Figure Skating · Community · Beginners Welcome
Arctic Ice
Former competitive skater, TikTok creator, and your biggest cheerleader on ice.
Welcome
Hi — I'm Anna, or @arcticanna on TikTok. Welcome to Arctic Ice.
I laced up my first pair of skates at eight years old and fell completely in love. By ten I was competing, and for the next six years skating was everything — early mornings, long drives to rinks, programmes I practised until they lived in my body. I was serious about it. I genuinely loved it.
But when I was sixteen, I stopped. Not because I wanted to. I was carrying a lot of unmanaged mental health struggles that made the pressure of competition feel impossible. At the time I didn't have the words for what I was going through, and I didn't have the support I needed. So I walked away from something I loved deeply — and that was one of the hardest things I've ever done.
I never stopped entirely. I'd go back occasionally, alone, just for the feeling of it. But it wasn't until I was 21 that I returned with real intention — setting new goals, working on my progress, and slowly rebuilding a relationship with skating that actually felt good. Not just physically, but mentally too.
That shift taught me something I wish someone had told me much earlier: skating is supposed to fit into your life, not consume it.
This time around I think about things differently. I skate alongside work, rest, and a social life — not instead of them. I take recovery seriously. I listen to my body when it needs a break. I don't push through bad mental health days and call it discipline. And I've found that skating from that place — a balanced, sustainable one — actually makes me a better skater than I ever was when I was grinding through it.
You can love skating and still have a full life. You can have goals and still rest. You can be a skater and still be a whole person.
That's what Arctic Ice is about. I want this to be the resource I wish I'd had — honest guides for beginners, real talk about the mental side of sport, gear I actually use, and a community where there's no pressure to be anything other than where you are right now. Whether you've never stepped on ice before, or you're coming back after years away, or you're somewhere in between — you belong here.
— Anna 🤍
Six years of early mornings, programmes, and pure love for the sport — before life got complicated.
I stepped away at 16 to protect my wellbeing. Coming back at 21 meant learning to skate without sacrificing myself.
Skating fits into a full life — not the other way around. Rest, recovery, and real goals all matter here.
Beginner, returning skater, or just curious — no pressure, no comparison. Just people who love the ice.
Shop · Clothing
Practice dresses, warm-ups & performance wear — all on Amazon
Anna is putting together her honest picks for this section. Sign up below to be the first to know.
Shop · Equipment
Off-ice training equipment I actually use and recommend
Anna is putting together her gym tool picks. Sign up below to be the first to know when it goes live.
Bag Essentials
Everything I never show up to the rink without
Anna is putting together her bag essentials. Sign up below to be the first to know when it goes live.
From the Journal
Stories, tips & everything skating
From stretch band warm-ups to spin board practice — here's exactly how I spend my mornings before heading to the rink.
Affordable, cute, and actually functional.
It took two years and a lot of stretch bands.
The process of finding music that truly connects with your skating is more emotional than technical.
The exercises that actually translate to the ice.
If you're not falling, you're not trying hard enough.
Free Resources
Step-by-step guides to help you train smarter on and off the ice
A 20-minute pre-rink warm-up covering stretching, balance work, and jump technique prep. Perfect for every level.
Read the Guide →Why spins go wrong and how to fix them off-ice. Includes a daily spin board drill routine and centring exercises.
Read the Guide →A 4-week progressive stretching plan targeting spirals, Biellmann, layback and arabesque positions.
Read the Guide →Which gym exercises actually help your skating — and which ones don't. A skater-specific strength programme.
Read the Guide →How to safely practise axel, lutz, and flip jump takeoffs without ice. Includes harness belt training tips.
Read the Guide →Managing nerves, visualisation routines, and how to skate your best when it counts most.
Read the Guide →Journal · Mental Skills
I've been working on my double axel. Off the ice, I have it. Consistent, repeatable, mine. On the ice — I avoid it. I circle around it in practice, find reasons to run through something else first, tell myself I'll get to it. And when I do attempt it, something in me pulls back at the last second. Not my body. My brain.
That gap between what your body knows and what your brain will allow is one of the strangest, most frustrating places to exist as a skater. Because the skill is there. I can feel it when I do it off-ice — the rotation, the timing, the landing. My body knows exactly what to do. But the moment I'm on the ice, a mental block steps in front of it like a wall, and suddenly I'm convincing myself I can't.
Your brain has to trust your body to succeed. And building that trust is a skill in itself — one nobody really teaches you.
I've also been noticing something else lately. The days where every element feels stiff, heavy, graceless — where I can't seem to complete anything cleanly — they're not random. When I look back at them honestly, they almost always follow the same pattern: a poor warm-up, days where I skipped off-ice work, a week where consistency slipped. My body wasn't failing me on those days. It was telling me something.
Off-ice training used to feel optional to me. Something extra. But I'm learning it's actually the foundation. When I'm consistent with my strength, mobility, and flexibility work — when I'm actually feeling my body working and responding — I show up to the ice feeling connected to myself. More in tune. Like I know what I'm working with. And that feeling of being in tune is what makes trust possible.
When I'm not doing that work, I feel disconnected. And a disconnected body is one your brain won't trust to land a double axel.
Overtraining is the cause of so many bad days, injuries, and plateaus. Rest isn't a reward — it's part of the work.
I think when I was younger and competing, I believed that more hours meant more progress. Push through the stiffness. Push through the fear. Push through the bad session. And sometimes that works — but more often, what I actually needed was rest. A day off. A walk. Eight hours of sleep. The willingness to go back to basics and move slowly through something I thought I already knew.
Balance isn't the thing you allow yourself once you've done enough. Balance is what creates the conditions for progress in the first place. It's what lets your nervous system recover. It's what lets your brain relax enough to stop guarding you from your own skills.
So right now, with the double axel, I'm trying to stop forcing it. I'm going back to the basics — working the takeoff, the rotation, the muscle memory — and I'm being consistent with my off-ice work so that when I step onto the ice, my body feels familiar to me. So that my brain has evidence to trust.
It's slower than I want it to be. But I think that's the point.
If you're stuck on a skill — on ice, or in any sport — before you decide your technique is wrong or your body isn't capable, ask yourself: does your brain actually trust your body right now? Are you rested? Are you warmed up? Have you been consistent? Are you feeling connected, or are you running on empty and wondering why nothing feels right?
The mental block might not be a mindset problem. It might just be your brain waiting for enough evidence that it's safe to let go.
— Anna 🤍
More from the Journal