I love gymnastics.  I love to be at the gym, it is my favorite place to be.  If I feel bored, I can count on something to do and people to talk to.  If I am stressed, I don’t feel it when I’m there because I am around people that I know care about me and I am doing something that I love.  The gym is my second home and the people there are my second family.  I love each event in gymnastics: Floor, Vault, Bars, and Beam.  I have been training for twelve years and I still enjoy it.  I still look forward to it because there is always more to learn.  My favorite event is floor.  I feel a rush being out on the mat dancing to my music and excitement before each pass.  However, I really hate competing on the beam; it scares me.  I don’t like the feeling I get when I’m up there and everyone is watching me.  It is even worse at a gymnastics meet, you are terrified and everything is different.  One minute on that four-inch beam feels like hours.
     

I’m standing on the side waiting for the judge to acknowledge and salute me.  My heart races and I can feel it pounding in my chest.  My hands and feet begin to sweat.  The longer I stand there the more nervous I become.  Finally, the judge looks up from her paper and raises her hand; it’s time for me to start my routine.  I return the salute and give her a smile, then I walk up to the beam and mount.  I have one minute to complete my routine.  My body begins to shake as I stand up.  I am aware of everything that is going on around me: other girls performing their routines, spectators walking around, babies crying, and people laughing and cheering.  I can see all of the commotion out of the corners of my eyes - all of this is very distracting. 
    

As I move down the beam executing my skills, I am worried, worried that I am going to fall off.  I need to stay focused, I need to zone out all the movement and sound I am seeing and hearing.  Continuing my routine, my heart races a little faster.  I begin to prepare for my fist tumbling pass and my heart jumps.  I feel extremely wobbly and my vision starts to blur.  Thoughts are swimming in my head.  I take a deep breath and swing my arms down and throw myself back.  I look for the beam and my hands grasp it, my feet trail behind hitting the hard, rough, four-inch surface.  I pull my chest up and I look forward raising my hands above my head to finish my backhandspring.  I stuck it!  A wave of confidence washes over me and I begin to calm down.   I am now able to tune out the sounds and movements around me. 
    

I continue to dance down the beam striking a dramatic pose.  I have to remember to smile at the judges, and stay focused.  I look down at my feet.  Four inches, that’s all I have.  I have to stagger them, I can’t have them side by side, there is no room.  Even when they are offset, the sides of my feet hang off the edges of the beam.  I look back up and turn my head to the side to look at my hands.  Perfection, that’s what I want.  I have almost reached the other end of the beam, I take one more step and turn.  I have to make it back to the other end of the beam without falling.  Again I look down at my feet and put my hands up.  I ready myself to do my next tumbling pass.  The thought races through my head, “I can’t fall.”  I drop my hands and throw myself back for a second time but I don’t have my hands to save me.  I have to trust that I am square with the beam and that my feet will be there to catch me.  My feet hit the beam, and it stings.  It’s a good feeling because I know that I have landed, but the good feeling doesn’t last.
    

All of a sudden my hips turn and I’m thrown off balance.  I fall off the beam.  The feel of disappointment hurts.  I take a moment to regroup taking a deep breath in, and out.  I place my hands on the solid, cold beam.  I climb up and I am back to being all shaky, I can’t afford to fall off again.  Trembling, I continue my routine, I am back to where I first began.  I am aware of everything that is happening and I hear each little sound that is made.  Thoughts are screaming in my head.  I just want it to be over.  I desperately try to make every move, every pose I do look perfect.  I need all the points I can get.  Slowly, I dance closer to the end of the beam, my head pounding.  I stop, I now have to do my leap.  I try as gracefully as I can to take a few steps before I leap off of one foot into the air.  I swing my legs into a split and quickly switch them in the opposite direction.  One foot hits the beam while the other follows it down and steps in front.  That was a good leap, but it wasn’t the hard part.  With great effort, I jump into the air turning my wolf jump three quarters.  As my feet land, I grip the edges of the beam with my toes.  My chest drops forward.  “This isn’t good,” I think to myself.  I hold on as tight as I can with my toes so I don’t fall off.  I squeeze my abbs, anything I can do to stay on.  It doesn’t work and my heart jumps in my chest.  Why?  Why couldn’t I have just stayed on the beam?  My feet hit the mat and my heart now feels like it has stopped.  I want to cry, this can’t be happening, but it is. 
    

I look over at my coach and teammates.  They all yell shouts of encouragement telling me it’s ok.  I look back at the beam, my head is throbbing and my hands are trembling.  I place my hands back on the beam and hoist myself up.  I need to continue my routine, but how?  I am shaking like crazy, how can I possibly finish my routine like this?  I raise my hand above my head holding my chin up.  I can’t show them that I am disappointed, so I try as hard as I can to smile.  I am almost to the end of the beam, I just have a few more dance moves and my dismount.  I lunge over to one side then swing my leg over so it’s behind me.  Both of my knees touch the beam.  I bend one leg up and tilt my head back reaching with one hand for my foot.  I am so wobbly that I have a hard time staying balanced.  “Don’t fall! don’t fall!” is the only thing I can think of.  I look towards the end of the beam in front of me and step up.  All that’s left is my dismount, but it’s difficult, and I have one more chance to fall.  Again there are negative thoughts jumping in my head and my adrenalin is high.
     

I am facing the end of the beam, but not the end I am going to dismount at, I have to go backwards to reach the end I want.  I am scared.  “What if I just don’t do it?  What if I just quit now?”  I can’t, it’s almost over and I need these points.  My head is aching and my heart is beating extremely fast, time is running out and I need to do something, I can’t just stand there.  I swing my hands back and launch into the air reaching with my hands for the beam behind me.  My hands hit with great force, but quickly leave again as I push off.  Both feet hit the beam at the same time.  “How far are my feet to the end of the beam?”  I wonder.  They can’t be too close or I could slip, and they can’t be too far because then I could hit my head on the end of the beam.  I get it just right and I push myself backwards into the air and tuck my body.  My feet hit the mat and they stay there.  A perfect landing.  It won’t make up for the whole point I lost with my two falls but at least they are points I was able to save by not moving.  I turn, raise my arms and salute the judges with a smile. 
    

One minute that’s all it was, but I am so thankful that my routine is over.  I am still very disappointed, but when I walk over to my teammates they congratulate me with hugs and high-fives.  I sit down and watch the judge as she writes on her paper.  I hope that everything being written is good.  I watch impatiently as the judge continues to write.  Finally, she leans over and tells the girl next to her what she needs to flash.  I am waiting anxiously as the girl turns the score cards slowly around for everyone to see.  I crane my neck.  Finally, I can see it and what I read kind of disheartens me.  I only got a 7.8.  I could have scored a whole point higher if I just would have stayed on the beam.  I begin to think about the next meet.  If I want a better score, I’ll have to practice more.
     

I love gymnastics.  Next week I can go back to the gym were all the pressure and stress will be gone and I can relax and have some fun.  It’s back to stretching, training, drilling, and conditioning until the next competition where I can hopefully achieve a better score.  All this practice, all year round, for only one minute on a four-inch beam.