On the Ice and Beyond: My Journey with Figure Skating and MS ⛸️💕

Hello deer, this is Seri 🌸

Figure skating has been a part of my life for so long now. From the moment I saw Mao Asada glide across the ice at age 11, something inside me stirred, a spark of magic, beauty, and possibility. I wanted to be like her, to feel that same freedom and grace.

But life has its twists. Years of skating gave me strength, joy, and a language beyond words until multiple sclerosis slowly changed the way my body moves and responds. Still, the ice calls to me, even if differently now.

In this post, I want to share my journey: from those first tentative steps on the ice, to performing in beautiful galas in Korea, to learning how to protect my body and my joy while skating with MS. I’ll also reflect on what skating means in Japan, a culture that has nurtured this sport into a beloved art form.

❄️ The Beginning

I was 11 the first time I saw Mao Asada skate. It felt like watching something not quite human. Light, graceful, full of strength and emotion. I jumped out of bed and ran to my parents in the living room.

“Mama, Papa, I want to do figure skating!”

My dad had hoped I’d do judo like my brother. But my mom wasn’t surprised at all. She had always known I’d choose a sport like that. I couldn’t think of anything else. I had always liked moving, but skating looked like something from another world.

My first time on the ice was difficult. I slipped, fell, and wanted to give up. But I kept going. It took two full years before I truly felt comfortable. And once I did, it became home.

Skating wasn’t just mine alone, it was something my parents shared with me, in small but important ways.

My dad was always there, quietly supporting me. He came with me to every lesson, even when it meant early mornings and long waits. Sometimes he carried my skate bag when my arms felt too tired. His calm presence was a comfort on days when the ice felt intimidating.

Before performances, my mom took care of the details that made me feel ready. She carefully helped with my makeup : soft pink blush, just the right touch of sparkle. She fixed my hair and gave me gentle encouragement when nerves crept in. Her belief in me was like a warm shield, holding me steady when I doubted myself.

Their love and support were part of every glide and every jump even when I didn’t realize it.

Figure skating is a unique mix of sport and art, and it asks a lot from both your body and mind.

It can be really challenging at first. You have to learn to balance on thin blades, glide smoothly, control spins and jumps, and perform with emotion, all at the same time. It takes strength, flexibility, focus, and courage.

For most people, it takes about 1 to 2 years of regular practice just to feel comfortable on the Ice like gliding, stopping, and turning without fear. This was true for me too. It took me a full two years before I truly felt at ease.

Learning more advanced moves like jumps and spins usually takes 3 to 5 years, and reaching a competitive or professional level can take much longer often a decade or more of steady training.

But “being good” is different for everyone. It’s not only about perfect technique or trophies. For me, it was about feeling joy and connection with the ice, no matter how fast or graceful I was.

🕊️ What Skating Gave Me

Skating shaped how I think, how I feel, how I move.

It taught me discipline. Not just routines or training, but how to keep going through discomfort. It taught me how to focus, how to stay present in my body, how to work for something that takes time.

Emotionally, it gave me space to express things I couldn’t always say. I could pour everything into my movements, even feelings I didn’t understand yet.

Skating became a way to feel free. Moving with the music, I could leave everything behind.

⛸️ What Figure Skating Gave Me: Physically, Mentally, and Spiritually

Physically

Skating is a full-body workout. It builds strength in your legs and core, improves balance and flexibility, and challenges your coordination. Gliding across the ice trains your muscles to move smoothly and with control. Over time, skating helped me feel stronger and more connected to my body, even on days when it felt weak.

Mentally

Skating taught me focus and patience. Every new skill — whether a jump or a spin — requires practice, repetition, and resilience. It pushed me to be disciplined without losing the joy of movement. On the ice, my worries often faded; the rhythm of gliding calmed my mind and helped me find clarity. Skating became a space where I could challenge myself and build confidence, step by step.

Spiritually

There’s a quiet magic in skating : a dance between the body and the frozen world beneath your blades. It invites you to be present, to listen deeply to your own rhythm and breath. For me, skating was more than sport; it was a way to express emotions I couldn’t put into words and to feel free in a world that sometimes felt heavy. It connected me to something larger, a moment of grace, beauty, and belonging.

✨ Performances, Not Competitions

I never enjoyed competing. It made me anxious, and my trainer pressured me in ways that didn’t feel right. I knew early on I wouldn’t become a professional, and that was okay. Skating was never about medals for me.

What I loved were performances. Shows, seasonal events, skating galas. One of the most special was in Korea. Skating there felt like a dream. I met inspiring people and shared the ice with those who understood what it meant to love this sport deeply.

For a while, I skated in a duo. My partner was incredibly strong and could lift me with one hand. It felt like flying.

Skating with a partner is unlike skating alone. It’s a dance built on trust — trusting someone else with your balance, your safety, your timing. You learn to listen without words, to feel the smallest shifts in their movement, and to adjust yourself gently, again and again.

It taught me patience like nothing else. Moves don’t click perfectly right away. You fall out of sync, stumble, or misread a signal. But through practice, with calm persistence, the two bodies start to move as one. That slow weaving of timing and balance is a kind of quiet conversation, a blend of listening, waiting, and responding.

Partner skating also taught me vulnerability. Letting someone hold you up, sometimes literally, means setting aside pride and opening yourself to connection. It’s scary and beautiful all at once.

Through this shared journey on the ice, I learned that skating isn’t just about skill or strength, it’s about relationships, patience, and trust. Those lessons extend far beyond the rink, into life itself.

Performing in galas was another kind of magic. Unlike competitions, galas are about celebration and expression. This unforgettable one in Korea, the preparation, the excitement, the soft glow of the arena lights, the carefully chosen costume that made me feel like a character in a dream. Backstage jitters mixed with warmth as everyone encouraged one another.

When the music started, all nerves melted away. The ice became a stage for joy and artistry. After the performance, the applause felt like a quiet conversation between me and the audience, a shared moment suspended in time.

These experiences reminded me why I loved skating, not for medals or titles, but for the chance to create something beautiful with others, to feel alive and seen.

Looking back, I think one reason I never loved competitions is because I wanted skating to stay joyful.

When there's too much pressure, the joy starts to fade. The focus shifts to scores, judgment, comparison and for someone like me, who feels things deeply, that can become heavy. I didn’t want skating to feel like a fight. I wanted it to remain something beautiful. Something I loved, not something I had to prove.

I think this choice reflects who I am.

I’m not drawn to conflict or hierarchy. I’m drawn to connection, to beauty, to the emotional side of movement. Skating, for me, wasn’t about being the best. It was about expressing something I couldn’t say with words. And I could only do that when I felt safe.

That’s why performances meant so much more to me. They allowed space for feeling. For creativity. For love.

🌫️ When Things Changed

Multiple sclerosis changed everything.

My body started to resist the things it once did with ease. Skating became more uncertain. Some days I had the energy, some days I didn’t. My balance, my strength, even my coordination began to shift.

It was hard emotionally. Skating had been my structure, my joy, my release. Stepping back felt like losing a part of myself.

I eventually discovered aerial dance. It’s very different, but it gave me another way to move and express. A way to reconnect with my body. It didn’t replace skating, but it helped me.

The advices I got to still practice skating with MS :

❄️ 1. Focus on Feeling, Not Technique

Instead of aiming for jumps or spins, focus on flowing movements : edges, glides, turns, and interpretation with music. These allow your body to reconnect with skating without high impact or risk of over-fatigue.

Let yourself feel the rhythm, the blades, the air. That’s skating too.

⛸️ 2. Use Adaptive Strategies

❄️Skate shorter sessions. Even 15–20 minutes can feel fulfilling.

❄️Plan rest days in between sessions.

❄️Warm up before getting on the ice to reduce spasticity or stiffness.

❄️Skate during quiet hours when the rink is emptier, so you feel safer and less pressured.

❄️If balance is unpredictable, a coach or physical therapist might help you try balance aids or even design custom exercises on the ice.

🧘‍♀️ 3. Adjust Expectations with Kindness

Your body has changed, that doesn’t mean skating is lost. It just means your relationship to it is evolving.

Let go of needing to “achieve.” Replace it with exploring. Even if all you do is glide to music in a circle, that’s still skating. That’s still you.

🛼4.Stay Connected to Skating Off the Ice Too

If on-ice time becomes too limited, you can still nourish your skating soul through:

🩰 Off-ice dance, ballet, or stretching

💃🏻 Choreographing in your mind or on paper

📺 Watching programs that inspire you

🎶Music visualization, imagining movement to songs you love

This keeps the emotional connection alive, even when your body needs rest.

❄️ Why Cold Helps with MS and Skating

Cool temperature reduces nerve stress

MS affects how nerves conduct signals. When the body gets too warm, those signals can slow down or misfire. Cold helps keep your nervous system calmer, meaning your coordination and strength might feel more reliable on the ice.

Less overheating = less fatigue

Because the rink is cold, you’re less likely to overheat like you might during hot-weather sports or even indoor dance. This helps conserve energy and prevent sudden exhaustion.

Soothing for inflammation and spasms

The cold can also reduce muscle spasticity or pain in some people, making it easier to move freely.

💡 Tip: Dress carefully

Even though the rink is cold, your body still needs to stay warm enough to stay flexible. Wearing layers (like leg warmers, gloves, fleece-lined tights, soft hat) keeps your muscles warm without overheating your core.

🌷 Today

I don’t skate often anymore. Time, energy, and MS make it difficult. But I still visit the rink from time to time.

Even when I’m not skating, it’s still part of me. It shaped how I walk, how I carry myself, how I see beauty. It gave me more than just a skill. It gave me a way to feel alive, to communicate without words.

When I started skating again after my MS diagnosis, it felt like stepping onto the ice with a new body.

My mind remembered everything : the music, the movement, the feeling of flying. But my body didn’t always follow. My balance had changed. My energy was unpredictable. And I felt afraid of falling in ways I never used to be.

But I still wanted to skate. I needed to.

So I made a choice: I started using protective gear.

It wasn’t about giving up elegance.

It was about keeping joy in my life.

✧ Here’s what I wear:

A soft, low-profile helmet or padded hat (warm and safe)

Wrist guards, because fatigue slows reflexes and I’d rather protect my hands than break a fall with bare skin

Thin knee pads under leggings or tights — hardly visible, but such a relief

Padded shorts (some look just like normal leggings) to protect my hips and tailbone on uncertain days

❗ What It Won’t Do:

It won’t prevent fatigue, heat sensitivity, or nerve-based movement changes, that still needs pacing, rest, and listening to the body.

But it reduces the consequences of a bad fall or accident.

💬 To the Girl on the Ice

If I could speak to my younger self — the girl with bruised knees and stars in her eyes — I would tell her this:

⛸️❄️ Keep going. You are learning more than how to spin or jump. You’re learning how to grow, how to keep your heart open, how to love something fully even when it hurts.

You won’t stay on the ice forever. But it will always stay inside you.

🇯🇵 Skating and Japan

Figure skating holds a special place in Japanese hearts. It’s not just seen as a sport, it’s an elegant blend of athleticism and artistry, deeply admired by the public.

Skating arrived in Japan in the early 1900s, with the first rink built in Yokohama in 1901.

But true popularity began to grow in the 1990s and 2000s, thanks to athletes like Midori Ito (the first woman to land a triple axel in international competition) and later Shizuka Arakawa, who won Japan's first Olympic gold in figure skating in 2006.

Then came Mao Asada and Yuzuru Hanyu, and everything changed.

Their artistry, elegance, and humility captured hearts across generations. TV audiences grew, children enrolled in lessons, and figure skating became a beloved national passion.

When I was young, watching skating on TV felt like entering a dream. The music, the elegance, the audience watching so silently, it felt sacred. It wasn’t just about medals. It was about beauty. Expression. Heart.

Skating is connected to ideas of beauty, effort (努力 / doryoku), and grace core values in Japanese culture.

🎤 Famous Skating Shows in Japan

✧ Fantasy on Ice

One of the most prestigious ice shows in Japan. Known for its musical collaborations live singers (like Toshi, Sarah Alainn) perform while skaters glide to the music. Yuzuru Hanyu often performed here, making it legendary.

✧ The Ice

Started by Mao Asada’s family and management. It often features young international stars and is known for its joyful, warm-hearted mood.

✧ Stars on Ice (Japan tour)

The Japanese version of the global tour. High-level, elegant, and often showcasing Olympic athletes in graceful, story-driven numbers.

✧ Prince Ice World

Japan’s longest-running ice show, originally started by Prince Hotel group. It has a traditional charm, with a mix of group performances and solo acts, very nostalgic and local.