Someone Has To Finish Last

 

Vail Invitational 2017 – Adult Silver Free Skate

Yes, I love to figure skate, but who wants to finish last? Not me, not anyone. However, when you compete, someone is going to come in last. Yesterday, it was I. Damn! I knew I didn’t skate my best; I fumbled an important (in terms of the competition) jump combination and faked my way through part of my footwork. I finished strong with a decent salchow-loop jump combination and final sit spin, but overall it was not good enough.

I could make excuses – I didn’t sleep well because of the altitude (Vail is at 8,200 feet elevation); the ice was soft and therefore I was slow. All true. I could blame my coach, but she didn’t skate – I did. I could complain about the judges’ scoring, but they judge what they see. I could pick apart the other competitors’ performances, but that would be unkind and untrue. They skated beautifully.

Finishing last sucks. As my daughter said, “uber sucks.” However, she helped me get some perspective when she wondered how many 60-year-olds are competitive adult figure skaters? Not many. How many 60-year-olds are competitive athletes?

Yesterday, long after I’d skated, a woman asked me how it went. I said, “I came in last.”

“But did you have fun?” she asked.

“Yes, but it still stings,” I answered.

“It’s just a number,” she went on. “When Shelby (Lyons) was a little girl, she came in last all the time. She was so short she couldn’t read the score sheets, so we just told her the number, 4, 9, whatever.”

I did not realize I was talking to Shelby Lyons’ mother. Shelby, a wonderful coach at our rink, is a retired U.S. national medalist in both singles and pairs. She was the U.S. junior women’s national champion in 1996. Wow.

I came. I competed. I didn’t fall on my rump. Shelby and her mom said I skated well. That makes me feel better. My husband, my friends, and my coach are proud of me. That makes me smile. My husband said I’m beautiful (not a make-up wearer usually and had a new lipstick for the competition), but he’s funny that way. He loves me just the way I am.

My friends skated well, maybe even a couple personal bests. Hugs and high fives all around. I finished the day with delicious food and great conversation with friends, then a well-needed soak in the condo’s hot tub.

So, how did I do? I skated well and finished seventh.

For the Love of It

 

Practice, practice, practice . . .

Amateur – Doing something for the love of it, generally considered unpaid.

April 2017 – third place

I am an amateur, competitive, adult figure skater. I skate because I love to skate. I take skating tests and compete because of the challenge. The challenge to push my 60-year-old body to jump, spin, and glide on a sheet of very cold, very hard ice. I have skated for over 40 years. I have committed untallied dollars in my pursuit of this sport. Most days, I feel it is a small price for the sheer joy of accomplishing a centered spin, a jump landed on one foot (the correct one), and remembering a difficult footwork sequence.

I have friends filled with the same joy and we share the training challenges together. We have husbands, friends, and family that embrace our passion and love us for engaging in this sport. We have others that will never understand us – at all. They might say, “Why? Do you do this for a shiny medal or a colored ribbon?” They try to relate a love, a passion in professional or paid terms.

I am an amateur skater, but I am far from amateurish. I am far from unpaid. I am seriously committed to the joy. I’m paid with the exuberance I feel when I skate well. Paid with high-fives with friends and cheers while I compete. Paid with understanding help when practices don’t go as well as I planned in my mind. And yes, there are shiny medals and sparkly dresses. I admit that I’m part magpie and I do like the shiny rewards.

In April 2015, I competed in my first U.S. Adult National Championship event. I was skilled (or lucky, depending on how I choose to look at it on any given day) enough to win a bronze and silver medal. When I stepped up on the podium and the bronze medal placed over my head, a man in the crowd taking photos said, “You are a national medalist and no one can ever take that away from you.” Chills ran up my spine. All that love and joy.

I am competing this weekend (July 15, 2017) in Vail, Colorado. There are a remarkable seven competitors in my free skate event. That’s unusual for a local competition. I’m competing for the joy and freedom I feel when I step on the ice. Wish me (and my friends) luck!