I went skating today and after warming up a bit, decided I would like to try a little footwork, something fast, maybe fancy footwork. Imagining my moves, I charted a path, noticing safe harbors in case I needed to rest. Then I felt afraid. Oh no, that's not acceptable, I thought....can't have fear here on the ice...."you know the rules, if you're afraid, you have to do it."
Sucking up chilled air, I resolved to do half the rink and not commit to more unless it felt smooth. Just enough to face down the fear.
A few turns, a fast swizzle, a 3 turn, improv, just keep it going. Stepping back against the boards, I braced and set and turned to crank the music.
Then I saw him. My old coach, Mike. He popped up ahead of me, in the middle distance, directly in my eyeline, looking right at me. Wow. I hadn't seen Mike in years and there he was, plain as day, smiling at me and waving me over. I stared and squinted and stayed calm while listening within.
His mouth moved. I heard him. Mike reminded me about my knees and not to look down at my feet, to stay focused on him, looking ahead, and watch my arms and not to over rotate like I always used to do. "You can do this, Lori, c'mon, you're taking all the right steps... Let's Go."
He didn't look away. Still stunned to see him, I took it as a sure sign that I could skate right to him, no stumbles, no fear, no breaking focus. It's Mike. He's smiling. And GO!
I never broke my gaze and I knew it was going to be perfect as I pushed from the boards. I skated right to him. All the way, not too fast, but firm and certainly sure I'd make it and surprisingly fancy-footed with the widest grin of gruntled amusement to go with the glide across.
When I got to the end, he winked and beamed a resolute smile. Mike nodded, his eyes crinkled with pride. It was perfect. And unbelievably weird and mystical to see my coach again. Mike died 25 years ago.
I've often thought about him and remember most of what he taught me. But this was the first time he popped up like that, as clear as the ice sheet l skated across that forever binds us together.
I looked over to be sure. Mike was still there. Still smiling. Still nodding.
just another lori story
