My Fat-Girl Figure Skating Idol

I don't know Meghan, aka YouTube's icesk8r96, but I would like to. She is the posterchick for big girls on ice, and her YouTube channel is inspiring. Observe her flying camel:




And her lovely loop:



And this graceful freeskate program:



When I tell myself that my heft is getting in the way of my skating, I must remember Meghan, who can still turn in a nifty little layback spin and is working on her axel. An axel! I can't imagine.

During my brief return to the ice yesterday, I felt incredibly conspicuous--not because of my size, as there was a similarly built woman. I felt out of place because of my crummy skillset. And why is that skillset so deficient? Because I don't practice enough. Because I am inflexible. But mostly because I am fearful.

The problems that plague me in real life--a lack of confidence, a crippling fear of failure, a habit of sticking with that which I know I can do instead of taking a chance on something that could be great--are present on the ice. I am terrified of falling. Each time I fall, and it's only happened a couple of times, I feel the wind knock out of my, feel pain radiating through my chubby body, accompanied by heaping doses of adrenaline and fear and disappointment. How could I fall on a forward crossover? What the hell is wrong with me? Everyone saw that! Everyone who didn't now sees the ice shavings on my butt or my knee! They know I suck.

Well, they knew I suck before I fell. That shitty forward crossover broadcast my suckage. I didn't need to wipe out for everyone to realize it. Yet I still find myself deeply embarrassed. And deeply hurt. I always need to evacuate the ice and breathe--just like when I slipped going down the stairs at a movie theater and landed, hard, on the edge of a stair. I gathered myself as the audience laughed--one yelled "Ooo, she took a spill!"--made it around the corner, and stood there, hurting, for a good 10 minutes. I am a wimp and have always been: As a child, my older brother once impersonated me by saying, "ooo, a scratch! Mommy, I need a band-aid! Mommy, I need a band-aid!" Each cold knocks me out for days; the cuts on the backs of my heels from poorly-fitting shoes make me wince with each step.

I need to get over my physical and emotional problems with falling. Here, a therapist would point out that coming to terms with failure on the ice would allow me to navigate my social and professional lives with greater confidence, leading to greater rewards. I bet Meghan has mastered the art of falling on ice. (Though not recently, one hopes: According to her YouTube profile, she's taking a break from skating because she's pregnant!)

Maybe next time I'lll let myself fall.