The skating world is small. It is connected by a force greater than jumps and spins, stronger than the ice beneath our blades or the wheels under our feet. We call it The Loop. And in the wake of the unimaginable loss of 28 skaters whose flight tragically collided with a military helicopter, The Loop pulled tighter than ever.

Suddenly, skaters, coaches, and parents around the world were back in The Loop, immediately impacted by events that shook us to our core. Because to be a skater is to know what it means to belong to something greater than yourself. It is to understand, without explanation, what it means to dedicate yourself to a craft that is equal parts joy and pain, triumph and heartbreak, discipline and freedom. And when one of us falls, The Loop catches us all.
As the owner of Chill, I have lived inside The Loop for much of my life. I have traveled as a competitor, as a coach, as part of the unspoken family that forms between skaters, parents, and teams. The memory of those trips is something every skater carries forever—the delirious excitement of packing up and heading to another city, another competition, another moment that mattered more to us than anything else in the world.
I think back to those plane rides, where the thrill of travel eclipsed the turbulence, where our moms—our ever-patient travel companions—rolled their eyes at our antics but never truly scolded us, because they knew, just as we did, how precious this time was. We bonded over the nerves, the exhaustion, the victories, and the losses. We got to know our coaches in a way that made them more than just instructors—they became mentors, confidants, and sometimes even co-conspirators in our travel adventures. Some flights were smooth, others terrifying, but we barely noticed because we were too wrapped up in laughter, in anticipation, in the sheer joy of being together, living inside The Loop.
The power of The Loop is that it never truly breaks. Even through the hardest training sessions, the disappointments, the injuries, the missed parties and late-night study sessions, we knew we had something rare. A built-in family that understood, without words, what it meant to wake up before dawn to chase a dream. And now, in this time of grief, we are once again wrapped up in it—held together by a love that transcends the ice, the roller rinks, the competitions, and the years that pass.
I know that I share this experience with countless others in my sport, and likely countless others in other sports. To feel such a reaction to people you didn't know as if it happened to you is a profound emotion and one I may not have ever fully experienced if I had never been invited or found my way into The Loop.

Just this weekend, skaters across the US gathered to celebrate and create a Loop to remember the 28 fallen skaters in a tribute, Legacy on Ice, which was a testament to everything I have just expressed. Skaters—young, old, from the US and around the world—came together to grieve and essentially keep these skaters and their families in our Loop, forever. While after a tragedy it may seem bittersweet, it also reminds us of the value of what we shared, and nothing is more important than a life that holds value. And that is what The Loop has to offer.
This is the quality that I had always hoped to bring to my business early on, with the goal of bringing skating to the people. That for a brief moment in time, we would invite the public into our Loop, and give them a glimpse into our world of skating. To experience the joy and freedom that we have dedicated our lives to, experience the challenges of the sport, and ultimately create the lasting memories and connections that we enjoy, as we connect our loops among friends, cities, states, and around the world.
Now, as Chill celebrates 20 years, we can take this moment to reflect via our loops and work this season to reconnect some of our loops so that we can continue to build for the future and expand on that original vision—to bring skating to the people and into our world. Into our Loop...

To those we lost, your presence in The Loop will never fade. You will be carried in the memories of every skater who has ever laced up, in every laugh shared on a team bus, in every nervous moment before taking the ice, in every triumphant leap into a coach’s arms. The Loop holds you now, as it always has, and as it always will.
For those of us who remain, we skate on. We skate for you.
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