Sitting on the cold floor of the large arena, I messed with the stray pieces of hair that were beginning to fall out of my tightly hair-sprayed bun. My eyes were struggling to stay open after having to wake up at three in the morning just to sit in the car for five hours with my father. I hated that all my competitions seemed to be a hundred miles away, which meant that my mom could never take a day off work to attend. I felt my coach’s hand nudge my shoulder to signal that I was up next. As I slowly walked towards the runway, I could feel the palms of my hands beginning to sweat and my heart beating as if it was inside my head. I stepped onto the long, blue runway and attempted to perfectly align the tips of my toes with the large 24’ labeled on the floor. I took a deep breath and stared at the large vaulting table that sat in front of me. I was again reminded of the fact that I was about to run full speed towards a stationary object in hopes of flipping through the air and landing on my feet. Great. As I began to sprint towards the vaulting table, my coach’s advice and instructions raced through my mind: pointed toes, ribs in, and shoulders extended. I took a long step and hurdled both of my feet onto the springboard. Over the loud sound of the springs banging the floor, I felt a pop. I rebounded my hands off the table, shot my body into a twist in the air, and came down with my feet searching for the floor. My momentum threw my body forward until I hit the mat landing on my hands and knees.

Everything around me was a blur. As I attempted to stand up, I felt a pain shoot up my leg and instantly collapsed back onto the mat. My ankle. As I laid on the floor, I watched through the tears welling up in my eyes as people began to sprint towards me. A million thoughts raced through my mind. What was my coach going to tell me? Even worse, what would my dad have to say? He worked so hard to allow me to continue with the sport, especially when we did not have the money for me to compete. He also knew that all I wanted was for my mom to be at my side like all my teammates' moms were. He made sure to attend every one of my practices and competitions so that I would never feel alone. At that moment I felt powerless, simply staring up at the group of people that now surrounded me. My dad bent down, scooped me up in his arms, and carried back towards where I was standing just minutes ago, confident and ready to take home the gold.

Luckily, I was told that my injury was not severe enough to end my gymnastics career and would only set me back a couple months in my training. This experience helped me to realize how much my dad has supported me throughout my journey with gymnastics. I also gained a deeper love for my sport because I did not realize how great of a role gymnastics had played in my life until I almost lost it.