Thump thump. I have been repeating back handsprings nonstop for thirty minutes, putting continuous pressure on my wrists, yet my body felt that I could recap these efforts for hours on end. The feeling of delight was monumental and dulled the splintering impulses my nerves were sending; after months of practice to obtain my back handspring, the day was finally here and I was overcome with ecstasy. I threw myself backwards to make myself comprehend that this was not a dream, much like pinching oneself. Finally I could run out with my fellow cheerleaders at the beginning of the football games and do my running tumbling with them instead of holding signs on the sidelines due to my previous mental block. The following day was the football game that I would reveal my au courant skills to the crowd and my coach.
“Okay girls let’s run through the opening formation, please if you feel uncomfortable doing your pass let me know, I do not want anyone getting hurt before our competition next week.” Coach Phelps yelled, trying to deafen out the cheerleaders that surrounded her. After I updated her on my capabilities and desire to tumble, she designated a position for me within the lines and watched my final pass to reiterate that it was safe. That first game I tumble out will infinitely be stored in my memory.
After multiple football games, basketball games, soccer matches, and competitions my body felt languish that my tumbling subsequently put on me. Now I feel tired, constantly sore, and have injured my ligaments numerous times. Looking back, with current knowledge of the consequences, I feel I would probably tell my naïve self not to continue my practice in gymnastics. Tumbling is undeniably at fault for my aches and pains, that if my life were void of these strains I would still feel young and energetic.
Much like a boat, I was tied up at dock, never feeling the pressures of the open sea and protected...