Blog > September 23, 2007

There is one word that properly describes my experience in Romania: rollercoaster. Yes, rollercoaster. Just like in those terrifying rides, my emotions were jerked around; excitement, then that slow, timeless feeling when you know something bad is about to happen, abruptly followed by intense disappointment whipping across my face. I guess you'll just have to read on and see how those descriptions could possibly describe a figure skating competition for a 16 year old!

I didn't really have any expectations for what Romania would be like. I knew Transylvania was there, so I guess I anticipated some vampires. That's all. When we landed on Romanian soil, we had a lofty five-hour bus ride to Miercurea Cuic, the city where the competition was held. Come to think of it, I don't really remember much of that bus ride because I was sleeping. On a bus. Getting kinks in my neck. Enough said.

Once I regained consciousness and took in my surroundings, I realized we were in a very poor country MUCH different than cozy St. Paul. All the houses were tightly packed together with only car-sized lots between them. The hotel that we stayed at far surpassed the horror stories I had heard about it, as did the meals. Thankfully, there were no bugs flying around the usual European dishes: a vegetable mixture, breaded chicken, and of course the strange pastry that no one seems to know what's inside of it.

Practices went well, landing all of my jumps (including the triple Axel), centering all of my spins, and managing not to trip on crossovers or other "tricky" footwork. I really felt ready to take center stage and deliver two solid programs.

I drew to skate 9th out of the 16 skaters, or 4th in my warm-up of 5. I'm not too picky with starting orders, so this wasn't a problem for me. In the six-minute warm-up my legs felt strong and secure, much different than at Junior Worlds 6 short months ago. When it was finally time for me to take my starting position, I smiled at my coach Ted, and put on my short program face, one of aggression, determination, and pride. I skated a solid program including a triple lutz-triple toe loop combination and a solo triple loop. My double axel got wonky in the air and I thought for SURE I would fall. I probably told myself to tap into what if must feel like to be a cat, because I somehow landed (pretty slowly I might add) and proceeded to do a little twinkle-toes dance to "cover up" my mistake. I finished strongly and stayed in the character and mood of the program.

Sitting in the kiss and cry, I conversed about the program with Ted. We both thought it went really well and I had a big smile plastered across my face. One minute went by, no scores. Two minutes, no scores. Finally the announcers booming voice reached everyone's ears and I listened attentively for what he had to say. As soon as he finished and I received a total score of 48.55 points, I thought something was wrong. Maybe he meant to say that my technical score was thirty-one, not twenty-one. Maybe someone added my numbers incorrectly. When no part of my score changed on the screen, I walked off towards backstage with a lump in my stomach. I had skated a pretty good program, but got a terrible score…How did that happen?

Looking at my protocol sheets, where I sat in 6th place, I saw that I got my combination downgraded from a triple-triple to a double-double. I was disappointed with the caller's decision, but more determined to prove him wrong the following day in the long program. I wasn't going to let this affect me at all.

Seeing as Adam Rippon, the other American skater and one of my closest "skating world" friends, was in first place and 16 points ahead of me, I knew the gold medal was probably out of reach. I set my goals on winning the long program and finishing comfortably in second place overall with a clean long program. I let everyone know about my goals, landing a solid triple Axel in the six-minute warm up. I skated third, so when I came back out onto the ice for my program, I stroked around the arena pumping myself up to deliver the goods. I can honestly say I have never been that relaxed for an event.

Once the first note of the music came rushing into the cold arena, I got into the mood of the program and looked into the eyes of the judges ahead of me. Although I fell on the triple axel, I felt proud that I went for it and took myself to the next level in my skating. I landed every jump that followed including a triple lutz-triple toe loop, triple flip, triple loop-double loop-double loop, double axel, triple flip-double toe, triple lutz, and a triple salchow.

I once again took a seat in the kiss and cry and put my arm around Ted. He was very happy with the program and noted how aggressive I looked. After two minutes went by and no scores had been read, I knew what was going to happen. AGAIN. Although I couldn't hear it, Ted told me that when my scores eventually appeared on the screen, the audience chimed in with an "AAHH" moment. They weren't too pleased either. I scored my lowest long program score, 97.75, and my lowest event score, 146.30. I still consider this my best international competition to date, but somehow I got the lowest scores….Go figure. Just as the day before, I got numerous jumps downgraded. Five to be exact. I tried to remind myself how I felt about the program and how good I thought it was.

I was extremely happy for Adam on the other hand, who delivered another solid program to win JGP Romania. I've been competing with him since I was 12 years old and we (and our mom's) have formed a strong friendship together. If I wasn't going to win, I would certainly want him to!

Since coming back home, I've had to turn this into a blessing in disguise. Even if my jumps aren't cheated or under rotated, I will work to make sure NO ONE thinks they are. And if they are cheated, then at least we found out about this problem now. Just two days ago I heard the extremely thrilling news that I received another JGP assignment to Chemnitz, Germany in 3 short weeks! I intend on training very hard before the competition, but more importantly: BE MYSELF. And that's my new philosophy!

Just like a rollercoaster ride, I felt "nauseated" when it came to a screeching halt. But guess what? With all the twists and turns, bumps and jumps, I'm still alive! This doesn't mean I'm a terrible skater. It's just one more thing that I need to go through that will make me stronger.

I hope this journal entry finds everyone well, and I want to thank you all for sticking with me. Whether I'm winning a National title, or getting 5th at a Junior Grand Prix, your support means the world to me and I thank you so much.

Until next time,

~Eliot