MP: Pushing the Metaphor
Let's try that again.
Actually, let's try that Olympics metaphor again. Specifically skating versus skiing. I prefer watching the skiing. I imagine myself being one of those skiers careening down the hill, knocking over slalom flags one after another in blindingly fast succession. I love watching the nordic fliers hurtling down the ramp and hurling themselves into the wind, and the crazy jumps and twists of the acrobatic mogul skiers. I even enjoy the crashes. The horrific, how-did-anyone-survive-that? crashes. (As long as the skiier in question did survive.)
I know this makes me different from most of my peers, who watch the skiing with mild interest and find the skating entrancing and compelling. Actually I did enjoy some of the skating, but it was the speed skating, again with the rush and agility, and the terrible crashes at high speed.
Figure skating doesn't do as much for me. I've tried for most of my life to convince myself I loved figure skating. By all rights I should, since it's aesthetic and theatrical and set to music. Men's figure skating I can almost get into, with it's greater degree of aggression and athleticism. I watch the ice dancing and the women, too, but with much less enthusiasm than the skiing. I honestly find curling more captivating than figure skating (which should not be considered any kind of a slur on curling, which is shockingly fun to watch.)
Why is that?
I don't know. I've never been on skis in my life, though I've had more than a few dreams about skiing, strangely enough. I have, however, skated. Badly. Maybe it's an inability to see myself as a skater even in my most far-reaching fantasies. Maybe it's the pace. Actually I think the pace has a lot to do with it.
This morning page is getting away from me. What I had intended to talk about was accidents. Falls. How in skiing, you fall, and that's it. The race is over, you're out. But in figure skating you pick yourself back up after your failed triple-lutz and get on with your routine, and you're still in the running. Skaters you've watched take tail-bone-busting falls during their routines can still end up on the podium. It's something I know some people dislike about the sport, but I think it's a good thing. Gymnasts, too, have that forgiveness built in. Fall off the rings, and you get back up there and finish the routine, even if you know you're probably out of contention for the medals.
So that's what I'm trying to do: get back up on my blades, grab the bar, and swing myself around for another go. Even if I think skiing looks more fun.
Actually, let's try that Olympics metaphor again. Specifically skating versus skiing. I prefer watching the skiing. I imagine myself being one of those skiers careening down the hill, knocking over slalom flags one after another in blindingly fast succession. I love watching the nordic fliers hurtling down the ramp and hurling themselves into the wind, and the crazy jumps and twists of the acrobatic mogul skiers. I even enjoy the crashes. The horrific, how-did-anyone-survive-that? crashes. (As long as the skiier in question did survive.)
I know this makes me different from most of my peers, who watch the skiing with mild interest and find the skating entrancing and compelling. Actually I did enjoy some of the skating, but it was the speed skating, again with the rush and agility, and the terrible crashes at high speed.
Figure skating doesn't do as much for me. I've tried for most of my life to convince myself I loved figure skating. By all rights I should, since it's aesthetic and theatrical and set to music. Men's figure skating I can almost get into, with it's greater degree of aggression and athleticism. I watch the ice dancing and the women, too, but with much less enthusiasm than the skiing. I honestly find curling more captivating than figure skating (which should not be considered any kind of a slur on curling, which is shockingly fun to watch.)
Why is that?
I don't know. I've never been on skis in my life, though I've had more than a few dreams about skiing, strangely enough. I have, however, skated. Badly. Maybe it's an inability to see myself as a skater even in my most far-reaching fantasies. Maybe it's the pace. Actually I think the pace has a lot to do with it.
This morning page is getting away from me. What I had intended to talk about was accidents. Falls. How in skiing, you fall, and that's it. The race is over, you're out. But in figure skating you pick yourself back up after your failed triple-lutz and get on with your routine, and you're still in the running. Skaters you've watched take tail-bone-busting falls during their routines can still end up on the podium. It's something I know some people dislike about the sport, but I think it's a good thing. Gymnasts, too, have that forgiveness built in. Fall off the rings, and you get back up there and finish the routine, even if you know you're probably out of contention for the medals.
So that's what I'm trying to do: get back up on my blades, grab the bar, and swing myself around for another go. Even if I think skiing looks more fun.