Be a Beginner.
It’s Supposed to Feel New.

Anything you are not used to is going to feel crazy at first.

I was thinking about that while teaching my students tonight. It was the second week of class, and they came in uncertain about rolling forward. I could see that holding ready posture and adjusting their bodies into proper form was tiring. They did not like how it felt.

And honestly? Nobody likes how doing something new feels.

It is uncomfortable. You are asking your body to find a position it does not know yet, then trust that position while the floor moves underneath you.

Your body is learning a new language

As a beginner, you are learning to bend your knees, engage your core and keep your pelvis and upper body organized while you roll. At the same time, everything in you may feel tense because you do not yet know how to control your speed or direction.

There is a whole lot going on. It does not feel natural because it is not natural yet.

That last word matters.

Awkward is not the same as incapable. Uncomfortable is not the same as unsafe. Struggling is not the same as failing.

Good coaching may not let you stay comfortable

People give up when the correction feels harder than the habit. But I am not going to watch someone roll with poor alignment and say nothing simply because the incorrect position feels easier in the moment.

I know what can happen when you do not understand what your body needs. I had to learn about my own collapsed arch, knee stability, hip mobility, core strength and glute strength after I had already been skating. I had to build the support my body needed so I could move with greater control and reduce unnecessary strain.

That has been a journey. I have gotten some things right and some things wrong. It has taken me longer than I would have liked to get where I am, and even now, it is still work.

But now the work is enjoyable.

A good coach cannot diagnose an injury or replace a physical therapist, but they can teach sound fundamentals, observe movement patterns, offer appropriate progressions and encourage you to seek qualified care when something falls outside their scope.

Strength creates room for freedom

The stronger and more comfortable I became in my body, the more I could stop overthinking every movement.

When I skate alone, I can zone out. I listen to music I love and think about nothing except what I am doing in that moment. At the rink, I am getting there too, although I still think more when I am navigating other skaters and the space around me.

That feeling—being completely present—is one of my favorite things about skating. As someone whose mind is almost always working on something, it is a relief.

But that freedom did not appear before the fundamentals. It grew out of them. The posture, drills, corrections and strength work gave me enough control to relax.

The goal is not to think about every detail forever. The goal is to practice the details until your body can carry some of the thinking for you.

I am still a student too

I sometimes hesitate to call the people I coach “my students” because I am still a student myself. There is always another skill to refine, another movement to understand and another layer of body awareness to develop.

That is part of why I coach. If I can use both my skating experience and my fitness knowledge to help someone progress more efficiently—and do it with attention to safety—then my own long learning curve becomes useful.

I cannot make the beginning feel familiar. But I can help make it clearer.

Stop performing for people who are not watching

What are you afraid of: looking funny in front of other people, or looking funny to yourself?

Most people are not paying you nearly as much attention as you imagine. Experienced skaters may notice you, but that does not mean they are judging you. We have all been beginners. We remember the tense legs, uncertain rolls and awkward attempts.

And sometimes nobody else is there at all. You are practicing alone, watching yourself struggle, deciding you do not like how you look—and stopping.

Do not abandon yourself like that.

A beginner is not a bad skater. A beginner is a skater at the beginning.

Record yourself—and talk to yourself nicely

Use your phone as a learning tool, not a weapon against yourself. Record a short practice session and watch it back with curiosity.

You might notice:

• “I liked how that movement felt. I want to explore it more.”
• “My knee seems to collapse inward there. I should return to my ready posture and slow the drill down.”
• “I felt more stable on the second attempt.”
• “That did not work today, but now I know what to practice.”

Look for information, not evidence that you should be embarrassed. Speak to yourself the way a thoughtful coach would.

Let yourself meet the next version of you

If you genuinely try skating and discover that you do not enjoy it, that is completely fine. Not every activity is meant for every person.

But if you are stopping only because you feel awkward, because progress is slow or because you do not look the way you imagined yet—pause before you quit.

Are you going to stay inside the same comfortable routine and keep getting the same results? Or are you willing to feel new for a while so you can grow into someone you have not met yet?

That version of you may be stronger, more confident, more expressive or simply more willing to try. You only meet them by moving through the part where you do not know what you are doing.

Value your solo sessions. Learn from the corrections. Talk to yourself nicely.

Be a beginner. It is okay.