Had a good practice yesterday. When I got there, there were four of us on the rink, all working on figures in silence. There was something beautiful about each of us tracing our own small circles on the rink with stillness and concentration. Everyone was moving slowly, as one does in figures, each of us tracing the same kinds of lines in differing ways and on different spots on the rink and it felt like a dance. I was so happy to be part of it.
Yes, okay, I am still trying to get my outside curves back reliably. I am close–I have moments where I am right on the edge in a gorgeous arc, but I can’t keep it up.
The bitch of it is that I know EXACTLY what I need to be doing. I know where my body needs to be, where my balance needs to be and where my various limbs need to be–I just. can’t. make. it. happen….yet.
On the other hand, my one-footed Mohawk turns are becoming things of beauty and I also practiced some complicated Tango moves, which are a combo of scary and fun in equal measure. That place between fun and fear, where I am really pushing my limits, is an exciting place to be.