Well, here's an update on my resolutions: not a single one has been taken care of. Passing the pre-bronze test has been advanced towards...sort of? In that I'm skating again? But cooking, off-ice training, and buying cowboy boots? None of these things have happened.
IN MY DEFENSE, I had surgery less than a month ago and my recovery has been slower than when I was younger, which my doctor teased me about when I was like "what's up with that?" Surprise, everyone! You don't bounce back from ANYTHING as fast when you get older! Sigh.
I am recovering, though, and am trying to make plans that involve getting back on that resolution train. Candice and I have named 2011 "The Year of Not Fucking Around Anymore, Seriously This Time". I have been stretching after I skate and trying to remember to take anti-inflammatory drugs before I go on the ice to help with pain.
So, on to the skating. I went back a week or so ago, and was really nervous. I was convinced that I had forgotten everything and would slide around like Bambi, weeping about my lack of muscle tone and embarrassing myself in front of the other skaters.
THAT DID NOT HAPPEN. In fact, I improved on some things! My inside 3-turns are a lot better and I'm jumping better, too! Yeah, that's RIGHT, people. I went back on the ice less than three weeks after surgery and mothereffing JUMPED. I felt like the biggest badass ever until my abs and thighs were like "We hate you" and got so shaky I had to get off and rest. I'm still rebuilding muscle, and I can't skate as long as I could before I stopped, but I'm doing really well. Plus, as a final braggy note, we signed up for Adult Basic 4 again, figuring we needed to really get the skills for it down before moving up to "Adult Workshop", which is where you learn the really fun and harder stuff.
Well! We have been moved up to workshop! We're too good for Adult Basic 4! I was so excited when the workshop teacher (who used to teach our Basic 4 class before we took a break) pulled me aside after class and was like "Um, you need to move up" and the Basic 4 teacher agreed.
Everything is going well. 2011, for real. It's all about not screwing around.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
Candice: I swear to God, I'm going to kick skating's ass this year
I mean well. I think that comes across, right? I pick up a challenging hobby like figure skating and I say, "I'm really going to dedicate myself to this." I make big goals about what I'll have accomplished with it in just one year, I make plans about how I'm going to increase my flexibility. I start a blog with my friend, and I make big promises to myself about providing regular, insightful, hopefully funny updates. Grandiose dreams of becoming "internet famous" (one step above being famous in a small town) without putting in much effort in ensue. The new year starts and I say, "No really. Diet Town. Population: Me." You already know where this is going.
While the blog and the diet (and the attempts to get more flexible) have all become cobblestones of failed good intentions on the road to becoming lazier, heavier and still inflexible, the skating, at least in part, continued. In the face of the holidays, social commitments, and well, let's say challenges at work, the temporary sabbatical from lessons unfortunately continued for the full 8 week semester. Thankfully a lack of lessons did not stop me from skating at least once a week. (It did, however, stop me from learning anything new.)
I'm happy to report that I've gotten even better at the things I was already pretty good at. The footwork sequence making use of all of my strengths can now be done at a speed that feels impressive (at least, I'm impressed). Forward crossovers, feh, easy peasy! Backwards crossovers? Much less terrifying and way more consistent. Outside three-turns? I can do a hundred of them before breakfast.
Oh but what about the things that I wasn't so good at? Inside three turns? Footwork that puts the emphasis on my weaker leg? Again, you already know where this is going. Don't patronize me with your insincere curiosity and I won't patronize you by pretending that they're not just as dreadful as ever. Despite all the good intentions, practice, and trying I've done in the past months, if there's one thing that I've learned it's that I'm more stubborn than myself.
Wait, what?
What I mean to say is no matter how many times I tell myself, "You're going to work on inside three turns until you've mastered them," the outcome never changes. I will get on the ice do a few, shaky half completed inside three turns and think, "This sucks. Not being good at something is way less fun than being good at something." Almost immediately I rebel against practice makes perfect, and rely instead on look what I can do! Unfortunately the same applies to nearly everything I want to do that requires discipline. See also: diet and stretching. Further reference: time management and my budget.
You might have noticed that the name attached to this blog is Verochka Grinkov. Verochka Grinkov is the name I decided should be applied not to my imaginary friend, but to my imaginary life coach. In my mind, Verochka is a solid, no-nonsense Russian woman in head-to-toe fox fur. Her hair is dyed the same aggressive red as her lipstick. She frowns at me constantly. Verochka is the voice in my head that tells me to shut up and skate, sighs in dismay when I have the fourth (or fifth, or seventh) cookie, and tells me to walk it off when I get an unexpected kick in the keister from life. If Verochka was a real person, my life would be in much better shape because I would probably be terrified of her. Alas, though, she is easily dissipated with a wave of my hand, leaving me to my cookies and lethargy.
Alas, Verochka Grinkov is not real, but there are figure skating that are. I've signed up for another round of lessons, and hopefully their polite but disappointed faces when they tell me to execute an inside three turn will at last shame me into trying harder at them. I'm hoping that with lessons blog updates will become much more regular, skating will become much more fulfilling, and progress will become much more quantifiable. All good things.
But you know, in that same vein, I should probably start calling my mother after every meal in order to get an approximation of Verochka's disapproval at eating the same soup for three days until I go crazy and decide life will only be worth living if I eat three tacos with chips and queso. Hey! Maybe I could even tape Martha Stewarts face to the side of my cats and be guilted into doing the dishes more often!
While the blog and the diet (and the attempts to get more flexible) have all become cobblestones of failed good intentions on the road to becoming lazier, heavier and still inflexible, the skating, at least in part, continued. In the face of the holidays, social commitments, and well, let's say challenges at work, the temporary sabbatical from lessons unfortunately continued for the full 8 week semester. Thankfully a lack of lessons did not stop me from skating at least once a week. (It did, however, stop me from learning anything new.)
I'm happy to report that I've gotten even better at the things I was already pretty good at. The footwork sequence making use of all of my strengths can now be done at a speed that feels impressive (at least, I'm impressed). Forward crossovers, feh, easy peasy! Backwards crossovers? Much less terrifying and way more consistent. Outside three-turns? I can do a hundred of them before breakfast.
Oh but what about the things that I wasn't so good at? Inside three turns? Footwork that puts the emphasis on my weaker leg? Again, you already know where this is going. Don't patronize me with your insincere curiosity and I won't patronize you by pretending that they're not just as dreadful as ever. Despite all the good intentions, practice, and trying I've done in the past months, if there's one thing that I've learned it's that I'm more stubborn than myself.
Wait, what?
What I mean to say is no matter how many times I tell myself, "You're going to work on inside three turns until you've mastered them," the outcome never changes. I will get on the ice do a few, shaky half completed inside three turns and think, "This sucks. Not being good at something is way less fun than being good at something." Almost immediately I rebel against practice makes perfect, and rely instead on look what I can do! Unfortunately the same applies to nearly everything I want to do that requires discipline. See also: diet and stretching. Further reference: time management and my budget.
You might have noticed that the name attached to this blog is Verochka Grinkov. Verochka Grinkov is the name I decided should be applied not to my imaginary friend, but to my imaginary life coach. In my mind, Verochka is a solid, no-nonsense Russian woman in head-to-toe fox fur. Her hair is dyed the same aggressive red as her lipstick. She frowns at me constantly. Verochka is the voice in my head that tells me to shut up and skate, sighs in dismay when I have the fourth (or fifth, or seventh) cookie, and tells me to walk it off when I get an unexpected kick in the keister from life. If Verochka was a real person, my life would be in much better shape because I would probably be terrified of her. Alas, though, she is easily dissipated with a wave of my hand, leaving me to my cookies and lethargy.
Alas, Verochka Grinkov is not real, but there are figure skating that are. I've signed up for another round of lessons, and hopefully their polite but disappointed faces when they tell me to execute an inside three turn will at last shame me into trying harder at them. I'm hoping that with lessons blog updates will become much more regular, skating will become much more fulfilling, and progress will become much more quantifiable. All good things.
But you know, in that same vein, I should probably start calling my mother after every meal in order to get an approximation of Verochka's disapproval at eating the same soup for three days until I go crazy and decide life will only be worth living if I eat three tacos with chips and queso. Hey! Maybe I could even tape Martha Stewarts face to the side of my cats and be guilted into doing the dishes more often!
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Kate - Reminding Yourself to Breathe In And Out
Well, I’ve had another break from skating thanks to the surgery. I’m waiting until my post-op appointment to go back to it and we resume classes on the 22nd, so this blog should be a lot more active then. We’ll have new things we’re learning and exciting stuff to talk about.
My surgery included some Very Bad News, which I am somewhat uncomfortable discussing here despite having discussed it elsewhere on the internet. Listen, I’m weird this stuff. So, let’s just say it’s going to take me some time to come to grips with it. It’s also kicking up the grief I have over losing my mother. I wish she were here so I could talk to her and get some advice.
She isn’t, though, and I can’t change the Bad News. I can only move forward, and I am going to start that by actually posting in this thing. I’m going to document my New Year’s resolutions. I used to not really make them, figuring I was just setting myself up for failure, but then last year I made one and it was “find a physical activity I actually enjoy and stick with it” and I DID! So, inspired by that, I made more than one resolution this year:
1. Pass the Adult Pre-Bronze test before December 2011 so I can start competing.
2. Start cooking at least twice a week like a goddamn adult.
3. Actually do off-ice training instead of waking up and being like "Oh, I suddenly...don't....want to." and then being lazy.
4. Finally stop dithering and buy a pair of cowboy boots. Seriously, I've been thinking about this for like four years. It's time.
Wish me luck! Hopefully I’ll be able to keep at least three out of four!
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Candice: 'elp, 'elp I'm being repressed
Come and see the condescension inherent in the system!
So I frequently forget that I have an actual, physical mailbox. I'm 99% sure that my postman wants to throttle me because I check it roughly once a month, meaning he has to shove more and more "Bed, Bath, and Beyond" catalogs into a mailbox already stuffed to the brim with credit card offers, and a many desperate reminders from Time Warner and AT&T that I could purchase a phone, cable, and internet package from them. Yesterday I decided to give him a break and check my mail.
To my surprise in my mail I found a magazine from United States Figure Skating (USFS) describing Basic Skills of 2011. I must have signed up for it somehow and not realized. The cover features two photos of Evan Lysacek, our 2010 Olympic Gold Medalist, competing in Vancouver (phallic snakes and feather cuffs and all) as well as the cheerfully simplistic motto "It's Great to Skate!" It is, isn't it? What wonders could be contained in this bit of propaganda?
The answer is a lot of short, unintentionally hilarious articles aimed at someone who is not a sarcastic 26 year old. For example, there is a piece entitled "Developing a competitive spirit can be rewarding and fun" with hints about getting ready for your first evaluation or competition. "Always have a back up copy of your music" which is good, sound advice. "Have fun and smile!" is also a classic mantra for young competitors. Then again it also says, "Ladies, allow time to dress and finish your hair and make up." I'm pretty sure Johnny Weir (demurely pictured in the pull out poster directly next to this article in his mascara and white fox fur beside 7 other men who are also wearing costumes with rhinestones on them) would insist that this is sound advice for figure skaters of all genders.
The magazine also comes with cut out flashcards naming some interesting basic skills. Seven of the nine cards feature girls performing the basic moves like forward stroking, mohawks, and spirals. The two cards that feature boys are "Hockey Stop" showing two boys in hockey skates, and "Forward Crossovers" the lucky card to have the only little boy in the entire magazine wearing figure skates (other than a cartoon, and a picture of a young Evan Lysacek). The message is loud and clear: Figure skating, it's really for nine-year-old girls.
Just to let you know, USFS, I got that message loud and clear when Kate and I were the only persons to show up to Adult Basic skating on a Saturday morning.
More than halfway through I get to a tiny little article by Brenda Glidewell which is the kind of obvious name I would expect from a JK Rowling character. (Get it? Brenda Glidewell glides well across the ice.) Anyway, she starts off with the argument that figure skating was "[o]nce viewed as a sport for the young" and she's already lost me. It still is, there's just a persistent, freak minority apparently. She continues later with a Beatles-esque truism "Even those who have never stepped on the ice, or skated infrequently in the past, can become involved in skating." True. Lack of prior experience skating does not preclude you from trying skating for the first time, and there's nothing you can find that can't be found.
"Skaters participate in skating for several reasons," she tells us some of which have been explored here in this blog. Stress relief, having fun or achieving personal satisfaction, improving fitness, continuing a love that began as a youth. More condescending is the "passing time while their children are in a basic skills class" providing a counterargument to her assertion that skating was only once thought of a young person's sport within her own article. More baffling is the "social networking" as I've explored in this blog that it's actual a pretty difficult little society to break into. "Way of finding fellow vaguely masochistic loners" would be a better description, but perhaps that's not suited for children.
"Skating ability is never a concern or barrier for participation." This is the exactly the kind of backhanded compliment I expect from my mother. "She doesn't really have the ability, but she tries and we're so proud of her for that." The USFS has branded us as mere participants. Also rans. Their motto: Any adult can (...try)! "The focus of skating as an adult is on the joy one feels while on the ice mastering new skills," she says. Sure! But I feel that this is a pretty bleak assessment of what the nine-year-olds are apparently doing on the ice. Can't they focus on the joy, too? Or must they all dream of being an Olympic champion and requiring knee surgery by the time they're twenty? Somewhere a Russian coach is screeching at a child, "Stop feeling joy at mastering the double flip and show me a triple!" Poor kid. Just wait until you're adult and the expectations get much, much lower.
Now after being so unkind I should point out that the last few paragraphs of the article are actually much more exciting. Rather than making excuses for the novelty of an adult skating, she talks about joining figure skating clubs, participation in competitions and and ice shows in a general positive and upbeat tone. Things that people might actually want to do.
I acknowledge that the parents of the nine-year-old girls who hope one day to have a Michelle Kwan or Sasha Cohen in their family are the people bringing the most money on the USFS. I acknowledge that the nine-year-olds will provide the next crop of stars for you to promote figure skating with. But in the words of Monty Python, "What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior!"
So I frequently forget that I have an actual, physical mailbox. I'm 99% sure that my postman wants to throttle me because I check it roughly once a month, meaning he has to shove more and more "Bed, Bath, and Beyond" catalogs into a mailbox already stuffed to the brim with credit card offers, and a many desperate reminders from Time Warner and AT&T that I could purchase a phone, cable, and internet package from them. Yesterday I decided to give him a break and check my mail.
To my surprise in my mail I found a magazine from United States Figure Skating (USFS) describing Basic Skills of 2011. I must have signed up for it somehow and not realized. The cover features two photos of Evan Lysacek, our 2010 Olympic Gold Medalist, competing in Vancouver (phallic snakes and feather cuffs and all) as well as the cheerfully simplistic motto "It's Great to Skate!" It is, isn't it? What wonders could be contained in this bit of propaganda?
The answer is a lot of short, unintentionally hilarious articles aimed at someone who is not a sarcastic 26 year old. For example, there is a piece entitled "Developing a competitive spirit can be rewarding and fun" with hints about getting ready for your first evaluation or competition. "Always have a back up copy of your music" which is good, sound advice. "Have fun and smile!" is also a classic mantra for young competitors. Then again it also says, "Ladies, allow time to dress and finish your hair and make up." I'm pretty sure Johnny Weir (demurely pictured in the pull out poster directly next to this article in his mascara and white fox fur beside 7 other men who are also wearing costumes with rhinestones on them) would insist that this is sound advice for figure skaters of all genders.
The magazine also comes with cut out flashcards naming some interesting basic skills. Seven of the nine cards feature girls performing the basic moves like forward stroking, mohawks, and spirals. The two cards that feature boys are "Hockey Stop" showing two boys in hockey skates, and "Forward Crossovers" the lucky card to have the only little boy in the entire magazine wearing figure skates (other than a cartoon, and a picture of a young Evan Lysacek). The message is loud and clear: Figure skating, it's really for nine-year-old girls.
Just to let you know, USFS, I got that message loud and clear when Kate and I were the only persons to show up to Adult Basic skating on a Saturday morning.
More than halfway through I get to a tiny little article by Brenda Glidewell which is the kind of obvious name I would expect from a JK Rowling character. (Get it? Brenda Glidewell glides well across the ice.) Anyway, she starts off with the argument that figure skating was "[o]nce viewed as a sport for the young" and she's already lost me. It still is, there's just a persistent, freak minority apparently. She continues later with a Beatles-esque truism "Even those who have never stepped on the ice, or skated infrequently in the past, can become involved in skating." True. Lack of prior experience skating does not preclude you from trying skating for the first time, and there's nothing you can find that can't be found.
"Skaters participate in skating for several reasons," she tells us some of which have been explored here in this blog. Stress relief, having fun or achieving personal satisfaction, improving fitness, continuing a love that began as a youth. More condescending is the "passing time while their children are in a basic skills class" providing a counterargument to her assertion that skating was only once thought of a young person's sport within her own article. More baffling is the "social networking" as I've explored in this blog that it's actual a pretty difficult little society to break into. "Way of finding fellow vaguely masochistic loners" would be a better description, but perhaps that's not suited for children.
"Skating ability is never a concern or barrier for participation." This is the exactly the kind of backhanded compliment I expect from my mother. "She doesn't really have the ability, but she tries and we're so proud of her for that." The USFS has branded us as mere participants. Also rans. Their motto: Any adult can (...try)! "The focus of skating as an adult is on the joy one feels while on the ice mastering new skills," she says. Sure! But I feel that this is a pretty bleak assessment of what the nine-year-olds are apparently doing on the ice. Can't they focus on the joy, too? Or must they all dream of being an Olympic champion and requiring knee surgery by the time they're twenty? Somewhere a Russian coach is screeching at a child, "Stop feeling joy at mastering the double flip and show me a triple!" Poor kid. Just wait until you're adult and the expectations get much, much lower.
Now after being so unkind I should point out that the last few paragraphs of the article are actually much more exciting. Rather than making excuses for the novelty of an adult skating, she talks about joining figure skating clubs, participation in competitions and and ice shows in a general positive and upbeat tone. Things that people might actually want to do.
I acknowledge that the parents of the nine-year-old girls who hope one day to have a Michelle Kwan or Sasha Cohen in their family are the people bringing the most money on the USFS. I acknowledge that the nine-year-olds will provide the next crop of stars for you to promote figure skating with. But in the words of Monty Python, "What I object to is you automatically treat me like an inferior!"
Friday, December 3, 2010
Candice: Noodling on ice.
It's harder than you might think. One of my many, many, many unrealistic expectations getting into figure skating was that I would quickly reach a point where I felt super comfortable on the ice and would be able to try little tricks. I'm pretty sure I was thinking, "I bet eventually I'll just try a twizzle and see what happens." Ha. (Ha.) In non-skating terms, this would probably be the equivalent of a four year old thinking that as soon as he gets his hands on a stove he's going to be Emeril Lagasse. Shortly thereafter the toddler discovers that the stove is hot and burns are no fun. To put it back into skating terms, shortly after getting into figure skating I discovered that falling and bruises are not fun. Seems obvious that it might take a long (really long) time to get the basics down before improvisation can happen, but hey, I'm only four years old.
It's not that I'm afraid to try things. There's no way to be on the ice for an hour and a half without trying things. But they're all things I'd had taught to me. A professional showed me a waltz jump, now I try it each time I go to the ice. My coach and I spent weeks on inside and outside three turns. The USFSA Basic Skills Program says my first footwork combination should be:
- 2 forward crossovers
- into a forward inside mohawk
- 2 backwards crossovers
- Step into a forward inside edge
As I said in my previous post about footwork, these moves are meant to be done on a circle. You move your feet, change feet, and the direction you're facing, but you never break away from the path of the circle. I talked about how I was doing this combination, slowly and with much terror, but there's not a day that I've been on the ice where I didn't try to get better. Just the same four skills, because it was what I was told to do, had to do in order to progress to the next (basic) level of (shaky) skating.
Challenging? Yes. Rewarding. Sure. Boring. Sometimes. Inspiring and creative? No.
I can't quite recall what made me think I could noodle around and improvise on the ice, but on Sunday for some reason I found myself thinking, "Man. Fuck circles," and decided to do the elements in what's essentially a straight line. Suddenly four elements became seven:
- A counter clockwise forward crossover
- into a clockwise forward inside mohawk
- a counter clockwise backwards crossover
- step into a forward outside edge
- outside three turn on the right foot
- step into a forward outside edge (repeated element)
- outside three turn on the left foot (repeated element)
- a counter clockwise backwards crossover (repeated element)
- step into a waltz jump
- stop on a backwards pivot
Changes in speed, edge, and direction, punks. These ten element, three of them repeated are executed with varying levels of skill. Some like the outside three turn on the right are awful, some like the clockwise forward inside mohawk make me feel gleefully capable. In my previous post wrote that every time I completed a successful run of the baby, four part footwork that I felt like I was closer to being able to express myself on the ice.
How do I feel now? Well. Smashing literally everything I know how to do together and pinwheeling my arms around in an effort to maintain balance isn't exactly expressing myself on the ice. It wasn't informed by how I was feeling or by music or by anything other than my desire to see what I could do with the basic skills I've learned. But it's a start. It took me a month and a half to feel comfortable to try something that was never shown to me nor prompted.
In another month and a half, who knows what I'll be trying to do.
It's not that I'm afraid to try things. There's no way to be on the ice for an hour and a half without trying things. But they're all things I'd had taught to me. A professional showed me a waltz jump, now I try it each time I go to the ice. My coach and I spent weeks on inside and outside three turns. The USFSA Basic Skills Program says my first footwork combination should be:
- 2 forward crossovers
- into a forward inside mohawk
- 2 backwards crossovers
- Step into a forward inside edge
As I said in my previous post about footwork, these moves are meant to be done on a circle. You move your feet, change feet, and the direction you're facing, but you never break away from the path of the circle. I talked about how I was doing this combination, slowly and with much terror, but there's not a day that I've been on the ice where I didn't try to get better. Just the same four skills, because it was what I was told to do, had to do in order to progress to the next (basic) level of (shaky) skating.
Challenging? Yes. Rewarding. Sure. Boring. Sometimes. Inspiring and creative? No.
I can't quite recall what made me think I could noodle around and improvise on the ice, but on Sunday for some reason I found myself thinking, "Man. Fuck circles," and decided to do the elements in what's essentially a straight line. Suddenly four elements became seven:
- A counter clockwise forward crossover
- into a clockwise forward inside mohawk
- a counter clockwise backwards crossover
- step into a forward outside edge
- outside three turn on the right foot
- step into a forward outside edge (repeated element)
- outside three turn on the left foot (repeated element)
- a counter clockwise backwards crossover (repeated element)
- step into a waltz jump
- stop on a backwards pivot
Changes in speed, edge, and direction, punks. These ten element, three of them repeated are executed with varying levels of skill. Some like the outside three turn on the right are awful, some like the clockwise forward inside mohawk make me feel gleefully capable. In my previous post wrote that every time I completed a successful run of the baby, four part footwork that I felt like I was closer to being able to express myself on the ice.
How do I feel now? Well. Smashing literally everything I know how to do together and pinwheeling my arms around in an effort to maintain balance isn't exactly expressing myself on the ice. It wasn't informed by how I was feeling or by music or by anything other than my desire to see what I could do with the basic skills I've learned. But it's a start. It took me a month and a half to feel comfortable to try something that was never shown to me nor prompted.
In another month and a half, who knows what I'll be trying to do.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Kate: I Wanna Taste The Tastes And Fix The Problems
I haven’t been skating recently. Today I am going back on the ice after an almost two-week hiatus, despite having had copious amounts of time off from work recently. I should have used that time to go skating and practice so that I don’t lose my mad skillz (by which I mean ability to sometimes do stuff and not fall), but instead I chose to spend my time in my PJs either on the internet, reading, or staring out the window feeling sorry for myself.
Why did I do this, you ask? I love skating! Skating makes me happy! It’s the only physical activity that I’ll willingly go do! What’s the problem?
The problem is this: I have to have surgery again.
Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I’ve talked about that before on this blog, briefly, but today I am going to talk about it a little more. I had five surgeries in six years and was on unpleasant drugs that made me miserable, but didn’t really do much to fix the problem. I spent my late teens/early twenties always worried about pain. By the time I had my last surgery, my doctor was worriedly telling me that he really, really didn’t want to do this, but if things kept on like they had been, I would have a hysterectomy by the time I was thirty.
Then, something crazy happened. I got better.
My last surgery was in January 2006 and they found NO endometriosis. I still had ovarian cysts, but those are more manageable. I was even able to stop taking hormonal birth control for a while and have totally normal cycles. I barely even had to take painkillers! I had a couple of scares, but everything has been fine for four years.
Recently, though, things have gotten a lot more painful. I knew that something was wrong, but ignored it for a while, hoping against hope that it would go away. Finally, though, I realized I had to face it and I went to the doctor. I described what’s been happening, he did an exam, we sat and talked for a long time about my options and my medical history. We even went back through my file to see what things had been like in the past. This surgery is not a choice I made lightly, but it’s what needs to be done. I was really sad and basically retreated for a couple of weeks, going back to old escapism habits (reading, internet, cookies) and avoiding skating because the pain interferes with it sometimes and I find that really upsetting.
I’m going skating this afternoon, though. It’s time to stop sitting around feeling sorry for myself and go back to doing things that make me feel good physically as well as mentally. Things might be getting tough with my health, but that’s all the more reason to stick with something that helps me be healthier. I am on a break from lessons right now, but I’m going back to skating at least three times a week. It will help me to feel better about myself and the current stresses life is throwing at me.
Why did I do this, you ask? I love skating! Skating makes me happy! It’s the only physical activity that I’ll willingly go do! What’s the problem?
The problem is this: I have to have surgery again.
Ten years ago, I was diagnosed with endometriosis. I’ve talked about that before on this blog, briefly, but today I am going to talk about it a little more. I had five surgeries in six years and was on unpleasant drugs that made me miserable, but didn’t really do much to fix the problem. I spent my late teens/early twenties always worried about pain. By the time I had my last surgery, my doctor was worriedly telling me that he really, really didn’t want to do this, but if things kept on like they had been, I would have a hysterectomy by the time I was thirty.
Then, something crazy happened. I got better.
My last surgery was in January 2006 and they found NO endometriosis. I still had ovarian cysts, but those are more manageable. I was even able to stop taking hormonal birth control for a while and have totally normal cycles. I barely even had to take painkillers! I had a couple of scares, but everything has been fine for four years.
Recently, though, things have gotten a lot more painful. I knew that something was wrong, but ignored it for a while, hoping against hope that it would go away. Finally, though, I realized I had to face it and I went to the doctor. I described what’s been happening, he did an exam, we sat and talked for a long time about my options and my medical history. We even went back through my file to see what things had been like in the past. This surgery is not a choice I made lightly, but it’s what needs to be done. I was really sad and basically retreated for a couple of weeks, going back to old escapism habits (reading, internet, cookies) and avoiding skating because the pain interferes with it sometimes and I find that really upsetting.
I’m going skating this afternoon, though. It’s time to stop sitting around feeling sorry for myself and go back to doing things that make me feel good physically as well as mentally. Things might be getting tough with my health, but that’s all the more reason to stick with something that helps me be healthier. I am on a break from lessons right now, but I’m going back to skating at least three times a week. It will help me to feel better about myself and the current stresses life is throwing at me.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Candice: The Difference Between Doing, Trying, and Trying to Try
The other day my beloved coach who is not actually my coach full on Yoda-ed me. He basically gave me a fifteen second lesson that amounted to "Do or do not. There is no try."
While I'm not going to argue with Yoda or my beloved not-coach but there has always been something about this statement that irked me. Probably this is because an awful lot of my life spent trying, rather than doing. If my successes are only ever measured by accomplishment, that leaves me with a somewhat slim curriculum vitae, let's say.
The list of things that I have tried in figure skating is nice and long. It sits there, each attempted item highlighted, next to my computer at work. It starts from the embarrassingly simple: "Sit on ice and stand up" to the much more impressive "Waltz jump." It makes me smile to look over and see that more thing are highlighted now than not. But it's a huge bummer to think of how many of those things I can actually do well.
With the holidays I have taken a brief hiatus from official lessons. It's difficult to know when my Saturdays are free, and while I generally love spending money on myself Christmas is nigh and I'd like to make people presents this year instead of gleefully announcing, "I can do a scratch spin!" and expecting them to be as happy. The break from lessons makes good sense, but it's hard not to feel as though I'm stagnating, because that good feeling from trying something new is now gone for a while.
That means it's time to start actually doing things well. Where's the fun in that. A try is a try. It can fail or succeed and you get points for attempting something new. Doing means you have to face the fact that you still get a little tripped on counter clockwise backwards crossovers. (There's an angry bruise on my left buttcheek attesting to this fact.) Or friggin' edge pulls/power pulls. I've tried to achieve a ripping sound dozens of times. I've done it not even once. Doing means dealing with being disappointed by failure.
As in skating, so in life. I've been "trying" to explore the job market. I've been "trying" to remember to stretch everyday. I've been "trying' to eat right. This is, I've been trying if "trying" means "thinking regularly about how I need to that." I don't know what is stopping me, but I'd venture a guess that the prime candidates are "forgetfulness" "fatigue" and "fried foods."
Some things have definitely improved. Going clockwise my footwork sequence has improved, (counter clockwise, eh, let's not talk about it). Inside 3-turns are now happening instead of stubbornly refusing to happen (they're just really ugly and shaky). I've even started using music to help me get into the mood to practice stroking. Snazzy. But all of this is still kid's stuff in the end. When I was just "trying" I could pretend I was getting ever closer to the big leagues (double axel, here I come!)
I was also recently told that testing for Adult Pre-Bronze may well take two months of private coaching.I think I can do it in one but that still means that I'll be looking at Spring of 2011 instead of this year. That will in fact bring this blog up to a year, but I'd rather hoped that a year anniversary of this blog would feature me and Kate throwing the deuces at the end of a video which showed us doing some pretty slick skating. Not with us posting a certificate showing that we can do acceptable 3-turns.
Who knows, maybe some slick skating is on the horizon after all. I'm going to my Thursday practice tonight to keep doing, and keep thinking about what mastering these things will allow me to at least try. Though I admit that I do sort of wish I could strap a green muppet to my back that would squawk at me from time to time "Named must your fear be before banish it you can!"
While I'm not going to argue with Yoda or my beloved not-coach but there has always been something about this statement that irked me. Probably this is because an awful lot of my life spent trying, rather than doing. If my successes are only ever measured by accomplishment, that leaves me with a somewhat slim curriculum vitae, let's say.
The list of things that I have tried in figure skating is nice and long. It sits there, each attempted item highlighted, next to my computer at work. It starts from the embarrassingly simple: "Sit on ice and stand up" to the much more impressive "Waltz jump." It makes me smile to look over and see that more thing are highlighted now than not. But it's a huge bummer to think of how many of those things I can actually do well.
With the holidays I have taken a brief hiatus from official lessons. It's difficult to know when my Saturdays are free, and while I generally love spending money on myself Christmas is nigh and I'd like to make people presents this year instead of gleefully announcing, "I can do a scratch spin!" and expecting them to be as happy. The break from lessons makes good sense, but it's hard not to feel as though I'm stagnating, because that good feeling from trying something new is now gone for a while.
That means it's time to start actually doing things well. Where's the fun in that. A try is a try. It can fail or succeed and you get points for attempting something new. Doing means you have to face the fact that you still get a little tripped on counter clockwise backwards crossovers. (There's an angry bruise on my left buttcheek attesting to this fact.) Or friggin' edge pulls/power pulls. I've tried to achieve a ripping sound dozens of times. I've done it not even once. Doing means dealing with being disappointed by failure.
As in skating, so in life. I've been "trying" to explore the job market. I've been "trying" to remember to stretch everyday. I've been "trying' to eat right. This is, I've been trying if "trying" means "thinking regularly about how I need to that." I don't know what is stopping me, but I'd venture a guess that the prime candidates are "forgetfulness" "fatigue" and "fried foods."
Some things have definitely improved. Going clockwise my footwork sequence has improved, (counter clockwise, eh, let's not talk about it). Inside 3-turns are now happening instead of stubbornly refusing to happen (they're just really ugly and shaky). I've even started using music to help me get into the mood to practice stroking. Snazzy. But all of this is still kid's stuff in the end. When I was just "trying" I could pretend I was getting ever closer to the big leagues (double axel, here I come!)
I was also recently told that testing for Adult Pre-Bronze may well take two months of private coaching.I think I can do it in one but that still means that I'll be looking at Spring of 2011 instead of this year. That will in fact bring this blog up to a year, but I'd rather hoped that a year anniversary of this blog would feature me and Kate throwing the deuces at the end of a video which showed us doing some pretty slick skating. Not with us posting a certificate showing that we can do acceptable 3-turns.
Who knows, maybe some slick skating is on the horizon after all. I'm going to my Thursday practice tonight to keep doing, and keep thinking about what mastering these things will allow me to at least try. Though I admit that I do sort of wish I could strap a green muppet to my back that would squawk at me from time to time "Named must your fear be before banish it you can!"
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