The chalk flew from the bar as raw hands slid around a bar of wood carrying a girl’s body. The hands released the wood, white powder diffused into the air, and the girl’s legs lifted above her head as her body flipped backward. She stuck the landing with grace and elegance as her feet made an implant in the squishy blue mat. She glanced at her red hands and smiled. 
“A rip is a gymnast’s pride and joy,” said a woman standing next to the girl. The girl clapped her hands together and wiped them on her powder filled leotard.
“My giants have definitely improved, but that stupid release move haunts me in my nightmares,” the girl said looking to her coach. The coach smiled and pointed towards the bar, shaking her head. The girl began her routine again, and without hesitation, completed a perfect turn.
“Why can’t you compete like that?” the woman said looking at the girl. “You are still young, but the Olympics are only a few more years away and your confidence level at meets is decreasing as the Olympics get closer. Norah, anybody can see you're a fantastic gymnast but gymnastics is more than just a routine and some flips. Gymnastics is about having confidence, having fun, and enjoying the sport as a whole. This means treating gymnastics like a baby. You have to treat it with love, with diligence, and attention. Just like a baby, you can laugh with it, you can get angry at it, you can get frustrated with it, you can want to just give up and go to sleep, but the most important thing to remember about gymnastics is why you started. When your mom enrolled you at two years old, the goal was not for you to go to the Olympics, the goal was for you to have fun with the sport. Having fun is what made you fall in love.” 
“I know. Gymnastics is like a drug. It is killing my body, but I can’t seem to stop myself from doing it. I’m addicted,” Norah glanced down at her bloody hands, crooked toes, bruised ankles, and the knee braces that covered her swollen joints. The smell of chalk and sweat filled her nose, but thoughts of happiness swept into her head. Norah looked at her coach, smiled, and jumped onto the bar, swinging back and forth.
“The reason I want to go to the Olympics is because I love gymnastics, and it has done so much for me. I feel as though I owe it that much. I owe it my name, and my life. I want that. I want the Olympics. I want the Olympics to be my reward”. With that motivation, Norah practiced for the next three hours on bars, before moving on to floor.
A few days had passed and Norah was eager to get back to the gym. Walking into the gym for Norah was like a little girl who had always dreamt of being a mermaid, being able to swim for the first time. The same curiosity, fascination, and excitement filled her eyes. Her brown, chocolate hair bounced in her high, messy ponytail. Her mouth stretched from cheek to cheek as her pale face gleamed of happiness. For Norah, gymnastics was more than an after-school activity. Gymnastics completed her life. Gymnastics was her life.
Norah walked into the gym, greeted by the younger kids. They all ran up to her, screaming and praising her name. Norah was a star at the gym. She had been the only person that has gotten to be where she was and at such a young age. Norah’s glared at her picture on the wall. She was twelve. Yet, she was competing at an elite level, with Olympics dreams. When she trained, she trained like every competition was the next day. All the younger girls were fascinated by her and everything she could do with her body. Her routines were a spectacle, and when she performed, she performed like the whole gym was watching.
Norah warmed up her muscles by running around the gym and stretching. She was ready to begin practice.
“Let’s go to beam,” her coach said. Norah walked over to the brown, skinny logs, climbed on top of them, and began the drills her coach was telling her to do. After Norah was drenched in her own sweat, she looked to her coach. The woman felt as though Norah had completed enough conditioning, and she told her to start practicing her beam routine. The four-inch wide beam was not a friend of Norah’s. She always held the attitude of, if I fall on floor it will catch me, but if I fall on beam it won’t catch me. It will just hit me on the way down.
Norah placed her hands on top of the beam, and she lifted her legs into a straddled above her head. Then, Norah lowered them onto the beam. This was her mount. Once Norah was fully standing on the beam, she began her next skill. She flipped backward without touching the beam and landed one foot in front of the other. Her hands were glued to her ears, and as she finished the skill they loosened into a V position. Her fingers spread out and her thumbs tucked under.
“Good, but point your toes,” the woman told Norah. Norah nodded and continued. Next, Norah jumped into the air splitting her legs out as she rose. Right after she landed the skill, she did the same thing again, only she kicked with a different leg in front, gained momentum and then switched legs in the air. This was the part everything began to happen in slow motion. On the way down, Norah’s legs did not completely close, and her leap continued onto the beam. Gravity pulled her towards the beam, which twisted her ankle as it hit. Norah’s body followed the motion of her ankle, twisting her around the beam, making her fling to her back, and then onto the floor. Norah grabbed her ankle in pain. A gymnast’s nightmare brought to life. She glared at her coach running towards her, and then to her blue ankle. She burst into a waterfall of tears. She cried not because of the pain, but because her broken ankle meant no gymnastics.
Norah was put in a cast that night and ordered by the doctor to not start training again until after it was off. This meant that Norah had to face her decision about gymnastics and her Olympic dreams. She still visited the gym every day, only she wasn’t practicing. She worked with her coach and helped the younger girls with their training. This made Norah realize her love for not only flipping but the sport itself. She loved gymnastics, even if she couldn’t be competing it.
When she got her cast off, it started the journey of a long road to recovery. Norah practiced gymnastics with a new attitude. She didn’t practice because she wanted to go to the Olympics. She practiced because she loved the sport, and she was having fun.
“You know. You might not think so, but I think you have become a much better gymnast since you have broken your ankle. You are happier, more confident, and much more relaxed, ” Norah’s coach said.
“Yea, because now I practice like a real gymnast. Sometimes the best gymnasts never go to the Olympics, but those are sometimes some of the strongest gymnasts. They not only know their flaws and limitations, but they accept them and train anyway. Accepting my flaws of my ankle have made me one of those gymnast and that has made me a stronger person. Plus, who knows, I’m still young. I can maybe still make it to the Olympics someday, but my point is, I don’t need to make it to the Olympics to show me how much I love the sport. My reward from gymnastics is not the Olympics. My reward from gymnastics is my happiness.”