Since I spent one third of my life at a Figure Skating Rink, wearing skating costumes that were so small underwear was NOT an option... I figure it's time for me to come clean on what I think of the sport.

When I was 15, I discovered that my opportunity to live a normal teenage life, with sleepovers and spin-the-bottle games with boys, would conflict with my six-day-a-week skating practices. It was then that I knew the time had come. It was time to say goodbye to a sport that had taught me perseverance, determination, and that jealousy really is the root of all evil.

As the U.S. National Figure Skating Championships [1] are held this year in my hometown, this very week, the memories and nightmares of my Figure Skating past are all coming back. I told my editor, Cristina, that I wanted to write about Figure Skating and my experience, but that it is virtually impossible for me to write about all my experiences in one blog post, therefore I will be dragging this out for a while.

Yes, therapy would spare you all the grave details, but admit it — you
all enjoy a good story that involves pretty people in pretty clothes, with a story line that would make a fantastic Lifetime Movie of the Week [2].

So, while you are watching in awe the unfolding of the National Figure
Skating Championships this weekend — wishing it was YOU wearing that beautiful little costume with your hair looking perfect after landing a triple toe (yes, I could land a triple toe loop) and getting a standing ovation from your audience — be glad you are NOT the one competing this weekend.

Before you continue, be forewarned: I must take my time developing this story if I am to remain completely forthcoming. I am going to need to go to the "Skating Spectacular" on Sunday to see, in person, those skaters who sacrificed their education, their childhood, and their innocence to go for the gold.

Come Monday, I will focus on My True Story: "My life as a competitive Figure Skater — I have a Gold Medal, but..."