You busted your butt for months or sometimes even years to master this one jump. And one day, it clicks. You can finally do it. You finally trust it. It's a feeling unlike anything else, you are on top of the world.
But it usually doesn't last long.
The next day or week, for some unpredictably maddening reason, you come into practice and the jump has a mind of its own. Your body no longer knows how to execute it. Suddenly it's not you controlling the jump but the jump controlling you. The past year and a half spent trying to master the element is erased. You go home that night and put your aching feet in an ice bucket as you cry in frustration. It might seem a ridiculous thing to cry about to some, but you can't judge it until you've experienced it.
The frustration can nearly drive you insane. You go back to practice with high hopes thinking maybe it was just one bad day. But before your very eyes, that bad day turns into a bad week that turns into a bad month. You think you'll never land the jump again. You're about ready to give up.
And then one random day of practice, out of the blue, there it is. Your body suddenly remembers. The jump reappears as if you never lost it, as if you never even struggled to land it in the first place. The feeling is unparalleled. As if you have climbed the most treacherous mountain and come out on the other side.
There's no other way to describe the pattern except purely addicting.
For years, I reveled in this addiction. The highs were so extremely high and the lows felt like the depths of the ocean. I would throw myself into the same jump over and over again for hours on end, swearing I wouldn't leave the rink until I had landed it perfectly. By the end of the day, my blisters would be bleeding, my body aching, and my knees just about ready to give out beneath me.
And yet, I came back every day and did it again. It's almost as if your worth gets wrapped up in being able to perfectly execute this one single element. These three revolutions taking off from your back outside edge and landing cleanly backward on your right leg. It's as if these three revolutions own you.