He shook his head. “I didn’t. This isn’t about me. I was worried that if I brought them it might turn into the Ben show, which is why I only have my regular skates. Don’t worry, I can coach you in these.”
It was so uncharacteristic of him that I had to fight to keep my mouth from dropping open in shock. Benlivedfor the spotlight. Or at least the version of him that I used to know did.
I finished lacing them and stood up. “Okay, it already feels weird. Like I’m standing on two by fours.”
Ben turned to Neil. “Can you get all this?”
He nodded and hoisted the camera to his shoulder.
I watched Ben shift into performance mode the moment the camera switched on.
“Before we get out there I’m going to let you in on a little superstition of mine,” he said, pausing at the doorway. “No one knows, so consider it an exclusive. I always,alwayshave to make sure that I step out on the ice using my right foot.”
I thought back to our first morning at the rink, because I’d noticed that he’d seemed tentative.
“It’s a little OCD, I know. But now it’s so ingrained that it’s nonnegotiable. If I forget, I have to leave the ice, take my skates off, put them back on, and head out on the ice leading with my right foot.”
Ben wasn’t calling it OCD in a jokey way. I’d known many athletes who had to fight through versions of the condition, especially when it came to preperformance rituals. I knew better than to call him on it, especially since he’d just admitted to the world that even the great Magic Martino could be governed by intrusive thoughts.
“So are you saying that I should step out on my right foot?” I asked him.
“I mean, it works for me,” he laughed.
“Three gold medals can’t be wrong. I need all the help I can get.” I did an exaggerated step out onto the ice using my right foot.
“Feel okay?” Ben asked the minute I touched it to the ice.
I moved my now gigantic feet back and forth.
“Absolutely not,” I replied, trying to find a graceful way to stand but feeling like a duck. “My body usually goes into autopilot when I get out on the ice and Ican’t. It feels so weird! Like, where’s my toe pick?”
“No toe pick, and you’ve got a seventeen-inch-long blade, which is way longer than you should be in given your size and your newbie status. But beggars can’t be choosers, so we’ll make it work.”
Neil did graceful arcs around us a short distance away. I glanced over at Hailey and saw that she was filming as well.
“Okay, guess it’s time for me to humiliate myself. I’m all yours, coach.”
I went pink at the accidental implication, but Ben ignored it.
“Let’s first get you used to the new sensation,” he said. “Just move with me.”
My body tried to react as it normally would but my feet feltsluggish. Still, I managed to come across halfway graceful as I glided along beside him.
“Okay,” he nodded approvingly. “Looking good, Albright! We’re about to hit a corner, are you ready for crossovers?”
I attempted to do the move that I could perform forward, backward, and upside down in my regular skates. Crossovers were a foundational move I’d been doing since I was a child, but when I tried one in speed skates I nearly fell on my ass when my front blade hit my rear one. I threw my arms out to the side for balance like a newbie on the ice for the first time.
“So close,” he said encouragingly. “Try placing your foot down quicker and push through that crossover.”
I did another slightly more successful version the second time around.
“Okay, there she is! Gorgeous,” Ben applauded.
Praise from Ben did something to me even though I knew he was lying. I wanted to impress him. I wanted him to think that I was effortlessly good at the sport he’d dedicated his life to.
My crossovers continued to be shaky but I didn’t fall, so there was that.
“Okay, straightaway time.” He pointed down the rink. “Regular strides. Let’s get some speed.”
