A couple of weeks ago I had the rare opportunity to work at the ISU World Championships in Boston, where I helped out in the Mix Zone—the charged space where skaters face the media moments after stepping off the ice. It was a backstage pass into the pressure-cooker world of elite figure skating. As surreal as that was, it was made even more personal by watching several rink mates from the Skating Club of Boston take the ice, all while preparing for my own competition, Adult Nationals, just days after.

What do the skaters go through behind the scenes?

Most fans see the glamour—the dazzling costumes, flawless programs, and triumphant smiles on the podium. But backstage tells a different story. From the moment skaters take the ice for their assigned practice sessions, the media is there—watching, documenting, and asking for interviews. It’s hard to say whether this is a good or bad thing for the athletes. From a fan and sport-promotion standpoint, it’s fantastic. You get a peek behind the curtain and a chance to connect more deeply with the athletes.

But from a skater’s perspective? An interview with a major outlet like NBC could mean thousands of new viewers, Instagram followers, and fans. On the flip side, it turns an ordinary practice into a pressure filled environment. It’s one thing to have former skaters providing commentary on practices—having been through it, they understand what a typical session looks like (spoiler: it’s rarely perfect) and what the goals are for practice versus competition.

The coverage continues in the competition venue, too—sometimes catching off-ice warmups or showing a skater lacing up in a narrow tunnel, trying to block out distractions and absorb final instructions from coaches who know exactly what’s at stake. You could feel the pressure rise as they approached the rink—past the NBC broadcast platform and into a sea of blinding lights and a crowd of over 17,000 people.

It was astonishing to witness the intensity of these moments. There’s no way to simulate that kind of pressure. Even for those used to the world stage, the nerves are real, the focus total. Olympic spots were on the line, and stories were being written in real time.

Creating Engagement

I was impressed with the effort that went into engaging both existing and new skating fans. Figure skating is such a niche sport, and few people know much about it unless they—or a family member—are involved. It was great to see ISU President Jae Youl Kim take the time to give a backstage tour to a group of journalists who were new to covering the sport.

While I didn’t need the additional fanfare within the venue myself, I do think having TD Garden hosts—former skaters Ashley Wagner (World Silver Medalist) and Ben Agosto (Olympic Silver Medalist in Ice Dance)—in the Kiss & Cry asking skaters questions and keeping the crowd engaged with commentary and trivia during ice makes was a smart move. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, and it’s a tactic other sports, like football, have used very successfully.

Another fun initiative was asking each skater to share a message for the audience, which was shown on the Jumbotron as they took the ice. This, along with displaying their Instagram handles, created a great opportunity for fans to connect with the athletes on a more personal level.

In the Mix Zone: The Emotional Fallout

Working in the Mix Zone meant witnessing some of the most emotionally raw moments of the championship. Skaters emerged still catching their breath, faces flushed with adrenaline, joy—or heartbreak.

Most journalists navigated those moments with care, asking questions gently, reading the room. I walked away with a deeper appreciation for the emotional toll these athletes carry. Not just in performing under pressure, but in having to explain what just happened, moments after it happened, often before they’ve even spoken to their coaches.

And support? It’s not always equal. Larger federations show up with media managers, translators, and full entourages. Skaters from smaller countries often had just their coach. No buffer. No translator. Just them, facing the press alone. It left me wondering—what support systems are in place for those athletes walking this tightrope without a net?

Cheering on Local Favorites

I felt truly lucky to see familiar faces—newly crowned U.S. Pairs Champions Alisa Efimova and Misha Mitrofanov from my home rink—compete. I’ve watched them over the last two years form a true partnership on the ice. They both have an impressive work ethic I find inspiring, and from observing their training day after day, I’ve seen both the good days and the rough ones. Sharing a training facility with them makes it easy to become invested in their progress, and I was absolutely thrilled to see all their hard work rewarded at Nationals with a gold-medal performance and a spot on the World Team.

Alisa and Misha skated another personal best at Worlds in their long program, securing an Olympic spot for Team USA and earning a well-deserved standing ovation. They dedicated that performance to the victims of the tragic crash of Flight 5342 in DC—a deeply personal and poignant moment. For them, it was a milestone. For me, it was a reminder of just how steep the mountain is—but also how familiar the climb feels, no matter your altitude.

The Gala: A Celebration of Spirit

The exhibition gala was pure fun. Skaters let their personalities shine—no pressure, just performance. It was my first time seeing a full gala live, and it felt like a reward not just for the medalists, but for the entire skating community. Given the heaviness the community has carried since January 29th, this show offered some truly lighter moments—programs filled with creativity, comedy, and heartfelt dedications. From world medalists to up-and-coming development camp skaters, the gala captured the heart of why we skate.

Worlds vs. Adult Nationals: The Same, but Different

There’s no comparison in scale, of course. Worlds is a machine—broadcast crews, international press, security details, choreographed arena transitions. But the heart of it? That part is the same. At both levels, skaters worry if they’re ready. We obsess over our landings, wonder if our music cuts are effective, hope we don’t blank on footwork. We all crave that one clean skate that makes the months of training worth it.

Being that close to greatness reminded me why I skate: for the discipline, the joy, the chance to be part of a sport that asks everything of you—and somehow gives even more back. Being part of Worlds didn’t just show me what elite skaters endure—it redefined my connection to skating. We share the same ice. The same aches and bruises. The same drive to keep improving. So when I stepped onto the ice at Adult Nationals, I wasn’t thinking about medals. I was thinking about how lucky I am to skate at all. Because from World Champions to adult skaters lacing up under dim rink lights on a Tuesday night, we’re all doing it for the same reason: skating is part of who we are.

Do you have a favorite memory from Worlds?  Share it in the comments below!