Page 94 of Goal Line
Our free skate routine includes a triple twist, where Christopher throws me into the air and, with my legs crossed and my arms pulled close to my body, I rotate three times above his head, practically horizontal to the ice, before he does half a turn to catch my hips as I land on the outside edge of one skate.
However, for our practices while I’m pregnant, we’re only doing single twists so there’s less chance of me risking injury or him accidentally impacting my belly.
I drop my leg down to stop the backward glide that would normally lead me into the next element of our routine. “I’m feeling stronger, that’s for sure.” Stronger, yes, but my stamina still isn’t back up to par, if the way I’m panting out the words is any indication.
“You’re doing great,” Lynette says, and even though we’ve practiced almost daily with her for over a week, the affirmation still gets me a tad choked up. Christopher and I spent so long being constantly berated by Jessie that I think I forgot what it was like to have a positive coach. It’s not that Lynette doesn’t tell us when we need to be better, or what we need to do differently. But she doesn’t dwell only on the negative, she also tells us what we’re doing well to keep things balanced.
“Is that nutritionist I recommended helping?” she asks.
“The meals begin arriving today, so I’ll let you know. But I already started implementing her suggestions, and I’m noticing a difference.”
Honestly, I like feeling involved in the process, rather than letting my mom control everything. Understanding what changes are needed, and why, has made it easier for me to make healthier choices—whereas before, I had a strict diet to follow without really knowing why certain things were in place or what their relative importance was to my athletic performance.
I’m not sure why I didn’t push back and take more control of my own body and career sooner. Maybe it was guilt, because my parents had done so much to support my skating over the years and I wanted them to be proud of me? Maybe it was doubt that I had what it took to be in control of my own destiny? Maybe it was conflict avoidance because I didn’t want to fight with my mom?
And even though I hate the weight of my mom’s disapproval hanging over my head, I feel a hell of a lot better about myself and my skating career now that I’ve removed her strict control over both.
“Good,” she says before turning toward Christopher. “What about you? That toss into the twist looked a lot harder than it should have.”
Christopher’s neck gets the pink tinge that only happens when he’s embarrassed, which isn’t often. So I skate forward until I’m right next to him and say, “He’s throwing close to twenty pounds more than before.”
My belly has finally “popped” into a cute little bump, and my limbs aren’t as toned as they once were, even with the extra weight training I’ve added in. Sure, I’m building muscle, but there’s also extra pregnancy-related weight that I can’t do anything about—my breasts alone must account for an extra five pounds themselves.
“Okay, fair. But if you can throw a single twist while she’s twenty pounds heavier and pregnant,” Lynette says to Christopher, “I’m going to expect that triple after she has the baby to look absolutely effortless.”
“My part will. We’ll see how Eva does,” he says playfully, throwing an arm around my shoulders and giving me a quick squeeze.
“If I can do this pregnant, I’m gonna be juuuuust fine afterward,” I say with more confidence than I actually feel. Maybe I can manifest this victory if I don’t let myself picture anything except a gold medal at the Olympic qualifier?
“Yeah, we’ll probably surprise everyone and do a quad twist.” Christopher shrugs.
“You two are delusional,” Lynette says with a laugh, “but I like that about you. Let’s end on a high note and call it a day. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning.”
As we head off the ice, Christopher glances up at the stands where Luke is typically waiting for me. “Your bodyguard isn’t here to pick you up today?”
“He’s my husband, not my bodyguard. And my dad wanted to have lunch today, so I’m going to meet him closer to the practice rink in Brighton.”
Christopher steps off the ice and bends to slide his guards over his blades. “How are you getting over there?”
“I’m driving.”
“Any chance you can give me a ride? I’m meeting Jenn for lunch in Kenmore Square.”
“Is Jennthe girl?”
So far, Christopher has only referenced “the girl I’m talking to,” but never by name.
“Yeah, we’re going to grab lunch, because she’s flying out tonight for a series of meetings in New York and won’t be back until Friday.”
“Oh my god,” I say, my face etched with mock horror. “What will you do with yourself if she’s gone for a few nights?”
In truth, I’m relieved that Christopher has someone to keep him occupied. Given that he left all his friends behind in LA—the only place he’s ever lived—I was worried that this would be a hard adjustment for him. But I knew I couldn’t spend a lot of extra time with Christopher—beyond the hours we already skate together each day—without adding unnecessary friction to his already tenuous relationship with Luke.
Hopefully, now that Luke is more secure in our relationship, that will be less of an issue. But I also want to respect the fact that I would probably be pretty unhappy if Luke was spending a lot of time with someone he thought he’d had feelings for previously.
Christopher chuckles as he sits to unlace his skates. “Probably a lot of nights spent on FaceTime.”
I sink into my seat right next to him. “You really like her, huh?”
