In the beginning there was... A bad skiing lesson
I meant to post this earlier in my post schedule, but it didn't quite fit into my HP format so here it is, late, my "origins" story behind getting into ice skating.
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I first encountered an ice rink the way most people do. You're 12, your parents take you, a little girl half your age cuts you up and promptly falls over right in front of you. Your blades are heading for her head; you have no idea how blunt rental skates are, but 12 year old you assumes you're going to give her a lot more than just a close shave. In a panic, you're forced to half-jump, half-fall over her and, incredibly, no one's injured in the end. Girl skates off like nothing happened and you start a blog 15 years later to commemorate the occasion (absolutely not why I started).
I don't actually remember the experience of skating that time though, just the seemingly dramatic incident, so I'm going to pretend my first time was two years after that event.
My family dropped by an indoor real snow slope up north for a skiing lesson as we wanted to give it a go. Turned out, I hated it. I eagerly strapped my skis on at first but I needn't have bothered as I couldn't get my skis to do even the basic exercises for moving forwards and stopping. I felt the instructor despairing as I struggled with the fundamentals and I came out of the whole thing feeling rather like he had strongly disliked me and I was a total idiot. We retreated to the ice rink on the other end of the complex as a commiseration prize.
It was a small, square rink and we showed up in time for the (empty) public session. I did up my rental skates and as soon as I put those blades onto the ice, after a few wobbles, I knew that this was where I was at home. It felt right, like I was meant to be there. I didn't crack out an Axel or anything, but in no time I was giddily one-foot gliding around without any trouble at all.
At this point I didn't even know what figure skating was, I'd vaguely heard of ice hockey but my brief touch with the world of ice stayed with me, quietly in the back of my mind, for many years to come. My family didn't live anywhere near a rink, so, while I went to another rink once or twice with friends, I didn't give it another real thought until I was 26.
In 2015-16, I arranged to have a day off from work every week to attend a counselling course at a local college to help move into a career I was more interested in. Unfortunately, due to there being too many applicants, they couldn't accept everyone from my course onto the follow-up course and I didn't get a place as I was young compared to many of my course peers - life experience is an important aspect of the training - so I had to shelve the training for a year.
Feeling a bit sad about having to do nothing career-productive for a year, I suddenly realised that I had a day off from work already agreed indefinitely and I could just go back to working five days a week... Or I could do something for me. What had I always wanted to do?
I looked up the nearest ice rink: a city that was two hours away by coach was the best option for price and travel time (that's right, two hours away was the most convenient option), and the details for their group lessons were easy to find. I approached my manager about changing my day off and she couldn't stop laughing at the thought that this was what I was moving my day for, but she agreed I could start the following week.
And that was it. The following Tuesday, I woke up at 6:20am and crawled my way to my town's coach stop and off I went.
Knowing what I know now, I wish I'd done it sooner!
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I first encountered an ice rink the way most people do. You're 12, your parents take you, a little girl half your age cuts you up and promptly falls over right in front of you. Your blades are heading for her head; you have no idea how blunt rental skates are, but 12 year old you assumes you're going to give her a lot more than just a close shave. In a panic, you're forced to half-jump, half-fall over her and, incredibly, no one's injured in the end. Girl skates off like nothing happened and you start a blog 15 years later to commemorate the occasion (absolutely not why I started).
I don't actually remember the experience of skating that time though, just the seemingly dramatic incident, so I'm going to pretend my first time was two years after that event.
My family dropped by an indoor real snow slope up north for a skiing lesson as we wanted to give it a go. Turned out, I hated it. I eagerly strapped my skis on at first but I needn't have bothered as I couldn't get my skis to do even the basic exercises for moving forwards and stopping. I felt the instructor despairing as I struggled with the fundamentals and I came out of the whole thing feeling rather like he had strongly disliked me and I was a total idiot. We retreated to the ice rink on the other end of the complex as a commiseration prize.
It was a small, square rink and we showed up in time for the (empty) public session. I did up my rental skates and as soon as I put those blades onto the ice, after a few wobbles, I knew that this was where I was at home. It felt right, like I was meant to be there. I didn't crack out an Axel or anything, but in no time I was giddily one-foot gliding around without any trouble at all.
At this point I didn't even know what figure skating was, I'd vaguely heard of ice hockey but my brief touch with the world of ice stayed with me, quietly in the back of my mind, for many years to come. My family didn't live anywhere near a rink, so, while I went to another rink once or twice with friends, I didn't give it another real thought until I was 26.
In 2015-16, I arranged to have a day off from work every week to attend a counselling course at a local college to help move into a career I was more interested in. Unfortunately, due to there being too many applicants, they couldn't accept everyone from my course onto the follow-up course and I didn't get a place as I was young compared to many of my course peers - life experience is an important aspect of the training - so I had to shelve the training for a year.
Feeling a bit sad about having to do nothing career-productive for a year, I suddenly realised that I had a day off from work already agreed indefinitely and I could just go back to working five days a week... Or I could do something for me. What had I always wanted to do?
I looked up the nearest ice rink: a city that was two hours away by coach was the best option for price and travel time (that's right, two hours away was the most convenient option), and the details for their group lessons were easy to find. I approached my manager about changing my day off and she couldn't stop laughing at the thought that this was what I was moving my day for, but she agreed I could start the following week.
And that was it. The following Tuesday, I woke up at 6:20am and crawled my way to my town's coach stop and off I went.
Knowing what I know now, I wish I'd done it sooner!
Wow! Incredible that you still went for it despite the 2 hour coach. That’s incredible! Being able to do something for you to develop instead of nothing at all is always a great decison. I’m enjoying catching up on these older posts!
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