“Quinn, tell me what you love about your sport.”
The little smile, the fixed gaze, the warmth in his tone... every bit of it unbalanced me, but in a good way. I now knew that I could let go and not feel like I needed to be on guard.
I met his smile with my own because he’d started with a softball question. “What do I love about figure skating?”
My usual sound bite wasrightthere, but I pivoted, because I wanted to give Ben my real feelings, not the same tired lines about the beauty of the sport that I’d been spitting out for years.
“I love the power of it,” I replied. “People view us like these delicate little dolls, but we’re hardcore athletes who are just as strong as we are graceful. We’ve got the endurance of a long-distance runner, and the strength of a weight lifter. Think about it—we defy gravity and fling our bodies through the air over and over, then land on a sliver of metal. Onice. It requires endurance and coordination unlike any other sport.”
“Agreed,” Ben said. “I’ve been skating my entire life but you’ve seen my sorry attempts at jumps.”
Had that moment with Nate just been a few days ago? It felt like we’d been one another’s shadow for way longer, in the best possible way.
“That’s what I’m talking about. It’s an art, but it’s also a literal science. Rotational speed, friction, gravity, force of impact... there’s a lot of math that goes into those pretty spins.”
“Which you’ve mastered,” Ben said with a nod. “You’re basically Michael Jordan on ice.”
I laughed at the unexpected comparison. “You think so? That’s a first.”
“I mean it,” he insisted, shifting closer in his seat. “When you jump, you hover before landing. Gravity doesn’t apply to youwhile you’re spinning. It’s like you’ve co-opted Jordan’s hang time. I haven’t seen any other skaters do it quite like you. It’s beautiful.”
Warmth spread in my chest. “Thank you. That might be the best compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
“How do you make that happen? What are the mechanics of flying the way you do?” Ben asked.
“Falling a ton at first,” I laughed as I admitted it. “I like to call it ‘falling to learn.’”
Ben tipped his head. “What does that mean?”
“Every time I fell as I tried to master a new move, I learned something. You know, like, maybe my arms weren’t pulled in tightly enough. Or maybe my takeoff was wonky. Each fall was an opportunity to dissect my mistakes, and then try it again without making them. Mel is great at zeroing in on what went wrong, and helping me figure out how to make it right.”
“That’s your coach, Melanie Kolakowski. Let’s talk about your partnership.”
“Mel,” I shook my head, smiling. “She’s the absolute best. We’ve accomplished so much since we started working together. It sounds cheesy, but I never thought a coach–athlete relationship could be like this. I, uh, wasn’t always lucky enough to have the kind of support I get from Mel.”
I knew exactly what I was opening myself up to by alluding to Carol. I’d never wanted to go there in prior interviews, but I felt safe with Ben. And I wanted to shine a light on what many young skaters often go through by sharing some of my story.
“What do you mean by that?” Ben probed gently, giving me the space to reverse if necessary.
I looked down at my clasped hands. “I was subjected to a fairly traditional training regime, starting at a very young age. There’sa precedent for rigorous training that borders on abuse because itworks. The podium has seen plenty of broken little girls who were taught to skate through their pain. To practice every day on an empty stomach, with just a sip of water to sustain them. It was all I knew for the longest time, so it was normalized for me. And hey, most of my friends were going through the same thing, so suck it up and skate, right? Pain fades eventually, but gold is forever.”
“Ouch,” Ben said softly.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “And what kills me is that the oversight just isn’t there, you know?” I started to say more but shut my mouth. As much as I wanted to throw a match at the governing organizations that looked the other way when athletes were hurting, now wasn’t the time.
Ben picked up on my abrupt stop. “Is it safe to say that working with Coach Mel helped you rediscover your love of skating?”
Another flirtation with my past, without coming out and addressing my crash and burn.
“Oh, I never stopped loving it. Even during the tough times,” I allowed. “I belong on the ice, but I definitely needed to find another way to feel at home there. Things got really bleak, as I’m sure you know. Aseveryoneknows.” I huffed out a hollow laugh.
His face went tight as he nodded. “But your focus is on the future. On Italy. How are you feeling about your chances?”
I wanted to jump out of my chair and kiss him on the mouth. He’d allowed me to hint at my difficulties without probing for more.
“I feel stronger than ever,” I said, sitting up straighter. “I adore my programs.”
“And how are you feeling about your competition? Ayumi? Beatrix?”
