Friday, August 10, 2012


A few weeks ago Dance Coach told me "You have the flow of a 16 year old."

Despite the eyerolling of my adult ice dance friends, I'm going to take that as a compliment. (Yes, someone asked, "Was it a good sixteen year old or a bad one?" I refuse to be annoyed by sniping.)

So, here's what I though 'flow' was: smoothness of stroking, transitions and change of edge. And maybe power was in there somewhere. And presence. Maybe pretty arm positions. And nice posture.

Here's what it really is:
The word “flow” is used to describe the ability to maintain a constant speed across the ice while executing various skating elements and also to refer to the length of time it takes for the speed generated from a single stroke to diminish. (source:
Oh, it's a measure of skating efficiency. 

Somehow, I thought it would be something.....more....ethereal. You know, like a skating angel.

No, not this kind of skating angel.
This kind....sigh.....
 Anyway, with that definition in mind, when I was skating at the rink today, I tried to figure out while I was skating, where my 'flow' comes from.

I do move smooth, consciously not jerking my arms and legs when I switch them, and I try to keep my posture upright, and my shoulders even. Oh, and get on my edges not on the flat. How that contributes to 'good flow',  I've got no idea.

No one consciously taught me 'flow'. Maybe I just picked it up from skating in hold with Dance Coach. That has to be the solution.

Otherwise, it's a complete mystery to me. It annoys me mightily when I can't figure stuff out.

So, nothing to do but watch (and listen to) the Master of Flow.


  1. Just because that's the dictionary definition of flow doesn't mean that's what your coach means by it. If you're really curious, ask him!

    By the way, I absolutely love your blog, though I don't comment much. I look forward to each new entry!