Skating for the love of it

Getting up at my house before the cows had stirred had two distinct flavours. Mom's and Dad's.

Mom had the gentle approach, cooing in my ear and nudging me to life, letting me sleep another five minutes or so.

But Dad flipped the light on and loudly raised me from the dead, waited five seconds, and repeated the process until I was on my feet.

Then he announced breakfast was already on the table so every second counted because the longer I took the colder it got. Mom prepared breakfast to be eaten during the half-hour drive to town and the rink.

It was a quiet, perfect time of day. Often we would stop to watch the Northern Lights dance their way across the sky.

This meant stopping the car and maybe being a few minutes late, a reasonable sacrifice, we thought.

I miss those mornings very, very much. They were about love, commitment and sacrifice.

So now I am to be honoured by the sport I have felt honoured to be a part of the better part of my life, it's a good time to take perspective of such things.

When I decided to get serious about figure skating -- around the time I was just beginning to find my slapshot but that other bigger hockey players had hard shoulders -- I entered into it without too many expectations.

I knew I wanted to skate but had no idea I would still be skating 15 years later.

I certainly didn't know it would become my job and take me all over the world. Had I known, I would have been much more nervous.

For young skaters today, like those at the national championships at the Saddledome this week, things are much different.

Times have changed and our sport has grown. Even though skating may still have the occasional growing pain, many good things have happened.

And it is up to these new skaters to keep it strong.

The rewards have grown, too, and even the youngsters at the local rink are aware of it. So somehow everything seems more important because the wins are bigger and the losses harder.

There's more pressure on the new skaters and maybe that means some of the enjoyment is being lost.

My parents never ever expected me to pay them back financially simply because we didn't comprehend the possibilities that were going to present themselves later.

It must be difficult for skaters these days to feel loose and relaxed out there when they know this skate could change their future -- not to mention taking care of that second mortgage on their parents' house.

So, though the sport has grown and the expectations, too, I would like to challenge a few of the skaters participating in these Canadian championships.

I dare you to go out there and have a bit of fun.

In the midst of all the pressure, TV lights and interviews, find a few moments to remember why you started skating in the first place.

It's probably the same reason you haven't quit so far -- because you enjoy it and love it.

So go share that enjoyment and love with the audience and don't forget that we need them to come and watch us skate and that they are on our side.

My coach, Michael Jiranek, always joked with me and made me laugh and that allowed me to enjoy the competition itself. It kept me loose and happy and made it easier to relax out there.

He always said that as soon as I got on the plane to go to the competition, all the work had been done. All I had left to do was enjoy myself.

Some time this week, a skater will step on to the Saddledome ice and almost instantly the audience and the judges will recognize that he or she really wants to be there, that this skater really wants to skate.

It will be he or she who will stand out and be remembered.

I know it is not easy, but trust in this: "What got you there will keep you going."

So have fun out there.

I dare you, guys.