"You're Too Tall"

"Mommy, Wendy acts like I am too tall to do gymnastics. She always talks about how the short girls are so great at it."

My mom looked incredulous. Wendy was my not-so-nice gymnastics coach. She rarely gave compliments, often gave corrections, and always showed favoritism. As the tallest girl in Level 3, I could feel it. She did not like me. She quickly moved girls up that did not work as hard as I did just because they were shorter. I worked the hardest, complained the least, and gained the least recognition.

With my distaste for my current gym growing, my mom set out to find a new one. A new gym named Acrofit was being built not too far from my house in Kemah, Texas. Soon, I was enrolled and beginning classes there.

I started at Acrofit in my current Level, Level 3. Within weeks they had moved me to Level 4--the level in gymnastics where you started to compete. I became ecstatic. Going from a gym that ignored me to one that embraced me felt good.

My first gymnastics meet quickly approached. It was called the Oni's Invitational. Just thinking about it made me want to vomit. Being in public on show made me nervous. Coach Tracy and Coach Perla were encouraging as ever. They believed in me.

The day came and I put on my competition leotard. It was a dark blue and green tie-dye design. It fit perfectly. I sat with nervousness before each event. Floor was my worst that day. I shook during every pivot and flip with nervousness. Finally, it was over, but the exhilaration still hung in the air. I felt like I conquered something. It was as if the world stopped and there was just me and each event I tackled. On bars I only saw the world spinning with each turn. On the beam, I only saw my toes grip the long, leather-bound elevated piece of wood. On the floor, the world spun by with each subsequent flip. In short, I felt thrilled, breathless--hooked.

I continued in gymnastics until I reached Level 6. It started to take over my life with 12 hours of practice a week. I knew it was time to move on. I still miss it and never found a sport good enough to replace it. I dabbled here and there in sports such as track and tennis, but it never felt the same. Sometimes I still dream about my old routines and the same feeling returns. I have never felt as exhilarated as I did during a gymnastics routine. That part of me has never been reawakened. It's a part that belongs in the past--something that only lives in memories.