Fizzle

Fizzle = Failed Twizzle.

It was a short-lived victory. After my carefree day of Arge twizzle excitement two weeks ago (at least 20 of them! with speed! with music! in the dance!) I have not been able to do a single one since. For one great dance session I felt like I was back in my old body again; now the crappy "improved" one has returned.

Of course this is incredibly frustrating but I am pretty sure it will come back some day ... It's as if I have been given a tantalizing glimpse of the possible. Did two weeks ago actually happen, or was that just in my head?

I never thought about the turn before surgery, just did it. I am pretty sure I'm over-thinking it now, trying to figure out what I used to do to make it work. I have also tried to just not think at all and let the muscles remember, but so far that's not working either.

So, focusing on the positive ... I did some off-ice axels which made me incredibly sore. I am not supposed to jump but I did, and I was able to do full one-and-a-half rotation and land them on one foot. That was fun. The Blues choctaw has become pretty consistent but takes too long (about 3 beats instead of 2, talk about messed up timing). The Rhumba choctaw is really consistent.

Choctaws require more hip action than a counter/twizzle a la arge, so I am at a loss to explain any of this. It's like a sick joke, only not very funny. I can only attribute the twizzle failure to muscles that were damaged and still not firing correctly vs. lack of hip turnout.

As my husband said about the inconsistency and frustration, "welcome to golf." Another expensive and infuriating pastime ... and one which I have no interest in pursuing.

Breakthrough

I have not been doing much blogging lately, but after skating today I am compelled to memorialize today's events. Fellow ice dancers will likely appreciate this post more than fellow hippies.

Today was a breakthrough day. First: I did 2 patterns of the Paso solo on time, including the restart both times. The restart mohawk is incredibly difficult on my hips. I've fought to get the cross rolls on time and on the right part of the blade so they roll. I was pretty close today.

Second: I was able to do the Argentine twizzle for the first time since my surgery. I just did it out of nowhere after struggling with it for months. Then I put it in the dance at about half speed and did it again. And again, and again. Hoping it is not a fluke and it's here to stay. (Note that it's hard because it's really a counter, not a twizzle ... twizzles are mostly easy for me.)

Third: I was able to do the Quickstep choctaw for the first time since my surgery. Same principle as the Argentine twizzle really, and it's because I finally have the muscle control to get over a solid FO edge going into both of them.

Last week I had a breakthrough on my rockers (I'm doing the Junior Moves rocker patterns so it's all of my rockers, but in particular the FO which are the most difficult for the same reason the twizzle and choctaw were -- not being able to hold a solid FO edge).

I attribute my breakthrough to a couple of things: (1) My OIE Platform, (2) Pilates twice weekly (3) Yoga once per week and (4) seeing some videos of myself skating circa 2001 which kicked me in the butt because I really want to skate like that again.

Who cares why I'm improving -- off-ice training, self-pity, whatever it takes! Just glad that I am still moving forward.

Hippiversary

Friday November 18th was my two-year hippiversary for my left (second) PAO. I am a little late with this update as I was traveling. I celebrated by walking a mile uphill in snow and rain (the snow wasn't sticking to the ground so it wasn't as bad as it sounds). This is something I couldn't have done without major repercussions before my surgery. I was a little stiff the next day but not incapacitated.

When you have a PAO, they tell you that it takes a full two years to heal. At this point I can say that I'm probably as healed as I will ever be. So what's it like two years later?

~I can walk without crippling pain, although walking a long distance, up hill, or carrying a load does make me sore and stiff. I still limp on occasion but it takes a lot. Walking used to be something I loved to do but now it's not my favorite activity. I think I could build up my walking ability if I wanted to work on it, but so far I save my time and energy for other things.
~My overall flexibility and range of motion is far less than it used to be. Period. This has been discussed in prior posts and is probably my biggest bummer. Like the walking, I could probably work harder on this by going to yoga every day or really working on it, but even with a lot of work I will not be where I used to be. It is what it is.
~Skating is generally not painful as long as I don't do anything challenging. My coordination and balance are not what they used to be and this prevents me from doing a lot of things that I used to do without thinking about since I learned them as a kid. It has been a strange and frustrating journey to try re-learning. Sometimes the things that were easiest are now the hardest and vice versa. It's as if my entire body has been re-wired. (Help! I'm trapped in somebody else's body and it won't listen to me!)
~The usual suspect muscles are still weaker than they were, but I am stronger than your average 48-year-old. Hip flexors, glutes and abductors are still fairly lazy -- not for a regular person, but for a figure skater. I say that because for normal activities and perhaps if I took up a different sport, this would not be an issue. Let's be honest; the surgery cut right through the most useful muscles for skating and they have not fully recovered and probably never will.
~My psoas is still very tight and causes some back pain. I am trying different stretches to alleviate this.
~I am not pain free. Now my pain is muscle fatigue, soreness and stiffness and not bone-on-bone arthritis pain. I can deal with that.
~I still don't like to stand for long periods of time or walk or stand on hard surfaces. I can do it, but I pay for it the next day with soreness.
~I still use a cane for long walks and downtown, where I work. This is for balance and also self preservation. I have been wacked too many times in the pelvis by careless people swinging bags around at hip level. Ouch. I use the cane to keep them the hell away from me. I thought about getting a hiking pole instead, but I actually prefer the geriatric look of the cane. It says, "be careful, I have something wrong with me" vs. "I am cool, I like to go hiking in the city!" I still feel vulnerable enough that I want to broadcast the "something wrong with me" part. I also don't want anyone to give me dirty looks if I have to sit down (on the bus, during a tour, whatever) and don't give up my seat. Of course, I do give up my seat to anyone worse off than I am, and that's most people. But it's my choice.

A happy Thanksgiving all. I am still thankful that medical science has come far enough to keep me mobile; in past generations I would be in a wheelchair by now.

Cha Cha, Continued ...

I promise to update this blog on my two-year hippiversary for PAO#2 in November. Until then, life goes on.

Hip in Sun Valley

Found time to skate a bit while judging the National Collegiate Championships in Sun Valley, Idaho

Randy Gardner Seminar

I like to name drop as much as anyone else, so I can't help mentioning that I attended a seminar by 1979 World Pair Champion, world-reknowned choreographer, and all around nice guy Randy Gardner along with my ice dancing peeps on Sunday.

There were 8 of us in the "high" dance group (including some kids) and I was a bit apprehensive about attending because I don't consider myself a high-level dancer any more. But I surprised myself by keeping up. I tried all of the sequences and was able to do many of them and I wasn't way behind the rest of the group. In fact, sometimes I was ahead.

It's nice to know that I can keep up. A year ago it would not have been possible, even on two feet. It gives me confidence that I'll survive the High Dance Camp as well.

Two Year Hippiversary

Today marks the two-year anniversary of my right PAO. That means my left PAO is close to a year and 8 months old. I took this opportunity to re-read some of my early posts. Oh, the drama! Not that all of this hip stuff isn't serious of course, but with the wisdom of two years of healing, I can say that I have mellowed and lost most of my anger about why this happened to me.

In the beginning, I was told that there was a two-year rehab period for this surgery. I was also told that even after two years my hips would not be normal. I would probably have continuing pain and reduced strength/ROM even at maximum recovery.

That's turned out to be quite accurate. While I am happy with the outcome of my PAOs, I am not "cured." There was no promise that I'd be pain free and I'm not. There was no promise that I'd be able to do all of the things I used to do and I can't. I still have many limitations despite what my surgeon and PT would both call a stellar recovery. Their goal was not to give me back the abilities I had before, but to give me as much ability as possible, and they did that.

I realize now how strong and fit and coordinated I used to be, which I didn't realize at the time. I have experienced an interesting progression of aging rapidly, from a sports perspective, practically overnight. By that I mean that I went from being a very fit and fearless 45-year-old, often feeling and skating like I was much younger, to being a 48-year-old with hips that feel and perform like those of a much older person. I am much more risk averse. I am no longer fearless. I don't have the same balance, strength, flexibility and especially coordination that I used to. Despite telling myself that some of this is in my head and it will get better, I know in my heart what I really don't want to admit aloud most days -- I will never get some of my abilities back.

Sounds defeatist but that doesn't mean I won't stop trying. It gives me something challenging to do and provides good exercise for me.

I don't regret my PAOs (and in any case, what choice did I have?). I think a PAO is a wonderful fix for a bad situation that nobody chooses. Truth in advertising: for athletes and dancers, realistically, a PAO may not allow you to perform at your prior level, especially if your hip capsule is opened and a lot of key muscles are severed. (A "simple" PAO where the pelvis is broken and reset but the hip capsule is not opened may be a different story.)

So. See you on the ice, where I'll be working diligently on what I can do, and trying not to think about the things I can't do.