the ice show approaches, it’s important that you try to track down this precious ingredient. You won’t find ice show miracles in any stores or even in skating catalogues, so your best bet is to just pray for them, even if you’re not the praying type.

To Prepare:  

First, set extremely valuable miracles off to the side in a tightly-sealed tupperware and hire a guard to watch over them. Memorize the passcode and secret handshake for when you need to get them.

Set timer for approximately 30 days. Add all other ingredients gradually over the course of that one hectic month.

Simmer, uncovered, on medium heat. Stir constantly during rehearsals and also during what may feel like thousands of sleepless nights. Knead your hands together with worry and rub your aching temples. You should realize that the creation of an ice show is an unwieldy though surprisingly inexact science, so while precise order and methodologies may seem important at first, they are most certainly not. In fact, there has probably never been an ice show put together without a great number of mistakes, oversights, and gaffs, for which you will of course need those aforementioned miracles.

Note that, even as late as the dress rehearsal, your ice show will look like a mound of lumpy, unappealing slop. But no worries, your dish will be ready when your timer rings, indicating that the expensive slot of ice-time you’ve rented has arrived. Your show will be ready, if for no other reason, because it has to be.

And if all else fails? There’s usually quite a delicious spread over at the club bake-sale table.  

Serves: approximately 250, give or take 100.

Bon Apetite!

                                                        ***

What did I forget? Do you know of any other variations on this recipe?  

Also, have you ever lost your wallet or had it stolen? I have some advice. Click on Cusp of Greatness over to the right.

Mother’s Day is around the corner. ‘Tis the season to count her blessings. Or try to.

I don’t think there is quite enough space on the internet to list the number of generous, selfless acts my own mother has committed on my behalf, both recently and not-as-recently, so I have decided instead to focus on something very specific. Her devotion is perfectly encapsulated in the following image (and also in the picture above, which will seem less abstract when you read the next paragraph)…

She is perched on the edge of a hotel bed leaning toward the light on the nightstand. The rest of the room is dark so that my brother and I can sleep. She has just driven several hours toward this destination, or perhaps navigated us here from an airport. She squints through her reading glasses to coax the end of a thread through the eye of a needle and then the needle through the eye of a sequin. And then another. And another.

Just as it’s difficult to guess exactly how many candies are in a glass jar, it’s impossible to say how many beads she has already sewn on this costume (or on all the ones that have come before). But she wants to finish up that last row, even though, were it missing, only she and I would know.

Through this and many other examples she has demonstrated that, where kindness is concerned, many small things add up to something far bigger.

Thank you, Mom, for making me sparkle, one bead at a time. 

                                                               ***

What about you? We’ve already addressed the legendary amounts of chauffeuring skating mamas undertake on a daily basis (see Skating Mom Shuffle/Shuttle), but what else stands out for you? Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there.

Also, an update: I’m probably not going to open that restaurant, after all. Check out my piece on this topic posted today on one of my favorite humor webzines, by clicking on: http://www.yankeepotroast.org/archives/2008/05/eggs_on_the_bru.html 

Finally: Do your moods seem almost entirely dependent on the weather? There is a type of depression called Seasonal Affective Disorder, the acronym of which is, appropriately, S.A.D. But I have my own theory…click on Cusp of Greatness over to the right.   

The time has come to clarify something: I am not jealous of Kristi. The word ‘jealousy’ implies a certain amount of malice and this is not at all the case. No, what I’m experiencing is definitely more like ‘envy,’ which is a far friendlier beast.  

It’s not that I dislike Kristi, it’s that I want to be Kristi. This point gets hit home to me week after week as she cuts a proverbial rug (more like: shreds it) on the not-much-of-a-contest contest show called, Dancing With the Stars. I have excitedly viewed her Foxtrot, Tango, Paso, Jive, etc. thanks to the kindly and prompt posters at youtube.com. And if you haven’t seen her on the dance floor yet, I suggest you visit youtube as well.  

Truthfully, I have not watched the other contestants, though I trust they are equally entertaining for lots of reasons. I am mainly interested in watching Kristi because we have so many things in common. Wait, scratch that, we really only have one thing in common: we’ve both once (or a million times) laced up a pair of skates. 

As a result of following her performances and the fluff footage they’ve aired over the last month or so, I have come to the conclusion that, while I have many excellent qualities, I pale in comparison to Kristi in every conceivable way. Rather than feel bad about all this, I think it’s best in these kinds of situations to just come clean, to specifically define what’s really going on in order to really own it. This is why I have compiled the following list.

                                          Ten Things I Envy about Kristi

1. Her fame has reached the point where I can refer to her without using her last name and everyone reading this knows exactly who I am talking about.
2. Her ability to dance with sharpness, agility, and nuance…and move in a way that is vastly different from how she ever did on skates. (For lack of anything else to critique, the shows’ judges have repeatedly criticized her for not demonstrating enough emotion or passion while dancing, but this is an obvious attempt on the part of the show’s writers and producers to create the illusion that she has something to improve upon.)
3. The dreamy dresses the Dancing With the Stars seamstresses have created for her, not to mention the trim body they have to work with.
4. Her opportunity to dance with the nicely-sculpted, accent-wielding specimen that is Mark Ballas.
5. Her sporty, hockey-playing husband who, at least from this distance, appears to have all his original teeth.
6. Her ability to ingest many hot dogs in one sitting. (Okay, her success on the hotdog eating circuit was an April Fool’s hoax for the show, but even knowing it isn’t true, I still can’t help myself from wanting to be able to do this, now that she’s “demonstrated” it.)
7. Her cute little daughters rendered doubly adorable by matching outfits.
8. Her dignity and the sportsman-like way she comports herself in seemingly every waking moment.
9. Her competitive drive, which I have every reason to believe would translate to success in any field she tried to enter: High finance? Basketball? Competitive juggling? She could surely master any and all of these. 
10. Oh yeah, and her Olympic Gold Medal. 

                                                              ***

Here’s something I have that Kristi (presumably) does not: a parking space in New York City. Then again, she’s probably better off. Read why by clicking on Cusp of Greatness in the column over to the right.  

I’m not talking about the trip to the rink (though that can be harrowing as well). I’m referring to the trip around the rink. Navigating traffic on public sessions is one kind of adventure (see archived installment about Bryant Park) but it is something else entirely on freestyle sessions, mainly because everyone is traveling in a thousand different directions. Ten, twenty, and sometimes more skaters loop, circle, and switchback again, mostly managing to avoid one another.

If you were to perch on the rafters (like the birds who sometimes manage to sneak into the rink) and watch a freestyle session from an aerial view, what you would see is chaos of a highly organized variety. The way skaters swirl around each other while practicing jumps, spins, moves, dance and programs is kind of like a moving puzzle, each piece carving out paths with varying speed and predetermination. 

It is, to a degree, a thing of beauty. But watching a freestyle session is not for the faint of heart because in fact, when you look a little closer (or brave the ice itself) you will see that the pieces don’t always move together so poetically. Paths get regularly derailed, patterns interrupted. There is frustration. There are collisions. In fact, every few moments there are near-misses that would make professional stunt men cover their eyes. The real miracle is that there aren’t more injuries from skating accidents. It’s a wonder that every backward spiral doesn’t result in a beheading and that the ambulance doesn’t regularly have to pull up to the double/triple lutz corner.

Traffic is definitely a daily issue, crowded sessions or not. As one of my colleagues recently pointed out, sometimes the so-called “empty” sessions are more treacherous than the more densely populated ones because skaters tend to let their guard down. Competition warm-ups, which can have as little as only two to only eight skaters on them, can be especially risky due to the fact that skaters are so focused on preparing for their rapidly-approaching performances.  

Every skater copes with traffic differently. Some barrel ahead as if wearing blinders: the hapless individuals in their paths must either move or get flattened. Some skaters can’t contain their aggravation, frequently displaying rink rage. Other skaters constantly stop for everyone else, in the process never fitting in any of their own elements and therefore accomplishing little. Others are well-meaning but clueless, seeming to lack depth perception, often misjudging how close they are to gliding directly into someone else’s camel spin. Some just haven’t yet gotten the hang of steering; they see the traffic but can’t physically maneuver around it. Still others manage to find that balance of being both productive and safe. 

There are written and unwritten rules. Spins usually go in the middle. Double and triple jumps usually go on one designated end, and lower level skaters go on the other. Of course, dance, moves and programs require the entire sheet of ice. Lessons and programs generally have the right of way, but these are difficult things to keep track of from one half hour to the next and one month to the next, respectively. Some rinks and clubs provide bright colored pinnies or sashes of some sort to distinguish the person who is doing the run-through to her music, a tactic that seems to have varying amounts of success.

As a coach, you have to decide whether or not you want to brave these dangerous frozen waters. If you’re standing in the middle of the rink to watch your student, you are like a sitting duck, in danger of getting hit. If you sit at the side, you can’t always see your student’s jump or pattern from the ideal angle.

If you have a particularly timid student attempting one of the Junior Moves diagonal patterns…or attempting the backwards section of the Quickstep…or a student particularly prone to aggravation…or particularly ill-equipped to find so-called “openings,”…or a dance or pair team putting up a lift that could be especially hazardous to themselves and others…or a student trying to fit in her 455th double loop attempt in the last 10 minutes…in these cases, as a coach, you sometimes have to skate along with the student in order to be her eyes. This also creates power in numbers: for example, with my extra-wide, down-feather coat, I am the equivalent of about three skaters…and this tends to part the freestyle seas.  

The real challenge for a coach, wherever you are situated, is to watch your student, while also watching out for your student. You don’t want your skater to hit anyone or get hit, so you are in a constant state of scanning on her behalf, trying to keep your eyes one step ahead of where you know she intends to go. Simultaneously, you want to be able to see what she is actually doing so that you can advise accordingly.

Often, when danger is imminent, you have to yell out some kind of warning at the top of your lungs, usually, “WATCH!” hoping that either your skater, or the other skater, or both, will hear you and take heed by either changing course or stopping immediately. I have been told, by certain factions, that I am an alarmist in this regard. (Or, really, I should say “faction,” singular, who I won’t name, except to say that I’ve known him for a while and long ago he attempted to transform me from a timid skater who never got anything in to a more aggressive skater who should, quote, “hold her line” while practicing pair and dance elements.) It has, in fact, been suggested by said faction, that I may have my own issues with depth perception. He posits that I tend to yell out “WATCH!” when in fact two skaters are, quote, “miles away from each other.”

This may or not be the case but either way, I am unapologetic. In this, and most areas of life, I adhere to the Better Safe Than Sorry Philosophy and I believe that my students are still (for the most part) in one piece because of it.

But skaters don’t always have a coach to scan the rink for them: what about those times when they are not in lesson? What about when they don’t hear their coach’s startling warning shriek? What about when they don’t have their music on and when they have no pinnie? How can this situation be improved? I think these are important questions.

Many areas of the sport are benefiting from creative innovations in biomechanics, physics and exercise science. Likewise, with the help of the U.S. Department of Transportation, I am currently developing several new ways of controlling freestyle traffic. Once our proposal is complete, which I expect to be in the near-ish future, I will of course post it here for your review.

Thank you for reading and don’t forget to… “WATCH!”

                                                      ***

Are you curious how my real estate broker convinced me to rent my current apartment? Read excerpts from her brochure by clicking on Cusp of Greatness in the column over to the right.  

FYI, Here are the coaching expenses my accountant considered either “excessive” or not necessarily “essential” enough to deduct. For the record, I do not agree, but I am deferring to her expertise.

FYI, here are the expenses my accountant considered to be perfectly valid:

I have developed sudden-onset carpal tunnel syndrome from writing my check to the Internal Revenue Service, but as soon as this clears up, I will get to work on the next CSOM installment, which will be about Kristi’s dancing skills, or Sasha’s flexibility, or something else of skating significance.

                                                                 ***

Incidentally, this winter I was compelled to write a memo to my older brother. Read a copy of it by clicking on Cusp of Greatness in the column over to the right.

A Letter of Appreciation To my Adult Students and To the Adult Skaters of the World…

This week, while many adults are converging in Lake Placid for the 2008 U.S. Adult Championships, I would like to take the opportunity to express my sincere appreciation and admiration for your skating endeavors. For though, by definition, you are a bit “longer in the tooth” than other skaters and with that comes a whole host of challenges (including sometimes, tripping over your teeth), your excitement is evident, your enjoyment contagious, and your improvement impressive. Whether you are competing this week or not, your specific efforts in this sport (and contributions to my own enjoyment of it) deserve to be documented.

First there is your wacky schedule. Thank you for getting up when it is dark and coming to the rink while saner people still slumber so that you can squeeze in your skating before commuting to work. Thank you for arriving with a spring in your step and a smile on your face, and carrying your nicely-pressed work clothes on a hanger you hook on the ledge by the front desk. Thank you for coming to your lesson even though you were awake all night worrying about the fate of the planet or riding in an ambulance on your way to volunteer EMT calls. Thank you for scheduling your conference calls around our lesson and running over on your lunch break. Thank you for unloading your pockets and piling your cell phone, keys, blackberry, coins, and work ID on the barriers so that you are not weighed down by them while you skate. Thank you for driving to a rink that is far away from your home on your only day off. Thank you, by the way, for e-mailing me the notes you typed up after our lesson.

Then there is the issue of practice and your genuine understanding of its importance. Thank you for practicing with such earnestness and diligence of your own accord, without me having to nag you. Thank you for bounding over tall buildings and solving all kinds of logistical algorithms in order to get on the ice for even a half hour of 3 turns. Thank you for offering detailed reports (complete with spreadsheets and graphs) of your practice week including, with no small amount of guilt, the fact that you had to miss one day for a perfectly legitimate reason like assisting an aging parent, traveling to Chicago for work, or taking your dog to the vet so he could have that cyst removed from his nether regions. Though I’m not sure it was entirely wise, thank you also for coming to the rink even when you had a herniated disc in your neck, a mysterious golfball-sized bump on your knee, and even after you dropped a chair on your toe.

I have noticed that you are very good sports. Thank you for gamely re-taking tests when a panel of judges has suggested that you “Retry” them. Thank you for tracking down a skating skirt then debuting this strange garment the day before the test, as a dress rehearsal. Thank you for letting your eyes well with tears and hugging me in celebration of passing your first test. Thank you for persevering to get your Gold medal though the path to get those last four dances was seven years long and riddled with injuries (both mine and yours), necessitated several pairs of new skates (both mine and yours), and was interrupted by all kinds of a life obligations (again, both mine and yours.)

Thank you for asking me to explain the same element in 450 different ways so that you may analyze it from just as many angles. Thank you for forcing me to call upon the Laws of Physics, though I never officially learned them in a classroom and have only loosely picked them up as a skater. Thank for helping me to expand my arsenal of analogies. Thank you for understanding my sometimes odd vocabulary and also for, very appropriately, making fun of it “with vigor.” Most of all, thank you for laughing at my jokes (which I know has not been an easy feat.)

Thank you for subscribing to the adage that we should all try things that terrify us once in a while and for wearing your wrist guards along the way. Thank you for trying to conceal the look of abject terror in your eyes and attempting to appear relaxed by increasing the space between your shoulders and your ears (though I suspect you are still clenching your toes like little fists inside your skates.) Thank you for taking up a new activity in the search for personal fulfillment and, through your example, reminding me that I want to become fluent in French, learn how to paint something slightly more complicated than polka-dots, and maybe even try something like…clogging or…power-knitting.   

Thank you for so openly envying the way I demonstrate a line of outside edges because, later in the day, my students may not even notice what I just demonstrated, let alone be impressed with it. Thank you for showing interest in my skating background and for believing me when I tell you that all the videotapes of my performances were destroyed in a bizarre, tragic fire.   

Thank you for sharing with me your skating mantras, skating revelations, and introducing me to the rather kooky, yet also rather comforting concept of prayer skating. Thank you for helping me to appreciate the adventure that is skating and all the ways it instructs, informs, mimics, and affects other areas of our lives. Thank you for helping to provide Perspective, a commodity we can never have enough of, no matter our profession. 

Oh, yeah, and thank you for confirming your lesson! I’ll see you tomorrow.

Best, Jocelyn

                                                         ***

Check out my icenetwork articles featuring competitors at Adult Nationals this week: http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080409&content_id=47184&vkey=ice_news

http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080410&content_id=47308&vkey=ice_news

And something quite upsetting happened to me last week here in New York City, prompting me to write a letter of a very different nature. Check it out by clicking on “Cusp of Greatness” over in the column to the right.

Skating moms. There wouldn’t be any skaters without them. (This is of course true of fathers as well, but for different, generally more background reasons.)  

Skating rinks differ from baseball fields, basketball courts, and tracks in that there usually isn’t one located right in your neighborhood. They also cost just “a bit” more to use and require equipment of a “slightly” more specific nature. But mainly, to get started with skating, you need a ride to get to an ice rink. As you become a better skater, the quest to get more ice time takes you to the rink more often (sometimes twice per day) and sometimes takes you further and further from your house. And who gets you there?

Most often, Mom.

My own mother drove my brother and I to all ends of the earth to help us expand our skating horizons. This started with 20-minute trips from our small farm town in Wisconsin to a rink in Madison. Because this rink was mostly dedicated to hockey, we started to go to Janesville Ice Arena 90 minutes away, where there were lots of freestyle sessions after school. Along the way, our mother contended with flat tires, dead batteries, blinding rain, snowdrifts, sheets of black ice and an occasional deer prancing across or standing on the highway. Eventually, on Fridays, we’d even trek all the way to Chicago, three hours away, for ice dance lessons. One summer, we packed our white station wagon to the gills and our mother drove us from Wisconsin all the way to Colorado Springs to skate at the Broadmoor. Another summer, she took us to Lake Placid, New York and eventually to Delaware where we ended up staying.

This was before Mapquest, or GPS navigation systems. To prepare for those cross-country trips, our mother would go to the local AAA office and pick up a pile of maps. Late at night, on our kitchen table, she’d use a marker to highlight the route the AAA agent had recommended and try to memorize the highway names and exit numbers. My brother was an expert co-pilot, helping her navigate from the passenger seat. In the backseat, I’d inexpertly try to re-fold the maps once we were done with them.

She also catered every single one of these trips, both long and short, with a smörgasbord of snacks including most often: carrots and celery, cheese sandwiches, and a whole orchard of fruit. My brother could peel an orange so that the rind came away in one piece and I spent many trips either copying him or carving out smiley faces in their sides as if they were jack-o-lanterns. On rare but splendid occasions, our mother would pick up fresh donuts from the Gobles, a bakery on Main Street. Every time I came to the car after school, I’d anxiously scan for that distinctive white bag containing the best donuts in the universe (well, they were the only donuts I’d ever had - I just knew they were far more exciting than celery.)

Of course chauffeur-ing is just one of the many duties of a skating mom but it’s arguably the most time-consuming and definitely important. Woody Allen said that, “Ninety percent of life is just showing up” and this is certainly true of skating. At home, skaters can study lots of skating videos, stretch their muscles on the livingroom floor, and guide themselves through as many visualization exercises as they want (not that any of these things happen very much), but the most essential thing is lacing up and getting on the ice.

To this end, I see my students getting dropped off at the rink’s front entrance with their skates already laced, their guards on, and snacks in hand. Their mothers wave to me as they peel out of the lot, many of them on their way to run errands, or to head back to work, or pick up another child from school in order to shuttle him or her to soccer, religious studies, or even ice hockey at another rink. 

A few months ago, I had the opportunity to interview Bonnie Gilles about what it’s like to have three rising skating stars in their family in addition to two children pursuing other goals. Years ago, they relocated from Rockford, Illinois to Colorado Springs in order to train. At Nationals this year, Todd, who skates with Jane Summersett, placed 6^th in Senior Dance. Alexe won Junior Ladies and her twin sister, Piper, who skates with Tim McKernan, got 2nd in Junior Dance. Kemper, a junior in high school, is active in an educational program mentoring students with learning disabilities. Finally, Shelby, an 8^th grader, is a budding tennis player, who is also involved with school plays and musicals.

When I asked her to share A Day in the Life of Bonnie Gilles, what she provided (included below) reminds me of those silent movies where the characters are moving at double-speed, accompanied by frantic music, like Flight of the Bumblebee. I have a feeling that, while her story is on the extreme end of the hectic spectrum, lots of mothers have endured days of a similarly dizzying nature. 

In order to fully appreciate the following excerpt, it’s important to realize that, at the time, Bonnie was on crutches due to a broken leg, an injury sustained from shoveling her driveway. During the week, her husband works in Oklahoma and comes home on the weekend. She has had her car for about six months and already has 15,000 miles on it.

So…On your marks, get set, go!:

Get up in the morning, get dressed, and get the kids and the dogs out. Todd goes to his car, which decides not to work. Several calls to dad and a rush to get everyone into my car …call Tim, Jane, Tim’s mom trying to get to Tim, and their coach Patti telling everyone we are going to be a little late. Drop my car off because it needs an oil change and the head beam light button is going off.  Fortunately they give me a loaner. Go back to the rink, pick up the girls to get some essentials at Target. Run home to drop off some groceries. Jane has thankfully brought Todd home to pick up his books for his class later in the day. Try to start Todd’s car again. No luck. Bring Piper back to the rink. Watch a little while and then bring Piper to the tutor. The car dealership calls that my car is ready.  Pick up my car, go back to the rink. Headlight beam light goes off again. Call the dealership and they will bring me the loaner back.  Orthodontist calls and tells me Kemper has an appointment the next day, which I promptly forget to tell him.  Fortunately, the tutor brings Piper home. I pick up Alexe at 5 and proceed to go home and try to make dinner. The kids check the weather channel and it looks like snow for tomorrow. They are always hoping for a two hour delay…

And that is exactly what happens: several inches of snow and a two hour delay but the dogs haven’t gotten that memo… they’re barking at the usual time to go out. Kemper is trying to shovel the driveway a little to get the cars out. This is the driveway I broke my leg on shoveling. Everyone is running late again. Todd’s car still won’t start, so we pile in my car. Shelby calls on the way to school with Kemper to see if I scheduled a haircut for her then Shelby calls again because she remembers she needs a protractor and can Kemper please take her to Office Depot…thank goodness for Kemper driving.  They have time because of the school delay.  Piper just figures out that when I switched cars with the dealership that we didn’t transfer her skates or her laptop. Call the dealership and they are willing to drive to the rink and bring her stuff.  DEEP BREATH! Finally remember that Kemper has the orthodontist appointment so call him at school and he makes it in time. It is now 9 AM. The sun is shining now though and the snow is beginning to melt so I can buzz around a little faster. The girls and Todd have decided to throw a going away party for a friend, so it is off to the grocery store. I hobble in on crutches, get a battery-operated cart, and away Piper and I go through the store. Run home, drop off groceries, check emails quick, and back to the rink. It is 12 noon…                                                        

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Ha! Thanks to Bonnie Gilles, for taking time out of her action-packed schedule to share that.

So, where did your mom drive you? (Other than crazy, that is…)

And for those of you wondering how ”The Fate of Compulsory Dance” discussions went at Worlds (see installment entitled, Ice Dance: Crisis or Opportunity?), it sounds like the ISU is going to very likely downsize the dance to two events BUT so far, they have approved the idea of combining the Compulsory Dance and Original Dance into one. This has to go through a few more rounds of approval within the ISU, but tentatively, it is good news. Thanks to everyone who has written comments on Current Skate of Mind on this topic.  

Most humans learn how to walk by instinct sometime around the age of one. During this toddling stage they fall down regularly, slapping forward onto their little paws with their hindquarters in the air, or adorably plopping backwards onto their diapers. Of course, they don’t have far to fall and their competency with this new walking trick improves at an astonishing rate (especially in the case of my genius nephew). Aside from an occasionally slippery sidewalk, an ill-placed banana peel, or a few too many vodka tonics, once people get the hang of walking, they don’t fall down much.

Unless, of course they take up ice skating…in which case, falling becomes an occurrence almost as regular as blinking. 

As skaters, we’ve fallen in just about every way imaginable. Backwards, forwards, sideways, and (sometimes, unfortunately) upside down. We fall so often that we get used to it. It’s often said that we “learn” how to fall, in other words how to fall in ways that are less jolting and therefore less damaging and, to an extent, this is true. That said, there are still the falls that take us utterly by surprise and are so strange they could never possibly be replicated. There are falls that make us wince, take our breath away, produce tears. And let us not forget the falls that make us laugh hysterically.

Everything else in our sport has a name, so in hopes of contributing to this clarity, I’ve decided to categorize some of the more common varieties of falls.

The Splat: In this fall, usually best performed from forward skating, you hit the ice like pancake batter hits the griddle. In the more sophisticated version, there is an involuntary flip at the end. Afterwards, it’s difficult to identify a body part that did not make contact with the ice.

The Sidesaddle: This fall is the one most highly recommended for adults and simply involves sliding off to one side or the other with grace and dignity. The affected hip and wrist will never be the same, but at least you’ll still have your teeth.

The Bellyflop: This is one of the more exciting falls, often associated with the entrance to a Camel Spin. If the skater has temporarily forgotten that she is at the rink and not the swimming pool, this will surely remind her. Likewise, it helps to demonstrate the important scientific concept that frozen water is far more solid than warmer versions. This fall is rendered even more breathtaking because it literally takes your breath, outsources it to a foreign place that may or may not need it more, in the meantime causing you to wonder if your lungs (and economy) have collapsed.

The Timber: This fall usually occurs from a backward entrance. The body falls to the ice stiff and perfectly straight, like a tree that has been chopped down. Afterwards, you’ll scan the rink for lumberjacks to blame it on, but all you’ll see are little girls dropping like leaves around you.

The Geyser: This fall is unique in the way it first shoots you up in the air, causing you to momentarily defy gravity before you plummet back down. In order to get your money’s worth, stick around for the exciting grand finale, which is usually a full-bodied whiplash.  

The Jackhammer: In this vertical fall, your tailbone makes first contact with the ice with a velocity and force that shakes the entire building and causes the other skaters to cover their ears as they pass. Your spinal chord will continue to vibrate for days and the rink manager will wonder how such a large crater blemished his beloved sheet of ice. After examining the ceiling, he’ll rule out a meteor; but your absence for several weeks will make him suspicious.

The Pretzel: Many physicists have tried, but it is impossible to explain how skaters accomplish this complicated fall and likewise detangle from it. This human knot is twice as common and complex for pair and dance teams.

The Headbanger: This is a multimedia experience in that it’s accompanied by a very distinct sound effect. It’s a particular thud that can only be produced when a noggin knocks into the ice. The aftermath is also multifaceted: a welt of impressive dimensions immediately sprouts and birdies chirp while flying in dizzying patterns around your head.

The Slide: This is the fall that reminds you just how slippery the ice is. The biggest challenge here is steering yourself away from other skaters. In other words, you want to avoid impersonating a bowling ball hitting a strike’s worth of pins.  If the rink is particularly wet that day, you may create an equally dangerous tsunami and experience an uncomfortably moist sensation in the seat of your tights (or pants) for the rest of the session. While this fall happens quite often on the ice, it happens even more often in nightmares. Usually (if you’re me), you eventually slam into the barriers and wake up with a jolt, certain you’re having a heart attack.   

The Chin Splitter: This is arguably the most colorful fall and occurs most often as the result of bunny hopping or spiraling right over the toe picks. The good news is that there is something called butterfly bandages and their wings are very skilled at holding skin together. The even better news is that this is a skating rite of passage: as soon as you are initiated it doesn’t matter what your competitive successes or failures are, you are now part of the “in” skating crowd. Go ahead, look, everyone else has this scar of honor.   

The Surprise: This fall is not your fault. There is absolutely nothing you can do to prevent it and no way to see it coming. The ice quietly sneaks up on you, swiftly grabs you from below, and pulls you down. All of this transpires in a blurry nanosecond, so witnesses who were looking exactly in your direction will claim, quite honestly, that they didn’t see anything.  

The Slo-Mo: This is the exact opposite of the previous fall. This one seems to take forever and you’ll see it coming from miles away. You’ll try to flap your arms in an attempt to fly out of the situation, but this will only put you more off balance. In the meantime, your life will flash before your eyes. You’ll have time to wish you’d done all those good things like taken better care of your childhood goldfish… tape-recorded your grandmother’s voice… spent more time laughing and less time working. Mostly, you’ll wish that you’d invested in a set of those hideous-looking butt pads.

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What did I miss?

And here is  a link to some very good pads of the more inconspicuous variety….http://skatingsafe.com/allproducts.html

And, yikes, here is a link to some very nasty skating falls caught on tape. But don’t watch these if you are prone to nightmares…http://www.bootandblade.com/news/2008/04/06/eight-of-the-worst-falls-in-figure-skating

It has recently come to my attention that the ISU is considering downsizing Ice Dance from three events - Compulsories, Original Dance, Freedance - to two in order to make it commensurate with Singles and Pairs. This is a way to cut costs at competitions and it does make logical sense.

The problem is that most arrows point toward the eradication of Compulsory Dance at ISU competitions.

This would be catastrophic for Ice Dance and for the entire sport. As we saw with figures, their elimination from competition has resulted in extinction. If the ISU makes this decision when they discuss this topic this week at the World Championships, compulsory dances will be in similar jeopardy.

Taking compulsories out of the competitive “arena” will have serious, far-reaching and immediate ramifications. I write from the perspective of a dedicated ice dance coach who, in addition to teaching other aspects of skating, enjoys teaching compulsory ice dances and who has had anywhere from 10-15 students testing compulsory ice dances every three months for the last eight or so years. In that time, I have had a handful of ice dance teams in the competitive ranks.

I think it’s obvious that a new era of ice dance has dawned (here in the U.S., anyway). We have more ice dancers placing well in both Junior and Senior Events around the world than ever before. At Nationals this year, there were more spectators in the stands for ice dance. In fact, Senior Dance was a Saturday night, primetime event, sharing top billing with Senior Ladies. If handled correctly, this proposed downsizing could actually result in changes that would further popularize ice dance and benefit the entire sport. Eliminating compulsories all together is not the answer.

First, it’s necessary to ask the question: What is the most important factor in the continuation of this particular activity? What, in other words, does skating need in order to thrive? The answer is simple: Participation. The more kids who try skating and continue with it, the higher the level of competition, which leads to higher entertainment value, which leads to higher TV ratings and, finally to higher revenue for governing bodies. And the more exposure there is, the more skaters who are inspired to give it a try. It’s a chicken and egg situation: the ever-important bottom line is driven from both the grass roots (i.e. every local rink in the world) and from the top down (i.e. how compelling competitive skating and its stars seem.)

But in order for a large number of skaters to continue in a sport where the body type necessary to perform triple jumps (at least for girls/women) is becoming more and more specific, namely small, it’s necessary for there to be Options. This is why I am a proponent of both Ice Dance and Synchronized Skating, because a larger number of athletes and body types have the opportunity to participate and excel throughout their teenage years.

If I had never been introduced to the Dutch Waltz and then taken that test as an 8 year-old, it’s unlikely that I would ever had found my way to competitive ice dance in the first place, as a Preliminary then Novice dance team with my older brother. It is equally unlikely that I would have returned to competitive ice dance at the Junior level once it was clear that I was too tall for pair skating. It is probable that I would have quit skating at the age of 16 all together, quite possible that I would not have been drawn to coaching, and would therefore not be in the position to encourage more skaters to get interested in the sport and continue with it. And I was one of the fortunate few who had a built-in partner. It seems even less likely that skaters without partners (who might join up with partners in the future) would get involved with ice dance were it not for compulsory ice dance tests.    

One of the best parts about Figure Skating in the United States is this highly organized merit-based testing system. I can say that, as a former skater and as a coach, this series of achievable goals helps considerably to get skaters motivated and educated…in other words, hooked. No matter what skaters and their families have seen on television, it is the testing process that lends structure to those burgeoning dreams. Skating is complex and the skill set is cumulative: this is perfectly demonstrated through testing. 

In no other aspect of the sport is the testing process more effective, more-specifically focused, more rigorous and, in the end, more prestigious than in Ice Dance. The standards are high and obtaining a gold medal is extremely challenging. Many single skaters in my fleet, several of whom earn their gold medals in Moves in the Field and Freestyle, have taken up dance in order to improve their basic skating. These skaters will attest to the fact that mastering the requirements of silver, pre-gold, and gold ice dance tests is a serious undertaking indeed, requiring a great deal of practice and dedication. 

This is not a matter of comparing Ice Dance tests to Moves in the Field or Freestyle tests, because I think they all have merit. It’s a matter of identifying what differentiates Ice Dance from Singles and Pairs and how the compulsory dances contribute to that. These dances promote posture, edgework, power, neat footwork, extension, rhythm, performance, timing, and dance ability, the translation of music into movement, in both subtle and overt ways through knee action, facial expression, and body movements. The fact that these patterns have a specific layout on the ice and that they are accompanied by music is critical.    

Not only are the fundamentals of compulsory ice dances vital to performing accomplished, edge-filled and danced Freedances, but these skills are also becoming more and more essential to single skaters for step sequences, for overall transitional skating, and therefore for earning points in both their technical and component scores.

The same can be said for Pair Skating and echoed for Synchronized Skating. In fact, more and more, coaches of Synchronized teams are highly recommending and even requiring ice dance tests as a way to improve the ability of their team members and intricacy of their programs thereby increasing the competitive and entertainment value of this discipline. I dare say that, more than ever before, all parts of skating are recognizing and capitalizing on the specific skills of ice dance. And compulsory dances are the heart of this. If the ISU takes away compulsories, it will be harmful to the entire sport.

This is why I support the idea of combining the Original Dance and Compulsory Dance together as one event, literally combining them into one program. This is one of the innovative proposals of coach Bob Mock, Member of the National Ice Dance Committee. As he has recently pointed out, the Original Dance in its current form is really just another Freedance, and many teams use the same step sequences, lifts, and spins in both programs. But if teams were required to include one or two patterns of an already-existing compulsory dance into their choreography, this would have several happy consequences.

First of all, it would secure the testing process. In addition to all of the above arguments for this, it would foster the continuation of dance test sessions, which earn money for skating clubs. Second, if compulsory ice dances are couched amid original choreography, they will receive more exposure. Aspiring ice dancers would still have the opportunity to see their heroes performing recognizable patterns that they, too, have learned or will learn in the future.

Keep in mind that Single Skaters and Pair skaters attempt many of the same elements as one another such as Double Axels and Split Twists. In Freedances and Original Dances, due to the high level of innovation, there is less that is standardized and therefore recognizable. Keeping compulsory dances in the competitive realm maintains an essential sense of continuity between the lower and higher levels. (This, by the way, is the primary argument against those who would contend that compulsory dances could effectively remain in the background just like Moves in the Field. Beginner ice dancers need to be able to see some connection between what they are doing and what the dance stars are doing and this needs to happen in a public forum, in case they do not have high level dancers in their rink.) 

Furthermore, combining the two events in this manner would more firmly attach ice dance to its roots in ballroom dance: Foxtrots, Polkas, Waltzes, Sambas, Tangos, etc. In fact, the name of this combined event could be changed to something like Ballroom Dance, closely associating it with something that is extremely popular and experiencing a resurgence in our culture. Notice the popularity of the television show, Dancing with the Stars. Note also the increased tendency of couples to take ballroom lessons leading up to their weddings in order to smoothly perform that celebrated “first dance.” The term Ballroom Dance would also nicely differentiate it from the Freedance, which refers to a greater freedom as far as musical and stylistic choices. Alternatively, Bob Mock suggests that it could be called Creative Compulsory Original Dance (CCOD).        

Finally, it would be beneficial to offer more modern and appealing music for this new combined event. Perhaps the ISU could provide 3-5 songs with the appropriate rhythm for whatever dance is assigned for that competitive season and couples can choose from one of these. Or couples could obtain their own music as long as it has the number of beats per minute that correspond with compulsory requirements.  

Incidentally, over the years, I have had many skaters who have begged to work on their ice dances in their lessons or to learn the next ice dance. I repeat: I have students who beg to work on their compulsory ice dances. When time permits, and we spice them up ever so slightly with an arm movement or a bit of introductory or ending choreography, they are thrilled. Likewise, I would be remiss to not mention the large population of adult ice dancers who attend dance weekends, skate on social dance sessions, and who comprise a huge portion of the ice dance fan base. It would be a shame to lose this entire opportunity for figure skating enthusiasm. 

This potential downsizing is valid. The eradication of compulsory dances is not. Combining Compulsory Dance with Original Dance is the most logical solution. Think of it as The New Adventures of the Old Compulsory Dance: it brings compulsories more into the spotlight and lends a more standardized and recognizable aspect to original choreography. It is a win-win concept and one that I hope will be given serious consideration.

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If you are similarly concerned about this situation, whether you are a coach, a skater, a parent, or a fan, please pass this link onto others and lend your voice by leaving a comment below. Other ideas and suggestions are encouraged. The ISU is tackling this issue THIS WEEK so now is the time for members of the American skating community to be heard. 

Update, April 1, 2008: For those of you wondering how ”The Fate of Compulsory Dance” discussions went at Worlds, it sounds like the ISU is going to very likely downsize the dance to two events BUT so far, they have approved the idea of combining the Compulsory Dance and Original Dance into one. This has to go through a few more rounds of approval within the ISU, but tentatively, it is good news. Thanks to everyone who has written comments on this site on this topic.      

I recently had the audacity (or good sense, take your pick) to compare Wollman Rink in Central Park to a slice of pizza, thereby further validating my theory that all roads lead back to New York’s favorite food-on-the-go. But, truthfully, when I have the opportunity to skate at Wollman these days, I am reminded of more than just dinner. 

I have had the honor of sharing the majority of my Wollman experience with ice dance team, Isabel Elliman and Dmitriy Serebrenik, pictured above, who started and finished their seven-year competitive career together at this rink. To my knowledge, they are the only national competitors in recent history to train mostly outdoors. This is impressive for several reasons, and from a coaching perspective, it is unique indeed. 

For one thing, Isabel and Dmitriy skated before school, which meant that their training days commenced before dawn, at 5:30 AM, and therefore literally in the dark. Because I was afraid to trek into the park at this eerie hour on the mornings when I coached them to fill in for my brother, I would meet Isabel and her father beforehand so I could tag along with them. Rarely, in our 5-10 minute walk would we see anyone, let alone anyone threatening, but while we were chatting I was alert nonetheless, certain that we were going to get pounced upon by bears, or bandits, or the boogeyman himself.

Once safely delivered to the rink’s lobby, Isabel’s father wished us well then turned around back toward home where Isabel’s younger siblings would soon be starting their own days. Dmitriy was already in the lobby, stretching out his legs. He had gotten up at some ungodly hour, something like 3:45 AM in order to ride the subway in from Brooklyn. 

Once they were on the ice and were starting to warm up, and I glided around willy-nilly, assessing their knee bend, their posture, and commented accordingly. But I couldn’t help also taking in the scene.

There is something cozy about the fact that the Wollman ice surface is situated slightly lower than the grounds around it, kind of like a sunken living room. On one side sits the rink lobby, the roof of which serves as a public platform, so that, during more humane hours, passersby can watch from above. The embankments on the other two sides of the rink are lush with landscaping. When it’s dark, the trees and shrubbery along the barriers are lit from below, which creates a sort of mood-lighting, the equivalent, almost, of candlelight.

There are also the buildings of Midtown Manhattan just beyond the trees - The Plaza Hotel, The Trump Building, the Time Warner Building - all of which contributed to my sense of being surrounded and practically “hugged” by the city. Before 6 AM, these buildings had only a smattering of lights on in their grid of windows, a ratio that changed as morning progressed.

But for that first half hour or so, before morning broke, it seemed that the three of us were the only souls awake, and, in fact, maybe the only people in the universe. It was the good type of solitude, not lonely but peaceful, the kind you wish could last.

It was also extremely productive, however fleeting. I especially appreciated the chance to use the setting as a coaching tool. In my quest to get skaters to “project” to the audience (real or imagined) I often ask them why they would want to stare down at the ice when there are so many other interesting things to look at. The problem is that, in most other rinks, I have to sound excited and flourish my arm Vanna White-style toward a scenery that includes, for example… “The Home sign!…the Away sign!…those beautiful red lockers!…and how about that large beam!…and just look at those fascinating copper pipes!…” At Wollman, I could make this argument far less facetiously and pick out spotting points that really were of interest. For example, on the first side of the Golden Waltz, I could call out the words “Pierre Hotel!” and they’d both gaze up and out in its direction. Once indoors, at a competition, I’d say the same two words and get the same result, with a chuckle.         

What was even more pronounced than the visuals of that majestic setting at that hour were the sounds, or lack thereof. No horns yet honking. No brakes yet screeching. No cabbies yelling. No cell phones ringing. No trucks yet delivering ingredients to the pizza shops on every block. And relative to an indoor rink: no dehumidifiers blowing, no fluorescent lights a-buzzing, no motors churning. Just stillness, over-layed with the sacred sound of edges. That crunch, that bite, that rip we’re always talking about and aiming for.

This sound alone was enough to make me a purist. It was admittedly difficult and rare for me, as a competitive skater, to experience that simple satisfaction of skate against ice. I experienced it as a coach, several times, through the blades of these two skaters on those mornings.

Of course, from a training perspective, it wasn’t always nirvana. All skaters deal with a set of struggles and ever-changing variables: muscle cramps, blisters, cold, fatigue, the pressure of homework, growth spurts, inadequate equipment, crowded sessions, and the list goes on. For Isabel and Dmitriy, one of the most constant challenges was The Weather.

In fact, the first day they ever skated together, it was pouring rain. They skated through three inches of water. But they, like many skaters at Wollman, had a postal service mentality: they’d skate through rain, sleet, or snow (within reason, of course.) Sometimes, it was a matter of peering through the lobby windows, wondering if the conditions were going to improve or if we should just unlace and finish the lesson on the floor. Or it was a matter of taking breaks every 30 minutes in order to warm up, or to dry off in the shelter of the lobby. Sometimes, while watching them do a Freedance run-through, I’d brace myself against gusts of wind, get hit in the face with a leaf, and wonder how they were staying on their feet. It was an unusual sensation to see snow accumulating on my students as I was talking to them.

Of course, this made them, like most New Yorkers, very adaptable. At competitions, for example, they could roll with almost anything. Is the ice soft, hard, bumpy, filled with ruts? At least its not covered in leaves! Is the rink large, small, or shaped like a rectangle instead of a slice of pizza? They’d quickly acclimate. Is the rink freezing cold? Seemed like a sauna to them. I started to think you could throw almost anything their way - turn off the lights, turn on a wind machine, scatter pebbles on the ice - and they’d be unfazed. As a matter of fact, they’d probably manage to enjoy it. 

And this leads me to the most lasting impression I have of their partnership: that their mutual desire to skate came very obviously from within. After all, nobody would wake up that early to skate through the elements all winter, then travel over hill and vale to find clear freestyle ice to train on in the summer months, then push through the usual setbacks such as injuries and disappointments…nobody does all this, and so good-naturedly, unless they really love it. As a coach, dedication of this magnitude is something special to witness and to participate in. I consider myself fortunate, along with my brother, to have shared in such a unique partnership, fostered in no small part, by the unique setting.

Those mornings at Wollman would start off in darkness, but, on the clearest days, the atmosphere would gradually shift through gray to an icy blue, until the sun rose pink onto the buildings, accompanied by the sounds of the city. Next would come a burst of orange, shards of yellow, and an almost blinding white. Through all these shades of sunrise, Isabel and Dmitriy practiced a progression of Compulsory Dances, Original Dances, and Freedances - Intermediate level, then eventually Senior - before rushing off to school. While they enjoyed many triumphant moments at rinks around the country, and their lives will lead them to many distant corners of the world, I have little doubt they’ll always carry around with them that particular slice of ice. 

The last time Isabel and Dmitriy performed together at Wollman, in January of last year for an exhibition, it started to rain. This couldn’t have been more appropriate. This time, it was dusk. While the audience pulled their hoods over their foreheads and reached for their umbrellas, Isabel and Dmitriy were characteristically undeterred. They not only skated, but they smiled and performed their way through the drizzle, even as it gradually started to soak their costumes and their hair. As I was forced to do many times in their presence, I struggled to hold back tears of pride and admiration.

While Isabel and Dmitriy took their bow for friends, family, and fans, a surreal mist rose off the ice all around them. Or, if you subscribe to the pizza theory, you could say it was steam.

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Thank you for reading.