I’ll never confess my specific goals for 2025 (remember, no accountability!) but one of my goals avoids another 2-year hiatus between articles, so here I am!
2025 has already been worse than expected (impressive!). In the midst of grappling with what to cluck about and being annoyed at my goal setting, there was a devastating plane crash killing many members of the figure skating community. The year already had me mostly humorless, then this just sharpened a dagger into most of my remaining levity. But once I flapped a few feathers out from full despair and numbness, I vowed my next article would cluck about skating in some way. Figure skating doesn’t get much exposure anymore, but it’s still a challenging, demanding yet beautiful sport to which athletes devote much of their lives. Stories deserve to be shared and figure skating deserves more exposure and respect. I don’t have a following like ESPN (yet!) but I hope my 2 followers and Ukrainian bots enjoy this.
You’ll have to wait for my memoir for my complete dysfunctional life story as a figure skater (please pre order my pre order), but today’s tale is about an old friend and faithful jump that’s oddly still part of my life: my double axel. If you follow me on social media, this is the only jump I share in my 10 second videos. If you don’t follow me on social media, what the hell is your problem?
In figure skating years, I’m ancient. (worse than gay years!) It’s been 15 years since my last competition and 7 years since my last ice show. Smart birds my age have moved on with their lives, and their skates are dusty in the closet or trash can. The most passionate, talented, or trapped figure skaters move on to coach the next generation of talent. A few skaters will keep doing ice shows past their primes, as long as they can still stand on blades and (mostly) cover their wrinkles with liquid foundation. The rest find normal jobs eventually and wonder why they pursued such a weird and cold sport. And I am just pushing my age limit of how long I can do a double axel for no good reasons other than self esteem and desperately clinging to youth. I also like filming my trusty jump to a fitting song (Baby Got Back or adjacent). It’s been the same trick, the same clothes, and increasing complaints for 7 years and counting. (for those still cheering me on, I see you!!)
So why a double axel? It’s just challenging enough to look and feel impressive to me and many, but low-risk enough to (hopefully) prevent me from breaking a hip. Axels are also milestone jumps in figure skating because they require an extra half rotation in the air compared to the other jumps. Because of this, it almost looks like I’m doing a triple jump! (But I’m not! Ha!) Also because of this, axels are hard and make a lot of skaters quit. It’s easy to get stuck learning a single, double, or triple axel (you got me, triple!) So it’s a big achievement to do those axels and stop falling on your beak!
Since I’m ancient, I don’t have the sharpest memories as a chickadee learning a single axel. I was no prodigy who did it on my first try (hate them) but I also don’t remember struggling with it for long, nor doubting I’d do it. I remember a fellow skater working on her single axel during the same time. She started trying it before me, and still didn’t have it when I did. Each day, she’d come in to the rink and say, “It’s a good day for axels.” Then it was never a good day for axels. She quit and I haven’t seen her since. But bravo to that optimism!
A few years later I started learning my double axel (my current trick!). By then I’d become fully committed to the sport, skating enough where it became “training,” and no longer practicing in 90s Walmart track suits. I was a tween turning teen; I had bullies, I had rivals, I developed serious health problems and bruises - I had it all! In the midst of this, a fellow skater called me a “pathetic loser who’d never amount to anything” in front of all my training mates at a picnic, so time to start therapy too! I haven’t been to a picnic since.
In the midst of this trauma, I again don’t remember spending a long time working on double axels before I could kind of do it, and I never doubted I’d get it. I also had the added motivation to prove that picnic bitch wrong for the rest of my life. Still goin!
For about 2 years, I could land some double axels that almost looked like double axels! Any jump in figure skating needs to land gliding backwards on one foot after completing the rotations fully in the air. In my learning curve with new, harder jumps like the double axel, I could first “land” it by cheating a little bit. I’d hit the ice on 2 feet first, and complete the last little bit of rotation on the ice instead of in the air (an under appreciated skill, but penalized by competition judges). I was mostly content with my iffy double axel (aside from the judges’ scores) until one day my top rival started landing his double axel perfectly. He’d been falling for years while I could wiggle out of my almost-double axel and at least stay upright and feel superior (except for the judges’ scores!). He was a way prettier skater than me, but fell more often than me, so it evened us out at competitions (except for the judges scores!!). But put us side by side without his falls, and I did feel like a pathetic loser who’d never amount to anything! And that wasn’t an option. I immediately gave my double axel attempts more gusto and determination to do it right too, and soon I did. A true double axel has stayed with me ever since, just like that picnic!
Over the next 10 years, I learned all my triple jumps except the triple axel. That’s the axel that got me, but not before many crushing falls and a dislocated shoulder! I was also ready for the next chapter of my life that didn’t revolve around axels. (ha!) I was in graduate school and ready for a lucrative career in journalism (HA!). I also wanted to drink beer with my friends on Tuesdays and stay up until 6am for no good reason. But even on that bender, I didn’t stop skating. I finished competing on my own terms and felt fulfilled and accomplished. I kept getting on the ice to skate and jump because I wanted to. And I’d devoted so much of my life to the sport, I didn’t know what to do with my time or how to cut that huge part of my routine, so I kept double axeling.
Then I had friends doing ice shows and enjoying tour life around the globe. Get PAID for double axels? Travel the world? Wear silly costumes? Go to bars on Tuesdays? Yes, please.
My skating skills earned me a short solo role in my Hens on Ice show, where I had to pick any jump to do every ice show, hundreds of times a year. Triple jumps felt hard and unnecessary for a children’s ice show, but I had to do more than a little hop to keep that spot and self-worth, so I chose the double axel: impressive enough for Hens on Ice, but low-risk enough to preserve my hips. So for 4 years, I flapped through hundreds of double axels and silly costumes across the world. That was fun!
After those magical years on tour, I thought I’d had enough double axels and fun, so I eyed “real jobs” and a fantasy home life! Ha! Instead, I cried a lot, did some seasonal ice shows, and failed at becoming an underpaid school teacher. But since I never committed to a “real job” for more than a few months (or days) at a time, I could still skate enough for double axels!
While I was lost in a career hunt and redefining myself, my talons and blades on the ice doing double axels kept a constant in my life. I also still liked skating in this next age decade, and I don’t know why!
After crying in a cubicle working for a scam company, I found a flexible “real job” as a flight attendant. Over 7 years later, I can still fly and skate! My irregular and unhinged flying schedule allows me as many (or few!) chances to skate as I want! So the double axel survives.
As I’ve gotten closer to a new older decade of life and a midlife crisis, I thought it’d be fun to keep my double axel going into this looming crisis. The jump would be the same, but more impressive crossing into the threshold beyond my 30s (you can’t make me say it!!) I’m on track to achieve this goal in a few months, and now I guess I won’t stop at this milestone year. I may be mentally ill or have Peter Pan Syndrome, or maybe I just still like ice skating beyond logic and I’m still fulfilled from a familiar part of my life. The world may be crumbling around me, but I can still offer myself (and my Internet friends!) a tested double axel. It still feels good every time.
There will be a day where my trusted trick leaves me, where I accept age and time, but I don’t feel it nipping at my tail yet. So as an old bird, I’ll keep jumping.
The athletes lost on that plane take with them untold stories, unfulfilled potential on and off the ice, and the joy each of them carried. The tragedy is cruel and heartbreaking, and the ripple effects feel large in a smaller sport with all our connections. I feel added gratitude each time I’m able to step on the ice, physically and mentally here and well. I’ll always wonder what those lost skaters’ stories could have been. I hope they all got on that plane feeling accomplished and fulfilled from their time on the ice. Thank you for reading one of countless figure skating stories.
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