Frozen Teardrop

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Authors: Lucinda Ruh
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the same way. With skating I could invent and create, to be as unique as I wanted. I could just be me, or so I thought then. I would glide and feel the wind on my face. I could change anything I wanted in the last minute.
    My choice was based on the simple and pure emotion and fact that all I wanted was to keep doing it all. It is truly fascinating to me that when I watch videos of former Olympic skating champions who competed at that time, they said on camera that they wanted to be Olympic champions when they grew up. I never, ever, not even once, had that thought in my mind. I guess I never wanted to be an Olympic champion, but what I did want to be was an artist, and somehow in my child’s mind, an angel, good to all. I always wanted to look after everyone, to take care of people in need and those feeling lost. I felt that was always my mission, and it is what I later on hoped to do when I spun on ice.
    When I chose skating, my schedule changed. Ballet three times a week became once a week, skating once a week became every day, and finally cello and piano were each reduced to once a week. I did however continue with my cello and piano recitals and ballet performances, and now serious skating competitions were starting. I was a very busy child and did not have time for friends or social activities. I don’t ever remember going on a sleep over or playing much with my friends after school. I had work to do. It wasn’t that I was working to be a champion. It was just that I was excelling at everything so quickly that my parents believed strongly in me and expected so much from me. They wanted to see where my abilities led me.
    The mentality was to use the talents you have. You are already lucky enough to have them so it would be a disgrace and shame to God not to work on them. Nothing in my family was every done half way. It was always all or nothing. I was so busy I wouldn’t see my father much as he was also traveling nonstop across Asia, and I would be able to spend time with him only on the weekends when we weren’t at the ice rink. My sister, who was so much older, was on a completely different schedule, so really all my memories of this time are of my mother and me.
    My Japanese skating coach’s way of teaching me was foreign and uncomfortable to me after my instruction in Paris. She did teach me in English, but I was just learning the language so it was a little hard for me to always comprehend what she wanted from me. Everything was so different. In France there was communication between the coach and student, and since I was so little there would also be a lot of giggling. But here in Japan, oh, no. Such emotions were not allowed. The training was strict and overbearing and condescending. There was to be no talking, no having fun, and definitely no smiling. Those were the rules.
    Skating was and still is a very expensive sport. Very famous Japanese families such as the soy sauce Kikkoman family and the Seibu train and hotel family surrounded me and they were treated with more respect than I was. Since my coach was teaching these families she was to train them with more care, and so my lessons were put to the side and my parents felt I was not taken care of properly.
    After a short while I started to not enjoy her lessons, or really the lack of lessons, and my parents decided to switch me to the top coach at the rink at that time. He was the best there was in Japan. My parents were told he would never accept me as his student because I was coming to him from the lady coach who was his rival. My parents decided to try anyway, and surprisingly the coach agreed to take me on. He said I was very talented but since he was too busy at the moment to take care of such a little thing as me, I would have to prove to him that I was worthy of his instruction. I would have to come in every day and work hard on the ice on my own for six months before he would start giving me a twenty-minute lesson once a week.

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