The Life of a Gymnast

Chapter 4: More News

I see my mom’s car pull up in front of the gym.  I throw open the backseat door and throw my bag in before seating myself in the front seat.

“How was practice hon?”.  Meet my mother.  Mrs. Tailor.  Her honey blonde hair, green eyes, and perfect body are a lot to look up to.  Not to  mention the fact that she was a gymnast in her own time, so she knew what was progress and what wasn’t.  

“Good”, I reply.

“What’s wrong?  Did something happen?”, she says worriedly.  She turns the turn signal on, and it emits a stream of ticks.  Comforting, but annoying, which is comparable to my mom.

“I’m fine, mom”, I laugh.  “I’m just exhausted”.

“Alright, whatever you say”, she says with a sideways glance at me.  “Oh!  Your dinner is in the lunchbox.  I think it feel under the seat”. 

I reach down and grope around under the tan leather seat before my hands hit on fabric.  I pull it forward and unzip it.  

“Thanks mom”, I say before digging in.  

She made scrambled eggs and peanut butter toast with some strawberries on the side.  This is one of my favorite breakfasts, especially before school.

~

As I crunched down on a crisp red apple, I opened my laptop. I typed the link to usagymnastics.org. I needed to see the requirements for Level 9. On vault, you needed a Yurchenko or a Tsuk, which I have. On bars; an overshoot, pirouette, and double back.  Again, I pretty much have that.  Except for the faulty dismount, I have bars down.  For beam, you need a handspring handspring series, a layout full dismount, a switch leap, and a turning jump. Floor required a double flipping pass, a double twisting, and a full twisting.  Floor would probably the most difficult event for me to meet all the requirements for.  It’s definitely not my strong suit. 
In the quiet of my room, I pulled my books out if my back pack. The curtains were wide open, illuminating my room in the orange-pinky color of the sunset. My bed was right across from my window, and I was laying over the plush white comforters. I piled my books up next to me and pulled my lap desk out from under my bed, enjoying the serenity of the moment. I checked my agenda for what homework I had. I finished my math in school, so I really only had to work on english. We were learning about verbs and adjectives.  After completing my assignments, I pulled out my laptop again.  I googled level 9 competitions to see what I was up against.  For an hour or so, I watched various gymnasts on bars, beam, and floor.  I hate watching vault. 

“Mia!  It’s time for dinner!”, my mom calls.

 I snapped my computer shut and ran downstairs.  My mom had the table set for three, and my little brother was sitting across from me.

His hair was all messed up and his jeans were covered in mud.  I roll my eyes and slide into my seat as my mom serves dinner.

~

The next day, at the gym, I worked on more handspring layouts.  They’re looking a lot better than the day before.  On bars, my overshoots were looking pretty good.  And on floor, I made some good 1 1/2’s into a punch front. Vault, however, was only alright.
"You need to push off the horse harder! You aren't getting the height!" .  Thanks for the update, Lizzy.
"Go back and do it again!”.  Another brilliant statement from Lizzy.  Apparently, I was so good she couldn’t even give me a chance to get off my face.  I ran back to my starting place, 74. I breathed in deep, then took of running. I sprinted as hard as I could, I took a bug hurdle, and punched the board right on the soft spot.  I pulled my legs over my head as soon as I blocked, and stuck the landing.

Yes, I think to myself.  Lizzy rolls her eyes and walks away to talk to Kristy, which was confirmation that I did it right. 

~

"Hey do you want a ride?". Emma's clear voice rang out from behind me. I turned around, looking up from my phone.  I had been waiting for my mom for 20 minutes now, and I was more than willing to take her offer up.

“Yes please!  Wait why were you here so late?”
"I had to talk to talk to Lizzy and Mike". For 20 minutes?
"What about?". I was suspicious now.
“Well, I’m not supposed to tell”, she says, with a sly grin on her face.

“Oh come on, Emma!”.  I try to coach the answer out of her.
“Well,” she says.  “Maybe I’ll catch you up in the car”.