Have You Ever Seen Pure Joy in a Face?

I have just returned from Salt Lake City, after bringing my daughter out to join Mike Kooreman's New Edge team at the Olympic Oval, and get her ready to begin her college career at the University of Utah. Sending my son to college several years ago was hard. Sending my daughter, my youngest, is no easier. Still, we had a wonderful four day trip together, seeing the Field of Dreams in Iowa, and looking for Shoeless Joe in the corn fields (see photo--is it a ghost, or just me?); eating a great steak in Omaha; going to Chimney Rock NP Nebraska (see photo of Liz cycling past Chimney Rock); to Fort Laramie (color me surprised to find that it was an open layout, and not surrounded by log walls as in the movies); and to Fort Bridger, Wyoming and a few other spots along the Oregon and Mormon Trails. Seeing the most amazing lightning storm near North Platte NE. A wonderful dinner at an organic restaurant Liz picked in Laramie WY called Jeffrey's was a highlight, too. Our first trip west without a plane--I had no real idea of the vastness...sure glad we could share driving! I hope Liz had half as much fun as I did and will remember it with as much pleasure. In any event, it was Monday morning, at 6:15 at the Utah Olympic Oval. From the bleachers, I watched my daughter take to the ice for the first time with her new teammates. NEVER have I seen a face so happy, so excited. My daughter is where she needs to be. A chance to take her sport to a new level. Quite apart from my hopes for her, I am proud to see her reach for the brass ring.

dryland is not ice

At this time of year in my area, hockey rules, and ice time gets scarce for figures, nonexistent for short track. So notwithstanding on land work, the gap of ten days between figure skating sessions was pretty obvious. Muscle memory seems woefully short term, and basic building block moves felt tentative and awkward for the first half hour. What a relief when, at last, the edges felt right, the leans more natural in the second part of the skate.

The Second Season

It is dry land training time. Intense Tuesday workouts. Sore muscles two days later. But having had so much fun as a first year speed skater at 57, and had so much acceptance from others, on home ice but also in Pittsburgh and Cleveland and Syracuse and other venues, I am anxious to do it again, but better. We'll see . At a time trial near the end of last season, Mitch Connelly of Rochester Speed Skating teased that he was "only" twice as fast as me at 500m (but he was recovering from a tib/fib fracture and I had no such excuse other than being "slightly" older.). I learned that in speed skating, there is room for everyone. When on ice, its almost zen....the world narrows down to the contact of blade and ice, and to a spot on the ice about 15 feet ahead. But at practice, each muscle just yells "are you nuts?" And always the nagging question: why is it so much easier to do crossovers in figure skates than it is on short track blades?