There have been many times when I have been ready to throw my skates at the wall and say this was it. NO MORE. Times when I felt like I don’t know how to do anything and the only progress I make is backwards. The demons in my own head tell me that there is no point in trying, there are always going to be others better and younger than you.

There have been many times when the pain of another fall has seared so bad, I found myself fighting my subconcious to get up and try again. I try to fool myself into jumping again – and again. And falling – again and again and again. Throwing myself into the air, I come down on locked legs and smash into the unforgiving ice thousands of times before finally learning a jump. Years of work go into the learning of a new element and there will always be new elements to learn.

There have been many times when I could not sit down for the throbbing pain in my backside, or could not wear shoes other than rain boots for the blisters covering my feet. Bruises often cover my legs and my hands swell from catching myself. There have been sprains and broken bones and more inflammations than I can count.

There have been many times when people ask me “How?” and even more “WHY?” – “25 hours a week, you must not have any other life outside of your skating”!  And of course there have been many times when I heard of my friends going to places and seeing things together, which I once again missed. My days begin at the rink before eight, continue with studies and end again with hours of practice, finally getting home 14 hours after setting out.

So I suppose I must admit that I have no life outside of skating.

Every athlete goes through a stage where motivation drops and one finds oneself questioning the direction they have taken for their life. Is the amount of work put into sports ever going to give back as much to compensate? The same dedication and the same question can be applied to any activity from sports to music to a career. What is it that keeps me going week after week, year after year? Is it only for those few moments of joy – when you finally learn something new, or when you finally stand victorious on the podium or something entirely else?

Figure skating as a sport has given me a sense of freedom. When there have been rough times in my life, I found freedom in the feeling of soaring over the surface of the ice, a rush of adrenaline in my veins. I also had something to dedicate myself to which was outside of the normal flow of life and controlled by only me. Seeing the outcome of my dedication also gave me energy, when I felt drained. Passion is fed by positive feelings, and the feeling of making progress or learning new skills motivates and boosts even fragile self-confidence. The euphoria of finally mastering a new element that you have been working on for years is addictive.

Skating has also been emotionally therapeutic. We all need some outlet for the emotions we feel (good and bad) and the emotional side of the sport has always appealed to me. When there are emotions bursting out from every seam, for me the easiest way of letting them go is to express them through movement. The strength of feeling that you can express when you immerse your whole body into a fiery song is tenfold to simply listening.When I step onto clean ice, the rush of passion I feel is like the pen spreading ink on paper for the writer or the swell of music in the climax of the song for the musician. Once the passion for the sport has been born, there is no other way of satisfying the restless burn.

Even with just the basic movement, there are emotional and inspirational levels. The rhythm of the skating movement carries in itself a soothing lullaby for the restless mind. The rhythm helps numb everything outside of the body and its physical capabilities. In the elements the moment of flight in a jump and the effortlessness of a good takeoff have side effects similar to having taken a healthy dose of alcohol, I feel invincible and believe I can fly.