I zip down the ice in what I hope is appropriate ice dance stroking. I look left when stroking left, right when stroking right. I get down in the knee--and stay there. I hold my free leg extended and I keep my chin up in the "I'm Queen of the Rink" ice dance look. I'm told to hold my hands more forward.
Dance Coach then takes me in Killian hold and we stroke down the rink. "Good. Can you do it with more power?"
I grimace. Nothing scares me more than those two words, 'More power'. I had been going as fast as I felt comfortable with. I say, "I'm going all whiny on you. I'm too old."
This amuses Dance Coach. "No whiny. Do again with more power."
We line up again in Killian, and I stroke with all the power I've got. My posture is just perfect against his right arm; my knee bend is good and my edges solid; my extension is as close to perfect as I can make it.
We zip down the center, avoiding the kids on public, hockey boys teaching their girlfriends how to skate, and a couple of low level freestylers in the center. At the end, Dance Coach raises his hand "High five!"
We slap gloves and he adds, "You had the flow of a 16 year old."
|Bask in my glory!!!|
Dance Coach strokes his chin, "Thirty-five."
Not bad. Not bad, at all, for 60.
The rest of the lesson has some highlights which I won't go into, it was a good lesson.
At the end of the lesson I ask Dance Coach, "Did you tell me flow and power of a 16 year old? Or just flow?"
"Just flow, you need more power."
This picture shows how I feel things will end up when I finally get enough power to make Dance Coach happy. He's (metaphorically) on the left, I'm on the right.
|That's me on the right. Wheeee!|