What’s it like to compete at the pinnacle of sport, the national championships, in an adult body? That was the original idea that flashed through my mind for this post as 400+ of my best friends and I swarmed the University of Delaware for the 2022 US Adult Figure Skating Championships. But unlike the guy wearing a warmup jacket with “Elite Athlete” embroidered where his name could’ve been, I’m officially no threat to the higher echelons of figure skating, or adult figure skating for that matter. I’m a mom who sacrifices sleep on Wednesdays and Saturdays to go drill jumps and run programs, the mom who snags her costumes at thrift stores and brought an eight year old companion to Adult Nationals. Here’s what happens when a working mom, or at least this working mom, takes on nationals.

Tuesday

We arrive with one goal – ice cream. I mean, ice RINK. 

Backing up – do you know what the University of Delaware is known for? Ice cream. And ice skating. Conveniently enough for those who like both, the student-run creamery is RIGHT NEXT TO the one of the ice rinks. I saw the rinks, she tasted the ice cream. Fine, I tasted the ice cream too. Win-win-WIN. 

Wednesday

We were up and at ‘em bright and early, for mommy’s practice ice. While I glided around and warmed up some jumps and spins, eyeballing the imaginary judges, my child was loitering in the bleachers and eyeballing the locker rooms. Later, she told me she wants to go to school at UDel, and play a sport so she can use the locker room showers. I mean, universities have been chosen for less.

Right after my practice ice, we ran over to the other rink to watch a friend of mine compete. We screamed out our love for Heather in the bleachers and proudly added a tossie to her collection. 

A tossie, for the non-skaters in the crowd, is a small gift after a competitive routine. Think candy, cookies, tiny liquor bottles (for the 21 and over crowd, natch). Traditionally, they’re tossed on the ice after you compete. Someone brought a baby into the bleachers as we were breaking out our tossies and my suddenly dark-humored child muttered, “That’s the ultimate tossie.”

I didn’t have time to wonder if I am in fact raising the next Charles Manson because that’s when I realized I needed to get my dress on and attempt to pull off the great trick of competitive skating. That trick is, nail the program. It’s one thing to do a great spin or jump. It’s another to smile, skate, hold the edge, do the great spin or jump, KEEP ON SKATING, KEEP ON SMILING, push into your connecting steps, go into another spin or jump, hold the exit, bend your knees and push again…..did I mention you’re doing all this to the beat of the music?

I stood there in my opening pose, a smile locked on my lipsticked mouth, then the music started and I was off. Opening steps, good, build momentum and wind up for spin, spin position holditholditholdit GOOD, now push into the jump combination THERE IT WAS! Now push off towards the other side of the rink and jump AGAIN….nice. I was so focused on pacing myself through every element while keeping with the spirit of the music that I was only vaguely aware that moment by moment, I was accomplishing it – my little dream of skating a clean program on national ice. And then BOOM – my ending pose. Hold it! Smile! Bow! And only as I was skating off the ice did I realize I DID THE TRICK – I nailed every element, including the one that’s been giving me trouble, in my national free skate. 

I finished exactly in the middle of the pack. Fifth place out of nine, missing the podium by one spot. So I won the contest with myself, to put down a strong clean program at nationals. I didn’t win, well, the contest contest. I didn’t expect to. But…..I really wanted to be on that podium. Grrrrrrauuuuuuughhhhh. One spot away. 

And yet. It was more important to get the “in here” win and not the “out there” one. I say this as someone who spent much of my life chasing the “out there” win, who thought it was the only true win there is. But no. The wins that matter inside are where it’s at. 

So – the win I really needed, wanted, and worked for! Made my national debut with a good strong program! Obsessively watched other people and wrote down what I need to work on! (I can imagine my coach’s comment that I could’ve saved myself the research by bloody listening to him. I DO BLOODY LISTEN TO YOU, Graham!)

I digress. Kiddo and I finished off the evening by hitting a local playground and pub, then wound down the night watching competitive cooking shows on Food Network. 

Thursday

What Adult Nationals? Being a minority of, um, one, doing this solo with an eight year old in tow, I figured that after such an intense skating day it was time to have a little kid-friendly fun. Destination: Baltimore Aquarium, followed by spouse pickup at BWI. 

Highlight of the AQ: we got to touch jellyfish! Which was a first for both of us. I couldn’t look away from how gracefully their tentacles flowed through the water and wondered if I could pull off a jellyfish program. Have to take that one to the drawing board for awhile.

That evening, with the hubs in tow, we all swung by the area to check in with my adult skater folk and look for painted rocks. In a moment of magic, we found two, seconds apart. 

Friday

They went to Philly. I watched skating.

Real grown up bodies – like, not in their twenties – were doing things like this 

If that makes you gasp and go, “I could never do that” – I’m not sure I could either. There are SO many different ways you can skate. We had people doing waltz jumps, we had people doing double axels. We had people focusing on showcase or ice dance and not doing jumps at all (which DOES NOT MAKE SKATING EASIER, for the record.) We had the youngest competitor presenting an award to the amazing Connie Curry, the oldest competitor at 83. And just by chatting in the bleachers, I got a chance to appreciate who some of my fellow skaters are. 

I was sitting there taking off my skates after practice ice one morning while the skater beside made jokes about aging, and then she threw in a reference to the Berkshires, also known as my undergrad stomping grounds. That led to a wonderful conversation, in which I learned she’d gone to medical school at 35 and now lives less than an hour from where I went to college. Another time, a woman walked up to our small group in the bleachers, said, “Hey. I want to sit with you guys and get to know you,” and that’s exactly what happened. I mean, when in adult life does this happen?? She was awesome too – a West Coast badass who ran her own tech consulting company. I only got to talk to a handful of the very cool people at this event, but I think this partial list of tossies I collected shows the creativity and all around throughtfulness of this crew.

Not at all Complete List of Tossies

Milano cookies

Water bottles

Nail polish

Candy, candy, CAN-DY! Hard to give an inventory cause lots of it was eaten already. By, um, me.

Stuffed chicken wearing a gold medal, with a business card that says “Way to throw the chicken!” (There’s got to be a backstory here, Richmond FSC.)

Bundle of chocolate, Advil, and a keychain reading “She believed she could so she did”

A STARBUCKS GIFT CARD. Bless you, Kate from NY.

A handmade fabric Kleenex holder. Cause, ya know, your nose runs when you spin. (Sorry non-skaters, TMI.)

Tiny handmade paper stars with a note saying “Your skate left me starry eyed!” (The skater behind this made 600 paper stars AND dedicated herself to tasting all 16 flavors offered by ice cream shop next door during the competition. Stephanie, shout out, clearly you are a woman of commitment.)

And I didn’t even mention the homemade butterfly ornament and mini-backpack with stickers and hand warmers. My people, y’all are CLASS ACTS. 

Saturday – THE BIG DAY!!!

Up earrrrrrly, because – practice ice! 

When I got back to the hotel my husband and child were stirring in bed, while I put on my first costume of the day & slathered on more makeup than Divine heading out for a hot date. Once I was show-skater ready, we headed back to the rink. 

I pushed out onto the ice for my group’s warm up. I WANT TO WIN, I WANT TO WIN, I WANT TO WIN – I could feel the thought pulsing through my body as I stroked a lap around. I never really watch anyone in warm up, but I had to work to not watch them, especially the skater who won my first event. I was vaguely aware of all the other competitors, sequined blurs in the corner of my eye, as I ran through my jumps and spins. Then, there it was, the announcement to clear the ice.

I laid back on a rink side bench and waited my turn. When it came, I glided out on the ice, arms over my head, and mentally said hello to the crowd before turning to face the judges. 

“Is this the real life?……..Is this just fantasy?” Arms float up, arms float down, push into a three turn, roll the head and I was off. Me & Freddie Mercury, longing for our mamas, me pushing for height on a jump as Freddie’s voice soared. Easy come, easy go, take off across the ice NOW….I heard a smattering of applause and saw a ripple go through the crowd as I was turning toward the boards. Knowing my fellow skaters felt it with me and Freddie, I zoomed into the guitar solo before gliding out on a spread eagle. Then it was spin into the gong crash, and…..done. 

I stretched my arms to the judges and the crowd and glided out the rink door, to hugs from my husband and daughter. I’d hit all my elements, and I love the program, but a few moments felt a bit shaky. Still – I’d take it! Somewhere in the laughing and talking and gulping down of water, one of the women from the bleachers tapped me on the arm and told me how much she’d loved my program. And honestly, hearing that meant as much to me as being rewarded by the judges. A few moments later, I found out that I was rewarded by the judges, with the silver medal. 

Time for awards! This time, I got to step into the middle of the fray and onto the podium, medal around my neck and flower in hand. I was happy, but if I’m being honest, still one step away from where I wanted to be. I love my fellow skaters, I truly do, but at the same time – I want to kill that program and skate it lights out, every time. Meanwhile, the highest level Championship events were going on. I watched them that day in bit and pieces, because I also had to pack up our hotel room so we could start the journey back to our regular lives later that evening. But before that happened, I still had one more competition skate left.

Back to the rink for the third time, this time to put on my second costume of the day. My makeup refresh left me feeling ready to hit a drag stage, although a real queen could teach me a thing or twelve about eyeliner. I think my top hat was killer though.

I’d skate first this time up. Also? I GOT TO LIP SYNCH. And, I’d saved the hardest elements for this program. Because it’s a show program, I didn’t have a long list of jumps and spins I was required to do. So I decided it was a great chance to do a smaller number of elements, but deliberately choose my hardest ones. Namely, a lutz, flip-loop, and camel-sit. Also known as jump, jump-jump, and spin that goes from standing up with one leg behind you to folding over with one leg in front of you. And, no pressure me, it was also my last chance to throw it all down and be wholly satisfied with what I’d done out there.

I skated out with my circus baton in hand, channeling a smarmy ringmaster. The song began, and there I was, unskillfully twirling the baton and lip-synching to the judges to follow me and come away on a trip. Good! Okay, now….push, hold the edge, toe in ice, and …lutz. Camel….hold it, hold it, hold it….now switch to the sit…..hold it hold it hold it…goooood. Now back to the show – juggle with scarves! Grab parasol! Lip synch again! Glide backward, grab the blade, spin, and into the flip (land) loop (land!) Now spin – and DONE.

Skating off the ice for the last time, it dawned on me that I did it – I skated three clean programs at nationals. That’s the ultimate in-here victory. And in the circus program, I got a sweet out-there victory – I won. 

A few hours later, we got in the car and started the long trek home. I’m only a little sheepish to admit that I kept my medals on as the miles rolled away, finally taking them off somewhere in North Carolina. It felt symbolic, like removing the mouse ears on the way home from Disneyland. Time to let the rest of life creep back in.