Dear Mom,

This morning at skating today was not my best practice. Of course I started my day out like any other day at 4:45, but it was pouring rain and pitch black outside. I got my skating clothes on and packed all of my bags, and after quickly eating a bowl of cereal, I shot out the door. I had to run through the rain which left me freezing cold once the air conditioning came on in the car, which was not pleasant at all. Dad and I got to the ice rink in about 10 minutes, and then I had to encounter the pouring rain once again to get into the ice rink complex. Once I made it safely inside at 5:40 , my coach immediately made me drop my bags and run laps around near the shops in the building. This was definitely my least favorite way to start a morning. Once I was all warmed up, he made me lace up my skates and get on the ice. Within five minutes, I had already fallen face first because of being half asleep and tripping over a giant chunk of ice because the Zamboni hadn’t done a good job. The rest of practice was all basically hearing my coaches yell at me because I was falling on very basic and consistent jumps as small as single jumps. I heard the phrases “jump higher” and “skate faster” what it seemed like a million times. I got off to change into my clothes for school, but as I got into the bathrooms to change the light wasn’t on and I couldn’t turn it on because the room with the light switches was locked. I ended up getting ready in the dark which lead to me falling over a trash can and putting my shoes on backwards. I said my goodbyes to the people at the rink, even though I would see them less than 12 hours later jumping rope, running and slipping all over the ice.

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The arena is dead silent, but then I hear loud cheers call out from everywhere around me as I see a blonde girl gracefully step onto the ice, and then stand in her starting position. The rhinestones on her dress sparkle as all of the lights flash because of people getting every picture they can of her while she is out for as little as four minutes. The loud and beautiful music blares out of the speakers as she begins to glide across the smooth ice. She begins with footwork that fits together like a puzzle piece, and then onto one of her incredible jumps that consists of three rotations in the air. She lands it with so much ease as her back leg extends, and a joyful look is expressed on her face. Her program is put together so carefully with creativity and steps that no one had ever seen before.

She continued on landing double and triples and weaving in perfect movements and steps in between each element that were perfectly in synch with the music. What looks like the smallest push, got her half way across the ice and into a never ending spin with multiple positions that seemed almost impossible to accomplish. Once the music had ended and she had completed a successful clean program, she was awarded not only with a first place medal, but an applause out of every single person in the arena.

As I slowly walked to the fogged up glass doors of the Factory at Wake Forest, I vaguely spotted a long wide hallway with what it seemed like never ending ceilings with grey pipes visible at the very top. The floors had not changed one bit, still concrete with a waxed finished that looked so bright that you could almost see your reflection. As I took a few more steps, I felt the floor beneath my feet at an angle, like I was going up a very short ramp.

I took a right turn into a giant opening in the wall where the ice rink was located. The cheap looking blue and black rubber flooring had been replaced with new sleek black floors. The walls had been painted a lovely light blue color all the way up to the top of the high ceilings. The few banners on the walls before had been accompanied by at least double the number. There were both digital banners and fabric banners. The skate rental had been upgraded with all new quality skates, with new stuffed full of skates. There was a large, grey spinning rack that was controlled by a single computer which was much more convenient than stressing a worker out by searching all over the small room for skates. The snack bar had at least triple the amount of options with foods snacks, and some that I had never seen in my life. There were still two sheets of ice on either side of me, but new colorful and crazy lights had been installed in the ceilings. The lights were dizzying, as the variety of colors swirled all around ice that was as smooth as a single piece of paper. The air inside brushed my face and sent a chilling feeling from my head all the way down to my toes, as if you had just stepped out of your house on a freezing cold January morning. After searching around the rink, I decided to go check out the rest of the complex.

Down the ginormous hallway and to the right was my favorite restaurant called Ziggy’s Pizza. The bright signature red Ziggy’s sign remained the same, but the interior had evolved from a little Italian Pizzeria, to a large sports bar with synchronized televisions surrounding me. The comforting smell of pizza greeted me as I walked further back towards the kitchen. I spotted large grey stones as they outlined the opening in the wall where you could watch the chefs as they cooked your five star meals. Conveyer belts replaced the tables in the kitchen, new and improved devices that I had never seen before sat out along the tight walls in the kitchen. I could see the exact spot where a booth used to be set up to the right, but now there was a giant wall sized TV in its place.  where I would always sit with my friends if our parents were running late or forgot about us while we practiced. The new building was much improved and modernized, but it was still obvious that I was in the same spot 200 years later.