Oh, please, don't tell me you haven't had
daydreams about this!
Showing posts with label lesson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lesson. Show all posts
Monday, January 6, 2014
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Things I Hate about Skating. 7, 8, 9 (Pre-Xmas 3 for 1 Sale!)
7. When RINK STAFF (!) interrupts my lesson to talk to my coach
On the outside
On the outside
On the inside
8. When some guy in hockey skates decides to hog the center hockey circle to practice his crossovers
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| Dude, you're annoying me--and all the spinners, jumpers, skaters in lessons... |
9. When the ice is too cold, too hard and covered with bumps over the entire surface
Saturday, November 2, 2013
The Whining Ritual--on Ice
Miss Bianca was looking thoughtful today. I've got all my basic skills, not perfect but they're all there (even the weak side mohawk) and she wanted to move on to something new.
"Can you do Tango Stops?" she asked.
If your coach hasn't introduced you to these, a Tango Stop is a forward stop like a T-Stop but the stopping foot is in front of the skating foot. They can be scary to learn.
"Oh, no," I said, "Those are scary. I can't possibly do those."
We're entering a ritual of learning new skills. It has 3 stages.
1. Miss Bianca tells me to do something.
2. I whine.
3. Then I do it anyway. Because Miss Bianca is THE BOSS.
It goes like this:
Miss Bianca gives me directions.
I whine:
Miss Bianca rolls her eyes and give me a pep talk.
Then I do what she wants me to do!
(Shaffer pushes, still a long way off!)
"Can you do Tango Stops?" she asked.
If your coach hasn't introduced you to these, a Tango Stop is a forward stop like a T-Stop but the stopping foot is in front of the skating foot. They can be scary to learn.
"Oh, no," I said, "Those are scary. I can't possibly do those."
We're entering a ritual of learning new skills. It has 3 stages.
1. Miss Bianca tells me to do something.
2. I whine.
3. Then I do it anyway. Because Miss Bianca is THE BOSS.
It goes like this:
Miss Bianca gives me directions.
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| "Here's how to do this." |
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| Stage 1 Whine |
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| Working up to a: Stage 2 Whine |
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| "Good little student. Good girl. And you said you couldn't do it." |
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
I Turn Five Again
She has a plan for my lesson. A well thought out, professional plan where she builds on my skills and corrects my errors with guidance and thoughtful corrections.
And then I start talking:
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| "See my edges! See my lunge! See my two foot spin! See my crossovers! See my under push and extension! Look at my bad side mohawks!" |
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| Hi! I'm ready for my lesson! |
Sunday, October 27, 2013
A Typical Lesson
So, like most skaters, I'm needy. When my coach starts my lesson, I expect to be the center of attention.
Then she'll start teaching something new. "Hold your wrist so, don't twist your shoulder, bend that knee, get your head up, don't look down, don't be so nervous. Okay. That was a….start."
I feel like this.
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| I'm overwhelmed when I learn new stuff! |
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| I'm certain I'll never be that good. |
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| By the time I get an axel, this is what it will cost…. |
Saturday, September 15, 2012
Mock Mockery
So Dance Coach an I are doing progressives and crossovers in Killian--one of his favorite warmup exercises. It has power, flow, edges, and the opportunity to run over little kids in the center circle all wrapped up in one.
As we go around I can hear and feel the steady rippp....rippp....rippp of my underpush.
"Did you hear that rip?" I say excitedly after we finished. "Wasn't it great!"
Dance Coach throw his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes. "Oh, who is the professional here? I am supposed to be amazed by the sound of your power!. Oh. my. god. You are so amazing. I bow before you."
Yes, it's the traditional Mock Mocking Of the Student.
I take no crap off of no one. I deliver a strong forehand counter-mock. "What! You're the man who tears into even the tiniest whisper of a toepick, and you can't say one.nice.thing about my crossovers?"
We laugh. But secretly, I know I . must . have . my . revenge.
As we go around I can hear and feel the steady rippp....rippp....rippp of my underpush.
"Did you hear that rip?" I say excitedly after we finished. "Wasn't it great!"
Dance Coach throw his hands up in the air and rolls his eyes. "Oh, who is the professional here? I am supposed to be amazed by the sound of your power!. Oh. my. god. You are so amazing. I bow before you."
Yes, it's the traditional Mock Mocking Of the Student.
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| Mock you once, mock you twice, mock you once again. |
We laugh. But secretly, I know I . must . have . my . revenge.
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| I will be revenged! |
Saturday, May 5, 2012
The Invisible Partnership
I have fallen into a perfect partnership between my ice dance coach and my edge coach. And yet they've never met. If they were to meet and form an instructional team, they could probably write their own tickets with adult ice dancers. Yes, together they're that good, and I'm that lucky.
I'm perfectly satisfied with the way Dance Coach teaches me. He focuses on the dance skills, and works to get my basic skating skills, particularly power, up to par. I chose to go this route because fixing my basic skating skills was getting dead boring. I had so many things wrong; I needed something more than just relearning stuff. I needed a motivation.
So I told Dance Coach I wanted to test. Since then he's focused on building my skills around the dance tests. As I wrote about in an earlier post, learning to ice dance is a good introduction to skating.
So Dance Coach is my Macro coach. He's teaching me dance skills and how they fit into a pattern dance. Rather than learn going around in a circle, I'm learning by going the length of the rink, developing my skating skills and my stamina and power at the same time. The lessons are not boring. They are full of variety. It keeps up my interest in skating.
But with Coach Cruella I get a Micro Coach. She is quite willing to work me on a single element for 20 minutes. Her lessons are focused, exacting, detailed, and fun. If this was all I was doing, it might be boring. Instead, because her skill building is improving my ice dance, I'm immediately able to translate her coaching lessons directly into my ice dance.
So, Dance Coach is directing me into the skills that have me sweeping across the ice, changing elements with every stroke, building into skills that have me covering the ice with power and fluidity. Coach Cruella is taking elements and breaking them down to the atomic level so that I develop ever precise control over every edge, rocker position, and posture element.
Over the last two months since this invisible partnership formed, my ice dance has leaped forward. Dance Coach hasn't been this happy about my skating since the Big Warmup. My edges are nice and even the scary left inside swingroll has become a deep and powerful curve. My posture is now natural and erect. My power has improved. There's still things to be fixed. There's no perfection in figure skating; but I can see a future where I can get the outside mohawk and the choctaw--and the rocker too!
What can I say? I fell luckily into a great partnership with two coaches who don't know each other and never met each other. Right now I feel like the luckiest skater in the world.
I'm perfectly satisfied with the way Dance Coach teaches me. He focuses on the dance skills, and works to get my basic skating skills, particularly power, up to par. I chose to go this route because fixing my basic skating skills was getting dead boring. I had so many things wrong; I needed something more than just relearning stuff. I needed a motivation.
So I told Dance Coach I wanted to test. Since then he's focused on building my skills around the dance tests. As I wrote about in an earlier post, learning to ice dance is a good introduction to skating.
So Dance Coach is my Macro coach. He's teaching me dance skills and how they fit into a pattern dance. Rather than learn going around in a circle, I'm learning by going the length of the rink, developing my skating skills and my stamina and power at the same time. The lessons are not boring. They are full of variety. It keeps up my interest in skating.
But with Coach Cruella I get a Micro Coach. She is quite willing to work me on a single element for 20 minutes. Her lessons are focused, exacting, detailed, and fun. If this was all I was doing, it might be boring. Instead, because her skill building is improving my ice dance, I'm immediately able to translate her coaching lessons directly into my ice dance.
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| source |
Over the last two months since this invisible partnership formed, my ice dance has leaped forward. Dance Coach hasn't been this happy about my skating since the Big Warmup. My edges are nice and even the scary left inside swingroll has become a deep and powerful curve. My posture is now natural and erect. My power has improved. There's still things to be fixed. There's no perfection in figure skating; but I can see a future where I can get the outside mohawk and the choctaw--and the rocker too!
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| Rocker Foxtrot |
What can I say? I fell luckily into a great partnership with two coaches who don't know each other and never met each other. Right now I feel like the luckiest skater in the world.
Friday, April 13, 2012
Mental Rehearsal
Taking a lesson from anyone can be overwhelming. Move the body here, twist here, hold the arm here, don't do that-do this, BEND THE KNEE, hold the leg up, pputyourrighfootin, puullyourleftfootout, shakeitallabout. .......
This week between Dance Coach and Coach Cruella, I was mentally swamped. It's easy to lose track of everything in a lesson, especially when you're a beginner like myself. Losing old habits while building new ones requires a lot of effort, probably more than most adults can find ice time for.
Fortunately, there's a way to solve this. I'll call it Mental Rehearsal.
It's an hour each way for me to any rink I skate at. So to use that hour usefully, I've developed some habits of mentally rehearsing what I'm about to do (on the way up), and what I learned (on the way home). Driving to a dance lesson, I put on my dance music and mentally go through the steps. Driving to an edge lesson, I review what I learned last week; driving home, I review what I learned this week--and attempt to merge it with previous lessons.
Back when I was in the Air Force, the trainee pilots I knew had a procedure called 'Chair Flying'. They would sit in a chair and mimic a training flight they had scheduled. Although they were physically pretending to flip switches, making radio callsk and moving the stick, the actual rehearsal was all in their head. The rule was "Ten in the Chair, is worth one in the air."
If you watch the Olympic skaters before they go on the ice, they'll be stepping through their program, or they'll be standing with their eyes closed. In both cases they're mentally reviewing every stroke, gesture, twirl, jump and stop. Mental rehearsal really works.
Secondly, taking a private lesson is something like drinking from a fire hose. How I envy advanced skaters who only need to tweak a skill. I have to construct my skills like a single person building a castle, one brick at a time. My lessons are filled with corrections, skill upgrades, moves etc. I need the mental rehearsal immediately after the lesson to retain all those little skills. The silence of the car allows me an opportunity to review each skill we went through, and every technique I was taught in the lesson. No distractions of the radio, or music on the iPod. This is focused learning, not just running though a checklist. It's best when you can feel the muscles as you mentally think about the moves. It takes effort and concentration to get to that level of Mental Rehearsal, but it's worth it.
So my 3 rules are:
1. Review skills before the lesson
2. Review the lesson after the lesson
3. Review in a quiet environment.
By the way, Coach Cruella Reads My Blog!
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| This is my brain |
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| This is my brain on skates |
Fortunately, there's a way to solve this. I'll call it Mental Rehearsal.
It's an hour each way for me to any rink I skate at. So to use that hour usefully, I've developed some habits of mentally rehearsing what I'm about to do (on the way up), and what I learned (on the way home). Driving to a dance lesson, I put on my dance music and mentally go through the steps. Driving to an edge lesson, I review what I learned last week; driving home, I review what I learned this week--and attempt to merge it with previous lessons.
Back when I was in the Air Force, the trainee pilots I knew had a procedure called 'Chair Flying'. They would sit in a chair and mimic a training flight they had scheduled. Although they were physically pretending to flip switches, making radio callsk and moving the stick, the actual rehearsal was all in their head. The rule was "Ten in the Chair, is worth one in the air."
If you watch the Olympic skaters before they go on the ice, they'll be stepping through their program, or they'll be standing with their eyes closed. In both cases they're mentally reviewing every stroke, gesture, twirl, jump and stop. Mental rehearsal really works.
Secondly, taking a private lesson is something like drinking from a fire hose. How I envy advanced skaters who only need to tweak a skill. I have to construct my skills like a single person building a castle, one brick at a time. My lessons are filled with corrections, skill upgrades, moves etc. I need the mental rehearsal immediately after the lesson to retain all those little skills. The silence of the car allows me an opportunity to review each skill we went through, and every technique I was taught in the lesson. No distractions of the radio, or music on the iPod. This is focused learning, not just running though a checklist. It's best when you can feel the muscles as you mentally think about the moves. It takes effort and concentration to get to that level of Mental Rehearsal, but it's worth it.
So my 3 rules are:
1. Review skills before the lesson
2. Review the lesson after the lesson
3. Review in a quiet environment.
By the way, Coach Cruella Reads My Blog!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
Silence of the Coach
There were long periods today when Dance Coach just stood there staring at my skating. Silence absorbed him, descending around us like fog on a snowy day.
That was really annoying. I missed the yapping.
He likes to have me start a lesson with fast crossovers around the circle. It's not a bad routine: speed, edges, posture, kneebend. The third time around the circle in silence I skidded to a stop, "What? What?"
He pulled his lower lip and sighed. "Not bad." Then, "But, get your free leg higher, and hold the stroke longer." A few crossovers later there was another sad sigh. "Not bad."
This is so typical of coaches. Silence is the sign I'm not doing anything wrong--for my level. I don't think it's a sign I'm doing everything right. I'm just now getting the 'hold leg up higher' comment. Obviously that was always a problem, but I wasn't at the level where I could do it without falling forward on my face. Now I am. So, I'm getting 'tweaks', not 'remakes'.
We progress on to other elements in the Canasta Tango. No comments about 'hinching' (Dance Coach's made up word to cover 'hinging' and 'hunching'), no sharp cracks about "Control, control!", no throwing up of the hands in horror.
Then I caught a toepick and took a shaky stroke that had a lot of unrestrained wobble but I stayed upright. He was across the rink and swore in Russian. I whirled toward him, shaking my finger at him, "That better not be anything bad!"
For Dance Coach this is amusing. I must remind him of his grandmother telling him off back in Russia. He laughs, "Nothing bad, really."
I wish I could say the whole lesson was a burst of unrestrained joy at the improvement in my skating skills, but after minute 30 I hit the wall. I actually nearly took Dance Coach down while we were doing the two footed swivel step in hold from the Cha-cha. I started the wrong direction and my left blade hit his right one. Then there's the usual trouble with my left forward inside swingroll in hold. I can do a fast curve, or a tight curve. I can't do a fast, tight curve. That thing scares me blind.
Relearned the Rhythm Blues, which I haven't done in a long time. The step behinds were as sweet as ever. The side pattern with the lilt and the hold is going to be my bugbear.
Then Dance Coach played music for me to select a song for the Canasta Tango. I listened to the second one. "That one, Hernando's Hideaway!"
Watch it all the way through. A great Broadway showtune.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
The Rocker Foxtrot--NOT!
For five minutes today, Coach, his ice dance student, and I were the only people on beautiful, smooth ice. Glorious. I think I could cover the length of the rink in a single stroke.
Then the public showed up.
There were long stretches of silence in today's lesson. Silence apparently being coaches' way of telling you you're doing well enough not to need correction. And I got a high five for something. I wish I could remember what. So, not doing awful apparently.
Coach Cruella's edge lessons are working because I have solid edges. Dance Coach earns his pay by giving me a lecture on the fact that I have a bent knee on the free leg. We do other stuff. Zip the Canasta Tango through herds of twenty year old boys slamming each other into the boards. Three turns in hold--there's usually long comments on these, but today, only a minor correction. Then things go to pot.
He tries to teach me the outside mohawk from the rocker foxtrot. I've read somewhere this is the "source of many amusing falls". I nearly added to the total. I'm trying to get all the body parts working together, so I'm not worried about pretty skating. I get a gruff "Extend the free foot." Man, in your dreams. I'm all over the place. I don't know where to look, how to hold my shoulders, where my torso should be. Why am I learning this? It's a SILVER dance! SCARY! So, extension, not on my mind right now. I just want to crawl back into the safety of my preliminary dances.
Dance Coach decides to do forward edges in Waltz Hold. We do a few strides and he frowns at me. "You are looking in the wrong place."
Believe it or not, I've been learning dance for almost two years, and I have never heard this before. When we skate in Waltz Hold I usually look at his eyebrows, because I have to look somewhere and they're about in the right place. "I'm.Looking.In.The.Wrong.Place." I repeat.
"When you are on right edge, look over my left ear." He holds his hand about six inches up. "On other side, look other ear."
You know, it's moments like this that make me think ice dance deserves its reputation as fussy sport. This must be some style thing. I mean, how many more style things are there? How does he remember all of them?
At the end of the lesson we're doing inside swingrolls in killian (much improved--except for the one where I got such a deep edge I nearly took the both of us down) and then I just run out of steam. I putter to a stop.
Dance Coach frowns. "Okay, Except for last one."
I throw up my hands. "Power. Edges. Posture. Pick any two."
He laughs and I'm off the ice.
Then the public showed up.
There were long stretches of silence in today's lesson. Silence apparently being coaches' way of telling you you're doing well enough not to need correction. And I got a high five for something. I wish I could remember what. So, not doing awful apparently.
Coach Cruella's edge lessons are working because I have solid edges. Dance Coach earns his pay by giving me a lecture on the fact that I have a bent knee on the free leg. We do other stuff. Zip the Canasta Tango through herds of twenty year old boys slamming each other into the boards. Three turns in hold--there's usually long comments on these, but today, only a minor correction. Then things go to pot.
He tries to teach me the outside mohawk from the rocker foxtrot. I've read somewhere this is the "source of many amusing falls". I nearly added to the total. I'm trying to get all the body parts working together, so I'm not worried about pretty skating. I get a gruff "Extend the free foot." Man, in your dreams. I'm all over the place. I don't know where to look, how to hold my shoulders, where my torso should be. Why am I learning this? It's a SILVER dance! SCARY! So, extension, not on my mind right now. I just want to crawl back into the safety of my preliminary dances.
Dance Coach decides to do forward edges in Waltz Hold. We do a few strides and he frowns at me. "You are looking in the wrong place."
Believe it or not, I've been learning dance for almost two years, and I have never heard this before. When we skate in Waltz Hold I usually look at his eyebrows, because I have to look somewhere and they're about in the right place. "I'm.Looking.In.The.Wrong.Place." I repeat.
"When you are on right edge, look over my left ear." He holds his hand about six inches up. "On other side, look other ear."
You know, it's moments like this that make me think ice dance deserves its reputation as fussy sport. This must be some style thing. I mean, how many more style things are there? How does he remember all of them?
At the end of the lesson we're doing inside swingrolls in killian (much improved--except for the one where I got such a deep edge I nearly took the both of us down) and then I just run out of steam. I putter to a stop.
Dance Coach frowns. "Okay, Except for last one."
I throw up my hands. "Power. Edges. Posture. Pick any two."
He laughs and I'm off the ice.
Monday, March 19, 2012
Show.No.Mercy
It's been a yappy week. Coach Cruella yapped, "Down in the knees!". Dance Coach yapped, "Sit up straight!" And no one was happy.
"Let me explain this to you," I told Dance Coach while I was catching my breath after a particularly awful string of inside swingrolls, "The American way is for positive reinforcement. Lots of praise that I'm improving. Turn a blind eye to the fact that I look like a duck on ice, look for something positive to say even when you're correcting me. Your way, is that no matter how much I improve, I'm always doing something wrong."
"Is Russian way." he said.
"Let me explain this to you," I told Dance Coach while I was catching my breath after a particularly awful string of inside swingrolls, "The American way is for positive reinforcement. Lots of praise that I'm improving. Turn a blind eye to the fact that I look like a duck on ice, look for something positive to say even when you're correcting me. Your way, is that no matter how much I improve, I'm always doing something wrong."
"Is Russian way." he said.
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| Does this picture really need a caption? |
Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Twinkle Toes Maneuver.
Today's Russian
Ja Bun-yee My-Oh--I understand. Don't pronounce it Ja Bunyi May-o. Coach laughed so hard he nearly fell over.
Coincidentally, today was the reunion for skaters from my old rink. All my old ice dance friends were at this rink, and all staring at me in my lesson. The comment from the ladies, "Ooooh, your coach is a cutie." I am so past that.
It was the usual round of warm ups until we started forward cross overs. For those of you who say, "I passed crossover ages ago." Sorry, Buttercup, crossover work never goes away. You get to work on power, smoothness, extension, position. I'm pretty smooth now. I really rarely clunk one down anymore, and if I do, it's more of a 'chink' (although according to Dance Coach I'm causing earthquakes in China. Meh.) So I am extending my crossing leg, then I start extending the under push and putting a little extra push and lift with the toepick at the end of the under push. I learned this a long time ago, and I don't know what it's called. I think of it as the Twinkle Toes Maneuver.
Ja Bun-yee My-Oh--I understand. Don't pronounce it Ja Bunyi May-o. Coach laughed so hard he nearly fell over.
Coincidentally, today was the reunion for skaters from my old rink. All my old ice dance friends were at this rink, and all staring at me in my lesson. The comment from the ladies, "Ooooh, your coach is a cutie." I am so past that.
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Dance Coach goes wild. "Let me video this! Is beautiful! I want you to see this!"
I shudder. Being photographed is torture. But Dance Coach is the boss. I start the crossovers again and put extra stretch in my extension. I do the Twinkle Toes Maneuver. I Move.Smooth. Coach is making happy sounds and calls me over.
I look at his camera and see a short, fat elderly woman in a hat, with no extension and boots hanging off her feet like space junk. Where's my extension? I can feel it when I skate. Where's my toe point? I'm pointing with every fiber of my being. The smooth I can see. The speed I can see. Whatever else Dance Coach sees, I don't see. It hurts to watch. WHEN DID I GET OLD? At least I'm not hunching. That ends up on YouTube, there'll be one less ice dance coach in the world. I turn away from it. Dance Coach plays it again, looking pleased with himself.
I learned the Cha-Cha today. I'm a little concerned about the step where you do a swing roll, bring the free foot in front of the skating foot, make it the new skating foot, and bring the old skating foot halfway up your calf, before making it the skating foot again. If you can master the Evil Step Behinds in the Rhythm Blues, this is okay. Then we start learning the bit at the beginning where you do a RFO Chasse, then immediately step wide into a RFI 'double lift thingy'. (If I have written this wrong, it's because there's stuff in the Cha Cha that's indescribable.) Dance Coach takes my hand. I stare at him. All we're doing is a progressive, to a chasse, into the wide step. "Why are you holding my hand?"
"It's the wide step." he says.
I waved him off. "You do realize people have been telling me for 5 years not to step wide. Now you're worried about it?"
I admit that at this point, I have absolutely no clue about the rhythm or the flow of the Cha Cha. I think if I draw it out on a piece of paper with notation that means something to me, I might be able to get it. With all the double stroke, funky footwork, and saucy music it seems fun. Dance Coach says, "Will go very fast." Whether that means me learning it, or the pace of the dance, I have no idea.
We fiddle around with some more dance stuff, and work on my Waltz 3's in hold. For once I nail them like a pro. Then, I go to my reunion. All in all, an exhausting lesson.
"It's the wide step." he says.
I waved him off. "You do realize people have been telling me for 5 years not to step wide. Now you're worried about it?"
I admit that at this point, I have absolutely no clue about the rhythm or the flow of the Cha Cha. I think if I draw it out on a piece of paper with notation that means something to me, I might be able to get it. With all the double stroke, funky footwork, and saucy music it seems fun. Dance Coach says, "Will go very fast." Whether that means me learning it, or the pace of the dance, I have no idea.
We fiddle around with some more dance stuff, and work on my Waltz 3's in hold. For once I nail them like a pro. Then, I go to my reunion. All in all, an exhausting lesson.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Ex-cuuuuse Me!
Russian word for the day:
iz-ven-eetch-cha -- sorry: as in "Sorry, I forgot the dance step", "Sorry I fell"*, "Sorry I put my foot wrong."
It was a federal holiday, so Dance Coach and I squeezed in a freestyle session to work on the Canasta Tango to music. The CT and I are not friends yet. We're more like mortal enemies forced to fight together to save the earth in a third rate paranormal fantasy novel. The steps in the CT are a lot quicker in parts (the progressives), but not to be rushed in the other parts (the swing roll and slide chasse). So, yes, I'm too slow in the fast parts, and too fast in the slow parts.
After the second time where I failed to make it around the second pattern. Dance Coach blew past the Disappointed Voice into Full Lecture Mode. "Why you do that? You know the pattern. You just skated the pattern, why can't you skate it twice?"
"Iz-ven-eetch-cha." I say, "I was thinking so hard about the end pattern, I started it too soon."
Speaking Russian to Dance Coach seems to take the edge off the lecture. "Okey, we do again."
I feel so manipulative.
My problem with the CT is that it requires strong pushes every single step and the progressives have tighter curves than I'm accustomed to, plus I think Dance Coach is secretly pushing up my power. This means that I have to be precise with my upper body and knee action. For example, in the swing rolls, I really have to time the shoulder action and the knee action together. In the cross roll I have to get deeper in the knee. In anything in this dance, if I look down even for a second, there's no time for a correction. I haven't had the nerve to practice all this alone at my (elderly lady) top power , but I guess I'll just have to force myself to do it from now on, or I'll never get that end pattern without skid. You could hear the skidding on the end pattern in Moscow today.
Third time's a charm. The only skid was in the cross roll. Now that it's going right, Dance Coach's mood lifts. He starts teaching me parts of the swing dance, and then we go to back cross rolls. I make a face. He's in a good mood. "Tizloy!"
At least all my work on posture has paid off. I no longer hear any comments about "Hold yourself like an ice dancer." No comment, that's figure skating coach praise.
*(And yes, I nearly fell, in foxtrot hold doing something I've done a hundred times. I think it's the upped speed. Gotta practice, practice, practice to get better, better, better.)
iz-ven-eetch-cha -- sorry: as in "Sorry, I forgot the dance step", "Sorry I fell"*, "Sorry I put my foot wrong."
It was a federal holiday, so Dance Coach and I squeezed in a freestyle session to work on the Canasta Tango to music. The CT and I are not friends yet. We're more like mortal enemies forced to fight together to save the earth in a third rate paranormal fantasy novel. The steps in the CT are a lot quicker in parts (the progressives), but not to be rushed in the other parts (the swing roll and slide chasse). So, yes, I'm too slow in the fast parts, and too fast in the slow parts.
After the second time where I failed to make it around the second pattern. Dance Coach blew past the Disappointed Voice into Full Lecture Mode. "Why you do that? You know the pattern. You just skated the pattern, why can't you skate it twice?"
"Iz-ven-eetch-cha." I say, "I was thinking so hard about the end pattern, I started it too soon."
Speaking Russian to Dance Coach seems to take the edge off the lecture. "Okey, we do again."
I feel so manipulative.
My problem with the CT is that it requires strong pushes every single step and the progressives have tighter curves than I'm accustomed to, plus I think Dance Coach is secretly pushing up my power. This means that I have to be precise with my upper body and knee action. For example, in the swing rolls, I really have to time the shoulder action and the knee action together. In the cross roll I have to get deeper in the knee. In anything in this dance, if I look down even for a second, there's no time for a correction. I haven't had the nerve to practice all this alone at my (elderly lady) top power , but I guess I'll just have to force myself to do it from now on, or I'll never get that end pattern without skid. You could hear the skidding on the end pattern in Moscow today.
Third time's a charm. The only skid was in the cross roll. Now that it's going right, Dance Coach's mood lifts. He starts teaching me parts of the swing dance, and then we go to back cross rolls. I make a face. He's in a good mood. "Tizloy!"
At least all my work on posture has paid off. I no longer hear any comments about "Hold yourself like an ice dancer." No comment, that's figure skating coach praise.
*(And yes, I nearly fell, in foxtrot hold doing something I've done a hundred times. I think it's the upped speed. Gotta practice, practice, practice to get better, better, better.)
Monday, December 26, 2011
Surprise Lesson
Russian used in today's Lesson
Stoi-kee -- tough. As in "Be tough on me Coach."
I went to a public session to practice and passed Dance Coach on the way in. He had a lesson scheduled, but they didn't show up, so I took the session.
"Be tough, " I told him. "I want to test in February. I don't have a Russian word for this lesson, so tell me how to say 'tough' in Russian."
Dance Coach thought a long time on this one. There are a lot of words in russian that mean 'tough'. Tough meat, tough (hardwearing) material, tough problem. I looked up the one he gave me. Stoi-kee seems to mean 'mentally tough'. So be 'mentally tough' on me, Coach. Mmmm, well, may I'd better keep looking for a better word.
We're working on the Canasta Tango and the Rhythm Blues. While I test the Canasta next, I'm doing better at the Rhythm Blues. At the end of the last time we did the dance, Coach said, "You're meeting standard."
"Master's standard." I said, "For the over 50's."
"No, Adult Standard."
Wow. Same standard as a 20 year old. Just, Wow. Of course, that's 'meeting the standard' as long as Coach is calling the steps, but it encourages me that I can do the dance to the standard when test time comes.
Unfortunately, I test Canasta Tango first. There doesn't seem to be anything terribly hard in the dance step wise, until I start to skate it at the right speed. Man, there's all these curvy bits, and I'm not curving enough. Sometimes, I'm not curving at all. Dance Coach say, "You have to help me on that second swing roll, start turning the right direction."
"Just drive me like a truck." I joke, referring to our first lessons last year, when I had little control.
Coach gives a bitter laugh. "This is regime of tough coach. Skate better."
Just great. I asked for it.
Stoi-kee -- tough. As in "Be tough on me Coach."
I went to a public session to practice and passed Dance Coach on the way in. He had a lesson scheduled, but they didn't show up, so I took the session.
"Be tough, " I told him. "I want to test in February. I don't have a Russian word for this lesson, so tell me how to say 'tough' in Russian."
Dance Coach thought a long time on this one. There are a lot of words in russian that mean 'tough'. Tough meat, tough (hardwearing) material, tough problem. I looked up the one he gave me. Stoi-kee seems to mean 'mentally tough'. So be 'mentally tough' on me, Coach. Mmmm, well, may I'd better keep looking for a better word.
We're working on the Canasta Tango and the Rhythm Blues. While I test the Canasta next, I'm doing better at the Rhythm Blues. At the end of the last time we did the dance, Coach said, "You're meeting standard."
"Master's standard." I said, "For the over 50's."
"No, Adult Standard."
Wow. Same standard as a 20 year old. Just, Wow. Of course, that's 'meeting the standard' as long as Coach is calling the steps, but it encourages me that I can do the dance to the standard when test time comes.
Unfortunately, I test Canasta Tango first. There doesn't seem to be anything terribly hard in the dance step wise, until I start to skate it at the right speed. Man, there's all these curvy bits, and I'm not curving enough. Sometimes, I'm not curving at all. Dance Coach say, "You have to help me on that second swing roll, start turning the right direction."
"Just drive me like a truck." I joke, referring to our first lessons last year, when I had little control.
Coach gives a bitter laugh. "This is regime of tough coach. Skate better."
Just great. I asked for it.
 |
| Stoi-kee, Ford Stoi-kee |
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Dec 17 Practice: Starting the Canasta Tango
Coach yelled at me in Russian today. Yes, I do feel like a real skater now.
At the beginning of the lesson Dance Coach told me to do my edges around the hockey circle. I asked, "Na lay'va eel-lee na pra'va? " (To the left or too the right?). He's delighted. "You have the right pronunciation. I teach you in Russian from now on."
Right. That'll happen.
So we start to work on the Canasta Tango, or as Moves Coach calls it, The Nasty Tango. I know the pattern of the dance, but because we're skating on pre-christmas public we really can't get the power and speed needed. So Dance Coach and I do a reduced size pattern and work on the fiddly bits: The end of the dance, the transition to the presentation glide, the slide chase' (apparently just sticking your foot out front isn't good enough). We do this despite a little boy of 6 who blithely is right in our way, no matter what we do or where we skate. We do scare a few people by passing within inches. But that kid, he's unscareable.
Then Coach stands aside. "Do the Tango by yourself. We work on power," and for the next minute I'm being chased around the rink by Coach roaring at me in Russian. Yes, the Russian does make me skate with more power, but I'm laughing so hard I could only do one pattern before I have to stop and catch my breath. Coach thinks this is funny too. Then it's back to work. What do the public skate people think is going on?
With the Dutch Waltz over Coach is upping the standards he's set for my skating elements. I'm doing stuff now, better than I ever skated before, and it's no longer good enough. This is inevitable. The one thing about figure skating, is no matter how good you get, there always more to be fixed.
We finished of as usual with some elements in Foxtrot Hold. The last thing is forward cross rolls. I feel perfectly comfortable with these solo, but with a partner I suddenly felt really, really short. Ten years ago I was 5'4". Now I'm 5'2". I'd better learn my dances or I'll be too short to get a partner. All the Russian yelling won't help if I turn into the amazing shrinking woman.
At the beginning of the lesson Dance Coach told me to do my edges around the hockey circle. I asked, "Na lay'va eel-lee na pra'va? " (To the left or too the right?). He's delighted. "You have the right pronunciation. I teach you in Russian from now on."
Right. That'll happen.
So we start to work on the Canasta Tango, or as Moves Coach calls it, The Nasty Tango. I know the pattern of the dance, but because we're skating on pre-christmas public we really can't get the power and speed needed. So Dance Coach and I do a reduced size pattern and work on the fiddly bits: The end of the dance, the transition to the presentation glide, the slide chase' (apparently just sticking your foot out front isn't good enough). We do this despite a little boy of 6 who blithely is right in our way, no matter what we do or where we skate. We do scare a few people by passing within inches. But that kid, he's unscareable.
Then Coach stands aside. "Do the Tango by yourself. We work on power," and for the next minute I'm being chased around the rink by Coach roaring at me in Russian. Yes, the Russian does make me skate with more power, but I'm laughing so hard I could only do one pattern before I have to stop and catch my breath. Coach thinks this is funny too. Then it's back to work. What do the public skate people think is going on?
With the Dutch Waltz over Coach is upping the standards he's set for my skating elements. I'm doing stuff now, better than I ever skated before, and it's no longer good enough. This is inevitable. The one thing about figure skating, is no matter how good you get, there always more to be fixed.
We finished of as usual with some elements in Foxtrot Hold. The last thing is forward cross rolls. I feel perfectly comfortable with these solo, but with a partner I suddenly felt really, really short. Ten years ago I was 5'4". Now I'm 5'2". I'd better learn my dances or I'll be too short to get a partner. All the Russian yelling won't help if I turn into the amazing shrinking woman.
Viktor Petrenko-World & Olympic Gold Champion and Coach
 |
He's got the whole Russian Coach glare down. I bet he doesn't even have to speak, much less yell. Psychic arrows of disappointment are direct fed into the student's brain. |
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Nov 12 Lesson Post--Dancing with the icePod
I have a dance test--my first skating test--in three weeks. Unfortunately, my schedule and coach's schedule don't match for freestyle sessions. So, yes, I'm doing test preparation on winter publics. This means that until Nov 12, I had never skated the Dutch Waltz to music. Did I hear a gasp of horror from one and all? Three weeks to the test and you've never skated to music! Quelle horreur!*
Coach had the idea I should bring my iPod (the icePod let's call it) and he would listen to one earbud, and I'd listen to the other. Sorry, that was silly. I got an audio splitter, and an extra set of earbuds from the 5 and Below store. Now we each had our own set. So we're on ice, and we plug in. Music is too loud for me too soft for him. Argument over the volume setting. Just like a man with the remote, he wants to take control of the icePod.
Finally we get going. Skating through the board clingers, the hockey boys, and the clueless. Overhead, Lady Gaga is wailing away. We can faintly hear the Dutch Waltz.
It was scary a couple of times going around the rink in dance hold and plugged into the icePod. Coach is the sweetest guy in the world with kids until he's in dance hold. Then it's all gruff "They should stay out of our way." What can I say, he's got a dance split personality. He wants to go fast, he wants the steps accurate, and he'll put me within inches of people in our way. We passed through the crowd like eagles through the clouds.
I. Nailed. That. Dance.
On the beat, with power, good extension, stroking in time with coach. It was excellent!
Afterwards, I asked, "Have you skated sharing an iPod before with a partner?"
"No," coach said. "First time."
The things that man will do to get me test ready. A coach like that is a keeper.
*Tip o' the hat to whoever is beaming in from Canada to read this.
Coach had the idea I should bring my iPod (the icePod let's call it) and he would listen to one earbud, and I'd listen to the other. Sorry, that was silly. I got an audio splitter, and an extra set of earbuds from the 5 and Below store. Now we each had our own set. So we're on ice, and we plug in. Music is too loud for me too soft for him. Argument over the volume setting. Just like a man with the remote, he wants to take control of the icePod.
Finally we get going. Skating through the board clingers, the hockey boys, and the clueless. Overhead, Lady Gaga is wailing away. We can faintly hear the Dutch Waltz.
It was scary a couple of times going around the rink in dance hold and plugged into the icePod. Coach is the sweetest guy in the world with kids until he's in dance hold. Then it's all gruff "They should stay out of our way." What can I say, he's got a dance split personality. He wants to go fast, he wants the steps accurate, and he'll put me within inches of people in our way. We passed through the crowd like eagles through the clouds.
I. Nailed. That. Dance.
YES!
On the beat, with power, good extension, stroking in time with coach. It was excellent!
Afterwards, I asked, "Have you skated sharing an iPod before with a partner?"
"No," coach said. "First time."
The things that man will do to get me test ready. A coach like that is a keeper.
*Tip o' the hat to whoever is beaming in from Canada to read this.
Saturday, November 5, 2011
Nov 5 Lesson Post: Ladies and Gentlemen, the Dutch Waltz
For every lesson, Dance Coach manages to appear out of nowhere while I'm on the ice stroking around waiting for lesson to begin. Suddenly there is this Russian guy skating next to me saying "Ready to skate?" How does he do that? Are transporter beams involved?
Today was all about the Dutch Waltz (DW) as I am testing next month. Since I take lessons on public, think of it as Dutch Waltz Obstacle Course as we have to avoid other skaters and the cones. When I started out learning it, the DW was the way Dance Coach got me back on my feet after a year off the ice. Now it's my entry into ice dance.
The DW is the simplest ice dance. It has 5 elements: Progressives, forward stroking, swing rolls, skating in hold, and the presentation glide. In the DW the hold is called the Killian. The woman's left arm crosses the man's chest, his right arm is around her back, the skaters hold each other's hands. They do the same steps at the same time. It took me months to get this dance down. It's not hard but I was relearning skating, learning new skating skills, and my poor brain was overwhelmed. Now I can do it fairishly well. Will I pass the test? Cross fingers.
But today we're on a moderately crowded public skate, and we did the dance at the speed Dance Coach seems to feel is acceptable for a Master's Level skater (translation: elderly skater) We did it 10 times. I nailed every single element. (Had some boo boos on timing that Dance Coach fixed). My legs were trembling at the end of the lesson. Then Dance Coach said the ultimate skater's compliment:
"You have nice knees."
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
She chortled in her joy.
She chortled in her joy.
My coach I have pleased,
I have 'nice knees'!
How many adult learner skaters never hear that? or only hear "Bend that knee!"
But I know what he was really happy about, it's not just the knee bend, it's the whole skating package. I was in the right place on the blade, and the extension was good, plus my power, edges, checking, carriage, and control. Put it all together and you have a skater with 'nice knees'.
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