To be fair, it's sometimes hard to tell which outfits are appropriate and which aren't. (Source)

It's 4:00AM and Tina Toeloop is gingerly easing a pair of tights over yesterday's bruises in order to make way for the new set that is sure to come soon. She layers on her black skating pants, with the built-in butt and hip pads that could probably protect against a missile blast (yet still don't do squat when it comes to falls from her triple axel), and a T-shirt that says "Bite Me." She considers, then takes off the shirt and replaces it with a solid black one and her Olympic jacket. 

Her coach, Axel Fallhard, would have her head if she came to the rink in that first shirt. What would her sponsors say? What would her mother say?

She makes a pit stop at Starbucks around the corner from the rink and downs a grande skinny vanilla latte and a banana, which is the only sustenance she'll have for the next six hours. Tina's ready. Today will be the day she lands her triple axel—or dies trying.

The blast of refrigerated air that hits her face as she enters the rink's double doors gives her a high, as it's done since she was two years old. Her mother always said Tina could skate before she could walk. 

"Most girls my age will be working on their tan at the beach today," she thinks, as she puts on two layers of stretchy gloves with a snap and slaps her long hair into a tight, high ponytail. Then she eases her skates on over her gigantic bunions and gnarled hammertoes and laces up.

She hops on the ice for the high-level freestyle session, where two younger up-and-coming elite skaters are already practicing their programs. Tina remembers when she was their age. 

Back when she was twelve, the only thing she had to worry about was getting her double axel, triple loop combination down pat. If only life was that simple now. Now, if she doesn't get that triple axel, all the hard work, years of sacrifice, and money spent on her will have been for nothing.

Tina channels the stress into her jumps. After doing some small twists and spins to get a little more limber, she takes her first serious shot at the triple axel. She takes a wide lap and turns with the end boards, building up speed and tension like a champagne bottle about to pop. 

She then glides at top speed for a second, takes a deep breath, and in one fluid motion she digs her skate toe into the ice to transfer momentum and hurls herself into the air like a projectile missile, arms in tight, legs crossed, all spinning at a torrid pace.

She gets through the first one-and-a-half spins, then two, two-and-a-half...and then, bam. She hits the ice on her right hip, hard. The sound of her body landing echoes through the rink, and she's sure she can feel the bruise forming instantly.

Her coach, Axel, has entered the stands and is barking orders to her before she even picks herself up from the ice—no sympathy for the hurt, apparently. "Faster!" "Tighter!" "Again!"

Tina tries the triple axel a dozen more times over the next hour. Each time she winds up, does some power three-turns, builds speed, and flies up into the air, arms tucked and legs crossed tight.

And each time she falls again. On the thirteenth try, she comes shooting out of the corner and is all set for her attempt, but a big problem arises: Little Sally Silver is skating right in the spot where Tina's about to land. If she doesn't change her course, they'll crash, and one or both of them will end up getting stitches.

Tina changes her course ever-so-slightly to the right, which means she won't land the jump as expected. She tries anyway and falls hard with a thump to her left hip—so at least she'll be equally sore in both hips, now. Tina gets back up, wincing in pain.

"No pain, no gain," she says meekly to Axel, who glowers angrily at her like a hungry Bullmastiff. She can hear his Russian accent before he even says the words. "Why did you move? You had it. I told you no move."

"I know, but I had to—"

"What? There is no 'you had to.' You don't have to do anything unless I tell you. I tell you. Not you tell you. Not she tell you. And I didn't tell you to move."

"But the girl—"

"The girl. The girl. I see no girl, only you. You are the senior skater. The girl will get out of the way, one way or another."

Little Sally Silver gives Tina a look and smiles innocently. "She did that on purpose," Tina thinks, burning up inside.

"I'll do better next time," she tells Axel, and means it.

"Okay, okay. You no tell. Show. Let's see."

By the time Tina gets off the ice, she's managed to once again not land her triple axel. However, she did land a couple of triple-triple combinations worth an equally high amount of points, and perfected a level four spin. Not bad for a day's work.

 

What sport am I training for again? (Source)

Tina grabs a salad to go from the rink café and downs it on the way to her car. She keeps her cool during the rush hour on her way to ballet class, where she spends an hour and a half working on technique with her instructor, Isadora DaDance. They spend a bunch of time working on arm movements and muscle toning. By the time she's done with her workout, Tina's arms feel like they weigh a hundred pounds each.

She can barely lift her arms over her head at her costume fitting. Fortunately, her dressmaker, Bea Blinger, is used to skaters coming to late-night fittings. She positions Tina's arms and legs as if she were a mannequin and gets the measurements she needs for the bodice on what'll be a beautiful, extravagant, and very expensive dress. 

Tina glances at the sketches, which really do look lovely. A movable piece of art: that's what she'll be transformed into. Tina would be excited if she weren't half-dead with exhaustion.

At 9:00PM, she peels her wet, cold clothes off her body and slips into a nice warm tub of Epsom salts. She struggles to stay awake long enough to dry off, crawl into bed, and get some sleep before tomorrow, when she'll try it all over again. She knows she'll land that triple axel tomorrow, for sure.