Freedom. The wind. The chill running down the spine of your back when you stop for a moment to take it all in. A hockey player swipes past you, and you feel like you might fall with so much force that he has. A skater grinds her skate right by you, making you feel like its a challenge. Yes. Thats right. The ice arena. My place outside of reality. A place where I can just feel the wind while I skate so fast around the beginners, proud of myself for knowing how to skate so fast.  I spin, I fall. It's alright. Everyone there knows that people fall when they skate.

Skating is hard. It's all about balance. My first time skating was sort of a blur, but I can remember the first time when I experienced the contact between the rusty blade of my rental skate and the shiny, watery smooth surface of the glorious ice right before my eyes. I remembered that I stepped on with five other skaters and my coach. We were trying so hard to keep our blades on the ice, but we just weren't getting the hang of it. By the time we crawled the rest of the way to the middle of the rink, our hands were so numb they felt like a  thousand needles poking their merry way into the palm of our hands. The first thing we learned to do was to glide our feet apart from each other, and slowly gliding them back in.  " Come on guys, you can do it. Feel the ice!" My coach instructed.  Now, my view of gliding was slightly at odds. Instead if gliding, my rental skates bent at very uncomfortable angles, and my blades made unstable, crooked lines on the rink. But it was ok. I got a good report at the end.

    In the fall of 2009, I was mastering every simple jump, gliding in circles with backward and forward crossovers. Expecting things to get harder, they simply just connected to the other jumps and spins and tricks. I didn't care that it was hard, as long as I could feel the ice any chance I got so I could practice.

Then came the performances. There have been three since I started skating. Two winter performances and a summer performance. They were spectacular. Outstanding performances where I could show my parents what I have learned, and showing them that I love the beauty of the sport.

 By the time I was going into the 3rd grade,  I practically died when I was informed that couldn't move on in my sport that I was passionate about. We couldn't afford to keep going with lessons, because the higher the level you are, the more money. I was as mad as a bull seeing red! "It's not fair!! You guys are taking something very special to me away!" I hollered, breaking out in tears.  It was terrifying knowing I couldn't learn anything new to improve. It wouldn't be the same if I went out there and knowing I don't take lessons. There isn't anyone to check how I'm doing. It also wouldn't be the same when I practice things I have learned a million times before. I wouldn't get that same chilling feeling as before.

  At last, my desire quickly faded as time went by. I still went to skate for fun, but I had to go back to the rusty blades of the dreading rental skates. Oh, how I despised those skates. It's like being forced into something that's not mine, you feel like you’re back to square one.

BAM! When the summer of 2013 hit me, I knew there was something I could do to get back on my feet. A summer boot camp for advanced ice skaters. My opportunity of coming back to the fairy tale life of my passion for ice skating. But there was one problem. I didn't have good, glossy white skates anymore. My first day was dreadful, having to be the only one with the ugly, brown skates. The other skaters grinding their perfect skates by me..."grind! Swipe". Their skates are teasing my rental skates.  After camp, I was committed to going to buy new skates. I didn't want to do anything else. Since my parents saw the sadness and pleading look in my eyes, I got my skates. "Thank you so much mom!" I cried. "You don't know how much this means to me!" I had tears of joy in my eyes.  The droplets of water pricking at my eyes like like dancing bugs. I had beautiful, slick, white skates. I was good to go for the rest of camp.

Now, I returned to the beauty of ice skating. Again, I step on the ice, the cold chill on my back, I am learning new things, like a sit spin or a scratch spin. The feeling of getting back on the ice, where I love to be, is amazing. On the ice, I stop for a moment to absorb all the memories. I look around at all the places where my spins and jumps have gone wrong, where I first learned how to figure skate, where I completed my first sit spin. All the memories pile on top of me at once, giving me the energy to excel to new opportunities. They whisper in my ear, "Go show them what you've got! You've learned it all and you will learn more!"

From that, I look forward to always being there. My favorite place, the ice rink. The glossy, wet, smooth ice. I go, into the shadows of reality, every glide like a dream.