Kristi: I am Not Jealous
April 29, 2008
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
- 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.
- 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.)
- The dreamy dresses the Dancing With the Stars seamstresses have created for her, not to mention the trim body they have to work with.
- Her opportunity to dance with the nicely-sculpted, accent-wielding specimen that is Mark Ballas.
- Her sporty, hockey-playing husband who, at least from this distance, appears to have all his original teeth.
- 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.)
- Her cute little daughters rendered doubly adorable by matching outfits.
- Her dignity and the sportsman-like way she comports herself in seemingly every waking moment.
- 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.
- 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.
The Traffic Issue
April 22, 2008
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.
Very Taxing
April 15, 2008
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.
| Coffee: | $75,432.21 |
| Donuts: | $1,643.07 |
| Mittens: | $928.53 |
| Long Johns Composed of Hi-Tech Fibers: | $4,631.82 |
| Scarves in Every Color of the Rainbow and Some Colors that Haven’t Been Officially Inducted: | $22,967.58 |
| Deep Tissue Massages: | $43,722.71 |
| Psychoanalysis to Examine Long-held Guilt Regarding Donuts: | $35,226.68 |
| Speech Therapy to Rehabilitate Vocal Chords Damaged by Instructing Skaters over Loud Rink Music: | $19,863.53 |
| Cosmetic Surgery and Botox for Deformed Feet: | $14,649.99 |
| Special Eyeglasses Designed to Decrease Glare from Rink Florescent Lights: | $4,555.62 |
| Office Supplies Decorated with Polka Dots Including Travel Expenses Across Country to Track Them Down: | $12,761.74 |
| Movie-Going for Music Research Including Popcorn with Extra “Butter” for Nourishment: | $52,433.88 |
FYI, here are the expenses my accountant considered to be perfectly valid:
| Gas Mileage from Rink to Rink: | $4,655,627.41 |
| Weekly Skating Blog: | $0.00 |
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.
Dear Adults,
April 8, 2008
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 Mom Shuffle / Shuttle
April 1, 2008
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 6th 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 8th 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…
***
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.
