Monday, December 5, 2016

Volleyball shoulders; Eyerolls; and Three Turns

Last week you may remember that I used a visualization technique to break myself of the habit of jerking my forward shoulder to make a FO3. I visualized that my shoulders were actually volleyballs. 

Meh, that may not work for everyone, but it really helped me. If I focus on the volleyball image, then my turn is smooth. I slip up now and then and forget the volleyballs, and my body falls back on old habits and I jerk the forward shoulder. In the main, 95% of the time, it works.

But while I can make a smooth turn, my coach wasn't happy with my back edge. "You've got a bad habit of dropping your inside hip, and bending your head forward. If we can break that habit, you'll be able to check that edge and increase your run out."

Why am I dropping that hip? I think it's because I drop my head. And that doesn't even have to be much of a drop. I feel my head is erect, ballet like, but apparently it isn't.

So how to fix that, I wondered. I came up with rolling my eye up to the top of the ceiling. I mean, so high that for a brief instant I can't see anything. I did this several times during practice sessions.

And yes it works. In fact it works very, very well. It helps me get my head in the correct position, and maintain my head stability. I won't use it every day, but it's a good technique to break bad habits.

So this week my coach hands me the glove of shame for my FI3  and she's right in my face. Volleyball arms-eyeroll-three turn. My FI3 are beautiful.

My coach was rather huffy with me and said in an offended way, "Why are you rolling your eyes at me?"


Oops.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

The PSA Loves the Ice Doesn't Care !

Love may be a slight exaggeration, but they did call out the Ice Doesn't Care in their monthly newsletter. Showin' the love, PSA, showin' the love...

But, but, that means actual coaches  read my blog!  I've got  the feels of happiness.



And what particular post got called out:  I have a Date with an Advil !




Saturday, December 3, 2016

I get my sense of smell back...at the rink

Back in 1980, I had a head injury and lost much of my sense of smell.  For decades the scent of the world around me has been muted, like looking at a beautiful sunset through a heavily tinted window.

Thursday night after group, we were gathered around the Adult Freestyle Circle of Fire, chatting away. 

Then one of the denizens of the hockey locker room opened the locker room door next to me and suddenly a tide of stench rolled out, hit my nose, and for the first time since 1980, I got a full whiff of reality. Skaters have told me about this smell, but I never...I mean, I really never comprehended..... as if I was blinded by a nuclear explosion of fetor, I compulsively yelled out...

"OH DEAR GOD WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL!!!"



It smelled like a dead cow, left to rot in a summer field,  wrapped in a plague, tied up with a bow of moldy jock straps, then covered in the mildew of scorn and the dew of despair.

The hockey player, a grown man on the farm team, slid out, head down and ran out on some errand.

We figure skaters spoke loudly about the odor, hoping our words would haunt him throughout the building. When he came back we continued  to belittle the filthy habits of the hockey team and yet we managed to do this while not paying attention to him at all. He had to thread his way between a bunch of women and one guy who were ignoring and insulting him at the same time.

We kept the loud discussion of filthy habits, and 'good luck' superstitions, going for a bit more. Then I noticed the door of the locker room had cracked open and a single eye was looking at me in terror.

I gave Bad Ass Ice Dancer a high sign so we could move down to the other end of the bench, and as we moved Bad Ass Ice Dancer made a loud and  pointed comment: "I once shared a locker room with the Wisconsin Badgers Green Bay Gamblers...AND THEY DIDN'T STINK!"

 Now that I've smelled it once, I smell it every time I go to the rink. I'll never be able to eat at the Cafe' again.


This is a corpse flower, with an odor of rotting flesh, apparently they're growing them
in the hockey locker room