Last Day of Spins Class

Wednesday was my last day of spins class.

To start out, we were divided into two groups to practice scratch spins, and the instructor took one group and assigned his teenage assistant to the other, which happened to be mine. She watched the other skaters in my group and gave them some tips, but didn't approach me. After a while, she seemed to just be chatting with them and I started to wonder if I was going to get any help.

Now, I have nothing against this girl. She's helped out throughout the whole class with a professional attitude and an encouraging smile. I once asked to borrow a tissue from her on a free style. She told me yes and with a smile, that in the future, I didn't even have to ask. But I can see how it could be intimidating, as a teenager, to approach and correct an adult, even if you are loads better at the thing you're giving advice on.

After a few minutes of scratch spins, the instructor called us back together in one group. He asked his assistant if she'd gotten to everybody on her side. She looked a little embarrassed as she said everybody but... and pointed to me, trying to remember my name. "That wasn't very nice!" the instructor teased her. But he wasn't going to let my scratch spin go without a critique and had me do one right there in front of the entire class!

I panicked a little. I did. But I steeled myself. I can do this. I decided to go from a standstill, so as not to prolong this little impromptu recital. My first two revs travelled a little, but I fought for it, not willing to have a spin meltdown in front of my class. I pulled it together and got my free foot across and down, a good number of revolutions, too. Everything was going well, but by the time I tried to check out, I had spent all my mental energy on the spin. I pushed onto my landing foot and flailed a bit, and bobbled dizzily back to join the rest of the group.

"That was a very good spin!" he exclaimed. "Can anyone tell me what was so good about her spin?" he polled the class. His enthusiasm for my performance helped me focus on the positive of what I'd done as I waited for my evaluation from my much younger classmates. Two hands shot up, from some of the more animated, though not clued in, members of the class. "She held her arms like this!" one said, sticking her arms out in an L to illustrate. "She started it with a dead-end three-turn!" the other said, parroting back the answer to the instructor's favorite question about what starts a spin. "Uh, any other ideas?" he prodded. "It was centered," someone added. "Yes! It was centered!" he had gotten the answer he was looking for, and went on to make a point out of it. I didn't hear what he said. All I could hear was:

It was centered.

We went on to work on scratch spins. The instructor traded with his assistant and worked with my group this time and with me first. He gave me pointers about looking to the left on entry, getting my legs closer together, pointing my foot. None of the sit spins I did then were fabulous, but before he moved on to the next skater he had some words for me. "Your spins are night and day different from when I first saw you spinning. Even from four weeks ago, right before the recital. Have you been working a lot on your spins?" I could only manage a nod. I've been working my butt off on spins for the past few months and I was positively glowing to hear him recognize my hard work. "It shows. Good work."

After sit spins, we only had a brief minute or two to do back spins and class was over. I've decided not to do another session of spins class. It was exactly what I needed for these past four months, but it no longer makes sense for me. I got to experience the teaching of two different coaches, I got to participate in the recital, it forced me to dedicate at least half an hour a week to working on spins (though I did more than that), I got to see what it looks like when people progress in their spins by watching the other girls around me, and made me feel on several occasions like I was actually living in Disney's The Ice Princess. But now I'd prefer to leave work early for ice time when I can get to a freestyle (instead of 30 min of public plus 30 min spins class) and work one on one with one of the coaches who taught the spins class maybe every other week. That way, I'll get twenty minutes of focused instruction, instead of 2 or 3, and the cost will only be a little higher.

But spins class, it's been a good run. I won't forget you.