Curling: Yoga on the Rocks

Curling: it's harder than it looks, Internet. Let me tell you of its agonies and ecstasies.

First of all, let me explain that everything I know about curling comes from (in order) 1) the Simpsons, b) friends Amanda & Joel, and iii) watching it every four years during the Olympics.

I've heard it's terribly fun (see reason b above), so last month, a few friends and I decided to check out this curling thing. One friend bowed out, the one on the right in the picture above was jet-lagged (having just returned from Europe the day before), and then there are the two of us on the left (both six feet tall, with centers of gravity not all that close to earth...or so it felt on this particular evening).

We showed up for our three hour clinic, and as we did, I kept wondering how on earth this could take a full three hours. Let me tell you, Internet, the time flew. And furthermore? If they'd given us a quiz on all of the stuff they taught us in one short evening? I'd have failed. (I mean, look at wikipedia's glossary of terms, alone! See what I mean?)

First up: sweeping. That was probably the best it was ever going to get for me. Just like Marge Simpson, this was my shining moment (and possibly a lot of other people's best moments, also). We rocked that sweeping like nobody's business. (Never mind there weren't any actual rocks on the ice at this point. We just swept the ice and tried not to trip over our own - or anyone else's - feet.)

Second up: lunging. Before they even gave us any rocks to play with, they wanted us to begin working on our pose. Now, I can do a lunge on a regular surface in real life. I could even do one on the ice while we were just standing there watching the demonstration. But see, the thing you don't see on the 'lympics is that they have these special shoes. One of them is extremely slippery on the bottom. So to make up for the fact that none of us had these special shoes, our instructors then gave us these shoe-shaped pieces of plastic they call "sliders." They do exactly what you'd think: they make you slide. A lot. So imagine attempting to do a lunge or some sort of yoga warrior pose, on ice, as you push yourself off what they call a "hack" (similar to the push-off device you see in track events).

The whole point of practicing the lunge without the rock is that you are supposed to be able to completely balance yourself and get the motion down without the rock - because you don't want to put any of your weight on the rock. That's bad. You only want to use the tips of your fingers on the rock's handle, and then you want the motion you use to send it to be nice and fluid. So, no rocks at first. You step on your slider, put the broom on the ice with its handle shoved up in your armpit (to help you balance yourself), and then push off the hack, keeping your butt down as you lunge, holding your position until you come to a gentle stop before the line (imagining all the while that you've actually had a rock and knew what to do with it at the right time).

Essentially, I took this to mean that you are to push off in what you think might be something resembling a lunge, and then pray that you don't fall over. I didn't fall completely over at this point (as some did), but I couldn't seem to keep my right leg extended behind me. I dropped that right knee into the ice so hard and so often, I ended up with some major bruising on it (that finally went away a month later).

But let me tell you about one awesome thing (the biggest ecstasy, I suppose you could say) about curling! If you fall over, you're already icing your future bruises! So just stay there an extra few seconds (or minutes) and enjoy the nice, cold feeling that will help alleviate the swelling and discoloration.

Third up: the rock. So at this point - after lunging all over the place - they finally gave us rocks to throw. Again, the goal is to not put any of your weight on the rock, and you want to deliver it just right - spinning in the right direction, moving at the right speed, aiming for the correct spot. This is the point where, after I threw one passable rock, I then promptly started sacrificing my body to send better-delivered rocks. This meant more bruising, and much more falling all over the place. Plus, every time I lunged, I somehow managed to, halfway through my delivery, lose the slider, and it would go shooting three sheets over into another game (sorry!). I was getting marginally better with my aim and distance, but horribly worse with my lunging technique.

Anyway, we got to play a few ends, and before I knew it, our three hours was up. I would love to go back and play more, but you pretty much have to join up with a league, and a three-month commitment is a bit more than I can handle right now. But maybe someday...I mean, you have to know that (just like the Simpsons), this is my last shot at the Olympics! (um, never mind that our instructor - who competes on the world circuit - has been doing this since she was 12. There may still be hope for me yet! or not.)

xoxo,

Minny LinnEy