Ice Ice Baby

Figure skating's origins trace back directly to an American named Jackson Haines who was born in New York in 1840.(http://www.usfsa.org) Well obviously I have not been skating since 1840 because that would be impossible. It has had a pretty huge impact in my life. My interest for skating sparked when I was around five years old and I saw people skating on TV during Christmas at the Rockefeller Center in New York. I asked my dad what they were doing and I wanted to try it. So the next day he signed me up for lessons. After my first lesson I had this feeling inside like that is what I was meant to do.

I was very motivated to work hard everyday to be the best I could. It was a strenuous commitment that I was willing to take. I woke up every morning at four to go skating before school. People would always ask me, "isn't it hard to wake up that early every morning?" and I would say, "yes, but when you do something you love, it's worth it." It's worth waking up at crazy times, going through all that stress to become a better skater. I would do the same routine every morning. Wake up, get ready, go to the rink, skate for three hours, change, and go to school. I would get tired and stressed and at times I would ask my self, "why am I doing this? I want to quite, and sleep with a normal schedule." No matter how many times I said this, I never quit.

I did not quit, I did not give up. Until one morning. Everyone was getting ready for the up coming competition, including me. I went through my program and everything seemed okay. Then I went into a jump, known as a double-flip. I felt fine in the air, then I landed the jump in a funny way and heard a pop in my ankle, and I went down. I skated off and my ankle looked like a golf ball. I went to the doctors and they said I had a stress fracture in my growth plate. I had to wear a cast for four weeks. However, I was in a boot for five months. 

After I healed I was very eager to get back on the ice. When I did, nothing felt the same. I felt as if I did not belong there, as if I was an outcast. My friends were still there for me and supported me with all that I did, but it still felt weird. An outcast in the only place I felt I belonged. It felt horrible, as though I was never meant to be here in the first place.

I eventually got over this feeling of not belonging. However, I never got back into skating. What I miss most is the way I used to feel. Skating used to feel like I was the only person in the universe. It was just me and the ice. I tried again and again to skate, but it never worked out. Then school got in the way, and I started cross country. However, that did not go so well because I am injured again with a torn ligament in my ankle. I guess I am just a walking accident waiting to happen.