The end of my gymnastics career came too soon. My wrists constantly pounding against what felt like concrete floor. The more and more work I had put into being a gymnast the harder it became. My wrists fighting the urge to snap as I practiced my routine over and over again. Finally the day came, my wrists' last fight against the floor, no more flipping and weight bearing pressure put on them. Realization had struck that I couldn't handle gymnastics anymore, my wrists were hanging on by a thread and I couldn't afford to cut it. Devastation began to set in, all the time, sweat, and tears that came with this sport had now been a waste. My heart had been ripped out and I was lost.
As the clock ticked away and x's drawn on the calendar, I was told that stopping was for the good, I just needed someone to flick on the light showing me that I would be okay without it. The day came; the light that turned on was so bright it was like the sun was right in front of my eyes. Kristina, my greatest friend in the entire world, had lit up my world as I walked up to her dusty, hay filled barn. My heart began racing so fast it felt like it would explode out of my body at any moment. A smile bigger than Jupiter had stretched across my face as I walked up to the shiniest thoroughbred I had ever seen. Measuring at eighteen hands, he was the friendliest giant, almost as if he was a teddy bear. We instantly connected, and to this day he is my best friend. My best friend is known as Max, but while competing he is known as To-The-Front. I put all my trust in him every time I strap my helmet on and jump onto him. The galloping around the ring is lightning fast, and as we sour through the air every care about the world is put aside. I now had found my new passion. All my tears, sweat, and time were now being put into being the best. I had finally found my new love.