Mirai Nagasu

ST. PAUL, Minn. -- Someone told Mirai Nagasu that she was nearly 13 points ahead of the defending champion, Kimmie Meissner, after Nagasu finished Thursday's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships. "Wow," Nagasu said, "that's exciting." That was how 1992 Olympic champion Kristi Yamaguchi felt about Nagasu after watching the Arcadia High freshman give one of the most brilliant senior-level debut per- formances at the national meet. "Wow, wow, wow," Yamaguchi said.

ST. PAUL, Minn. -- The applause from a standing ovation barely had stopped echoing in Mirai Nagasu's ears when it was replaced by the sound of her cellphone ringing. The caller was a friend at Arcadia High, where Nagasu is a freshman. Once Nagasu thanked the caller for congratulating her on winning Thursday's short program at the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, the two began talking about a boy at whom Nagasu was angry.

ST. PAUL, Minn. -- Mirai Nagasu had a big lead going into the free skate at the U.S. Championships on Saturday night but knew she would have to skate well to win. Nagasu was the last one to take the ice, and she had heard the crowd going wild for the two skaters before her. "I was really nervous," Nagasu said. It showed when Nagasu fell on her opening jump, her simplest jump, a double axel.

It's barely 7 a.m., but the Pickwick Ice Center in Burbank is a maze of skaters, some so newly awake that pillowcase creases are still imprinted on their faces. One girl in a pink-striped shirt and ponytail stands out. She soars toward the ceiling when she jumps and turns into a colorful blur when she spins, swift and sure and confident. Just like a champion. Which she is.

The ice is so big and figure skater Mirai Nagasu always looks so small, even after a growth spurt that allows the Arcadia resident to proudly proclaim she's nearly 5 feet 3. She may seem a solitary figure when she takes to the ice at Quicken Loans Arena today for the first phase of the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, but she will not be out there alone as she pursues her second consecutive national title.

Rachael Flatt is a young woman in a hurry. Flatt finishes her second on-ice training session of the day at the Ice Hall of the Colorado Springs World Arena -- half her usual number of sessions because she had to take a standardized statewide achievement test at school. In less than five minutes, she takes off her skates, pulls on a sweater and drags a suitcase, briefcase, oversized quilted bag and a purse outside the building, where she waits for her mother to drive her to a two-hour physical training session at the Olympic Training Center.