The Return of FreightTrain

FreightTrain put in an appearance this week - Will tells me he's back from college for the holidays.

Am I a bad person because I'm secretly delighted that FreightTrain succumbed to the inevitable "Freshmen Ten"?

No - I'm just a pissy, middle-aged dancer, that's all.

I was commenting to Will that FreightTrain intimidated the crap out of me (not that I haven't mentioned that to him before - I have got to stop treating him like a therapist).  FreightTrain is someone my size but 30 years younger and a good 40 pounds lighter who moves with such effortless confidence and strength across the ice.  Then Will pointed out his lack of fine control and technique and I suddenly saw past my envy, rage, envy, admiration and envy and saw him with fresh eyes  Will was right, of course (he has that maddening tendency).  Underneath the flash, power and beauty was a lack of the amazing control and fine technique that attracted me to this sport from the first time I saw Torville and Dean on the ice 25 years ago.  In other words, FreightTrain wasn't really all that.

Of course, that got me to thinking.  Perhaps my lack of satisfaction with my own ability to look like I know what the hell I am doing is less about ability and more about mental state.  After all, FreightTrain proves that you can come across as amazing without necessarily having the chops to back it up - it's all about attitude. I should know better, of course - in life, in acting, and certainly in dance, ability and training are only part of the equation - equally important is attitude.  I learned from my years as a working dancer with only marginal technique myself that I could "sell" anything, that that often made the difference in auditions.  I could never get my leg up higher my waist, and jumped like an overfed heifer, but no one cared because I could make them like me anyway.  How I managed to forget that lesson is a mystery.

Bottom line, however, I realized then and there that I would have to start rethinking how I think about myself on the ice.  As long as I feel intimidated, I'm going to look intimidated.  Duh.

Other than that, it was a productive week on the ice.  Will threw some new stuff at me on Friday (backward swing rolls, which are a lot of fun), and everything else seems to be coming along nicely.  He even complimented my Dutch Waltz - I was fretting over a little nuance thing that I knew I wasn't getting right, and he blurted out "it's good enough already to pass the test" and that I should relax.  Really?  Good enough to pass - this piece of crap?  OK - maybe I'm being to hard on myself.  I do have a tendency to put the microscope to myself and only highlight flaws - and god knows this sport excels at pointing out flaws (because you typically fall on your ass because of them). 

So the lesson for the week?  Relax.  :)