Conquering the ice with Hector Menendez Benito

What first drew you to the sport?

This has been a thought lingering in my mind for a very long time, but there were two events that truly brought me to this sport: my friend Saul telling me about Ally Pally the moment I moved to North London, and watching Yuri on Ice.

Also, soon after starting my beginners’ classes, a friendly blade cut the fingers of my right hand, and it took me a month or two to recover. However, I decided to go back to the ice rink as soon as possible to make sure I wouldn’t absorb the fear and become scared of something so liberating. At the end of the day, as I used to say while mocking myself: fear cuts deeper than blades. 

What’s your training regimen like? Who do you train with, and how do you balance it with your work? How do your colleagues react?

My training regimen depends on my target. If I’m trying to reach a higher level, I train the corresponding figures. Some days I focus on flexibility (like when I work on the hydroblade or the spread eagle) or turns, while on many days I concentrate on spins, jumps, and the exercises my coach, Hannah Davies, recommends to me.

Hannah is my sherpa on this counterintuitive path, where she patiently teaches me about the figures, the feelings, the transitions, and the mental mindset. She has an incredible ability to empathize with the right feeling and guides you to listen to your body – to each muscle – connecting it to the technique and learning how to control your whole body to create the figures. Although my body is slow, when I finally internalize the sensations and manage to physically understand Hannah’s lessons, I can feel the right figures – and also the wrong ones.

I also sometimes train with friends I’ve made along the way who share a love for figure skating and are wonderful, interesting people. And, of course, I love going with Kazim, my fiancé, who’s still a beginner but more talented than me and learns much faster. We spend time together enjoying some humble ice dancing.

As for work/sport balance… well, my work is somewhat unbalanced – and normally more digital than physical. I always try to find spare time between these digital forests, and I love the ice rink because it feels warmer and calms me down. My brain always finds a way to carve out a moment to disconnect from my 24/7 duties and visit the rink to train. Apart from that, I tend to have my classes with Hannah early on weekends.

Regarding my colleagues, it depends. From my former job at UCL, I discovered that one of my colleagues is actually a much better skater than me, so we started practicing together occasionally. Others would like to learn, so I try to take them to the ice rinks (I always say, especially at the beginning, that this sport requires muscle memory). As for many others, I’m not sure how they react – I don’t see them very often between meetings, classes, and research.

You recently won a prize for your figure skating in a competition — congratulations! Can you tell us a little bit more about how that felt?

Even though it was a competition, it was really against myself. The medal looks nice, but honestly, the experience of pushing my limits, guided by Hannah, and completing a whole programme (more or less) is far more rewarding than any medal.

On the day, I felt scared and a bit cold – it was the typical Caesar vs. Pompey situation, when you need to cross the Rubicon and quietly sigh: alea iacta est (The dies is cast). Thanks to my coach, my fiancé, and my family and friends supporting me from afar, after a few seconds into the programme I let myself go and just enjoyed it. It wasn’t perfect – but it was fun.

Despite limited representation at elite levels for UK figure skating, fan numbers show a steady rise. How does that make you feel about the future of the sport?

It makes me feel deeply sad that people often think of this sport in such cold, utilitarian terms. For me, it would align better with the opinion of that philosopher-who-wanted-to-change-the-world – that work dignifies a person – than with our modern society, where art is measured in numbers and fans. Consumerism – an acolyte of you-know-who – makes everything fleeting and a side effect of fashion.

Figure skating has been here for centuries, and it will last long after I’m gone – unless, of course, climate change melts every ice rink first.

What would you say to any other aspiring ice skaters out there?

“Wear gloves and bend your knees — it will help you with your balance.” But in general, if you love it, you’ll find many people who look at the figures from different perspectives. The social and economic aspects of the sport can’t be ignored, as mentioned in the previous question. There are truly fascinating physics and mathematical principles embedded in the way we move, and I always like to think about Emmy Noether every time I accelerate a spin.

But the art itself — if you can connect with it — will make you feel free. And in this world, which increasingly reminds me of Goya’s Saturn, finding that feeling of freedom is more important than many other things, given what happens around us every day.

Miguel Hernández, one of my favourite poets — and a humble shepherd who mastered words, hammers, and sickles — once wrote that freedom will:

“command new arms and legs to grow

Out of the mangled flesh.

Winged relics from my body will sprout, those

I lose in every wound, like autumnless lifeblood.

For I’m like the felled tree, shooting afresh:

For I’m still alive. Aún tengo la vida.”