305. Why Not Glide

I know that I mine a few aspects of my life for numerous posts, but, well, I guess that's just how my life works. If you would prefer a post that didn't come out of my love of romance novels, teaching English, Peloton workouts, knitting, eating candy, or ice hockey team, I guess you could volunteer to write a guest post. Wouldn't that be fun?! (The invitation is real, dear readers!!) But here I am, with hockey season gearing up, thinking about what I learn from my time in the rink.

Last winter, I spent an hour or so on the ice teaching a friend of mine to skate. (Hi, MR!) Fortunately, she's a great athlete with a good sense of balance and a better sense of humor, so the lesson was fun for both of us and successful for her. That said, I found myself thinking about the advice I gave her about how best to go from standing to skating.

The thing is, almost anyone can shuffle forward a few times and then glide farther, but that's not good skating. As much as it often appears that the Olympic figure skaters are gliding along without a care in the world, they are, in fact, using a scientifically created balance of edge work and weight changes to produce the semblance of ease while they actually have to work quite hard.

And even more, if you watch hockey players, their feet are much more like Wile E. Coyote's and the Road Runner's than anything else. Even though they could give a strong push or two and careen deep into the zone, they keep quick feet to maintain balance and speed.

Which is, of course, also a pretty good analogy for having a smart approach to a lot of what life throws at us. Rather than starting off strong and letting ourselves coast to some perceived finish line, we do better if we stay in motion, moving toward what we desire little by little so that when obstacles get in our way, we're not thrown completely off the path we want.

When I'm on the ice, I frequently remind myself to move my feet. Keep moving my feet. I have to say it over and over and over, or I'll allow myself to get sloppy, to reach my arms and stick to try to get the puck. It's not pretty or effective.

I'm not saying that people shouldn't relax and take breaks when necessary. If you look up the average shift length of an NHL player, you'll find out that it's under a minute. They can go as all-out as they need to because they (1) build their strength and stamina through hard work and (2) take the necessary recovery time. But what they don't do is glide through games or life. We can all learn from that.

What do you think? Do you find yourself gliding through life? Please share your responses in the comments.