28
November
2006
“Don’t look at this situation and feel sorry for yourself. Take it on as a challenge, and it will prepare you for life’s other detours. Let it make you stronger not weaker.”
-incorporated advice from my coach, my mom, and my dad
When I had my surgery about 2 months ago, I didn’t know how I would deal with it. I had already retired from artistic gymnastics and moved onto trampoline gymnastics, which placed so much less strain on my body, but I never would have thought that I’d have to cut back even more. I would have to take an unknown amount of break time from doing any type of gymnastics at all once I found out I had to have surgery.
Surgery- something I never in my life thought I would need at my age. I’d never even broken a bone, and now all of a sudden I needed surgery. It was true though, I remember the day the doctor told me he had bad news after looking at the MRI of my wrist. He told me my bone was detiorating, and I needed to have it revascularized if I wanted any hope in ever gaining my range of motion back again. He also pretty much guaranteed that I’d have arthiritis in my wrist when I get older. You won’t believe how overwhelming it is to hear all of that in less than five minutes. I think I cried for two days straight in disbelief. I had just come back from nationals, and I had been so antsy to get back into the gym and start learning new skills for next season with high hopes of making it to the 2007 World Age Group Games if I tried hard enough. Well, I had to put all those sights on hold with just one doctor’s visit. The doctor couldn’t set an exact date that I’d be able to get back into my regular gymnastics routine; he did, however, say that full recovery required one year to two years, and getting back into my gym routine we would have to play by ear.
My mind squirmed with thoughts and concerns for days. I started thinking about all the weight I’d gain not doing gymnastics, and how much more stressful school would become considering I couldn’t write with my right hand- or my left. Most of all I just didn’t know what I’d do without being able to do gym. It’s what I’ve known for the past several years, and I was so taken aback upon recieving all of this news, I just didn’t know what to think of it- and the pessimistic side just seemed to stick out.
After talking with my parents and coach, I recieved many words of wisdom that I will cherish forever. Without their support I don’t know how I’d get through this- and still am going through it. With my parent’s advice, I realized that thinking negatively and worrying about my situation would only make things harder than they already were. I couldn’t afford for that to happen, so I promised myself that I would not misjudge my capabilities in school and use my wrist as an excuse to not give full effort. My mom also advised me not to look at what I don’t have, but at what I have, when I start feeling sorry for myself. I felt really pathetic about my own sympathy one day when I saw a lady at the store with no arm. I thought I had it hard, but then I realize it’s nothing compared to what some people have to live their lives through.
My coach encouraged me to not give any sympathy to the rest of my body, just because of my wrist injury. I was still capable of conditioning, and he encouraged me to keep it up. He also brought to my attention that life has many challenges ahead, and this is just the first really big one. He told me, once I conquer this, I know I’ll be strong enough for the next one.
I can’t tell you that there aren’t any more days that I don’t feel sad about it. It still creeps back into my mind once in a while, like when I watch my teammates tumble. I miss it, but I know that I will be back soon; in the meantime, i just have to keep my head up and keep conquering. :)
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16
November
2006
I often rethink my decision to retire from artistic gymnastics. It’s my passion, and I miss it. I knew that I wouldn’t be doing gymnastics my entire life, but I expected myself to stay with it through highschool and hopefully make it to college. I know that my reasons for moving on, however, could not be ignored.
Last year, I started attending one of the most rigorous gymnastics training centers in the state, in high hopes of making my college envisions come true. I never planned on switching gyms, but my “home” gym was closing down our artistic gymnastics program, so I had no choice. I knew it would be hard, but I had so much passion and fire to achieve this, I figured I could do it. Instead, the unthinkable happened. I started to DREAD going to gym. I never in my life dreaded of going to gym, and I was scared to admit to it. It was like military boot camp- or probably even worse- for five to six days out of the week, right after school. I ended school at 3:30, and gym started at 4:00 and ended at 8:00. I always had these training hours, but never to this intensity.
It started to feel like I had no life outside of gym, and I questioned my reasoning for pushing myself through these long workouts. I asked myself, what if I’m doing all of this work, and it doesn’t pay off in the end? I knew I would definitely not make it to a Division 1 school, because in order to do that, I’d have to have been a level 10 or an elite for quite some time now. I was training level 8, and I reasoned that if I stuck with it until my senior year, I could make it to level 10. It’d be a huge accomplishment, but not enough to bring me to a Division 1 school. I realized that all the schools I had been dreaming of academically, such as Stanford and UCSD, would not match the college that I would be able to attend for gymnastics, because they wre primarily Division 1 schools or schools without gym programs.
My ultimate reason for withdrawing, however, was not because I didn’t feel I could make it to college gymnastics. I just was not happy. It took a long time for me to admit to it, because I never thought that I would ever not be happy doing gymnastics, but it was true, and I couldn’t lie to myself anymore. There was no way that I could let myself continue at this gym for my entire highschool career. It just wasn’t right for me.
After leaving, I knew I couldn’t entirely shut gymnastics out of my life. I loved gymnastics; I just couldn’t handle the highly intense and competetive environment anymore. I decided to re-establish my passion by moving back to my old “home” gym and join the international trampoline team with all my old teammates. It was the best decision I could’ve made. I experienced some lifetime opportunities of traveling internationally (and nationally) for meets- an option I never would have had if I stayed in artistic gymnastics. I won’t lie, though, artistic gymnastics will always be my passion, trampoline will never replace that, but I’m much happier now just continuing to do it for fun. A few years ago, I would have never imagined me feeling this way, but sometimes things just don’t turn out the way that you plan on, and I’ve come to learn that that is OK. 
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7
November
2006
I believe that materialistic and monetary gains influence expectations. The more people gain, the more they expect. If people don’t gain as much, they lower their expectations, and if people gain too much, they tend to expect more. To illustrate an extreme example, compare the poor and the rich communities. There is a huge difference in expectations. Homeless people would be ecstatic if someone donated a dollar to them on the street, while accomplished rich people may become enraged (or at least baffled) if they don’t receive a Christmas bonus.
In many situations, people base their expectations on materialistic gains, universal scales of achievement, or objects of achievement, such as trophies. This is the wrong thing to do, because it can be detrimental to the purpose of doing something in the first place- for both people who are rewarded for their accomplishments and for people who unfortunately do not get rewarded for their hard work. People who work very hard to accomplish their goals, but never receive any recognition for it have a possibility of eventually becoming apathetic in continuing their ambitions. On the other hand, people who gain too many rewards for their achievements have the danger of losing sight of their initial reasons for their actions. I believe people should learn to ignore ornamental achievements (i.e. trophies), and just be happy when they know they’ve put in their best effort to achieve their goals.
I’ve been a gymnast for many years, and I know many people, gymnasts and parents, have a hunger for winning. For some, it was all about the “gold.” When I used to compete in artistic gymnastics meets, you would find that there were always the same girls standing on top of the award podium at the end of each competition. After a while, trophies weren’t really anything significant to the gymnasts who always won. It was kind of like just another accessory to add onto their dusty shelf at home.
The sad part is that since they had the reputation of winning, it often came true, even if there was someone more deserving of the first place spot. It didn’t happen often, but once in a while you would see a judge give a higher score to a girl who had the reputation of winning who made a mistake in her routine, than to a girl who had performed just as well a routine but given a much lower score. This can lower a gymnast’s confidence, and can eventually ruin a gymnast’s desire to keep pushing herself, if she never gets rewarded.
For some of the gymnasts who had a reputation for winning, winning became the most important part of the sport. Often this influence comes from the parents of these gymnasts, because since they maintain a high level of achievement over a while it starts becoming expected of these gymnasts. Most of the time it’s not intentional, it’s just a natural way to think when someone wins so much. Unfortunately, this can cause a gymnast to lose interest in the sport, as well, if the pressure to win distracts and overwhelms the gymnast’s passion for the sport.
I have to admit that my reasoning for retiring from artistic gymnastics was partially because I doubted that I’d be rewarded for my hard work. I’m not speaking trophy wise, but rather in a college scholarship. It wasn’t my only reason for retiring, however, because I had other substantial reasons, but it did influence my decision. I knew that the chances of getting a college scholarship in gymnastics were very slim, because there are so many talented girls competing for them, and many go unrewarded, but I knew my chances were even slimmer, because I wasn’t even a level 10 yet (I was level 8, and could’ve made 10 by my senior year). I also reasoned that a college that I could get accepted to for my gymnastics, probably will not match up to a school I could attend for my academics. So, I retired. It sounds as if I was only in for the scholarship, but trust me- that is far from true. I was very passionate about gymnastics, and I still am, but it just became too much for me to handle, for my body and my schedule. I figured why should I do this to myself if I couldn’t enjoy going to gym anymore, and I wouldn’t be performing in a team for college?
If I still had the will to continue artistic gymnastics, it would’ve been different, even knowing that I may not be rewarded with a scholarship. This is because, I feel people should do whatever makes them happy, and that includes reaching for goals even if there may not be a materialistic or monetary gain. The enjoyment of doing whatever one loves best should be the most important thing. The extra rewards (aka material and monetary gains) are what cause people to expect more or less with whatever they gain, and often trigger someone to do something or avoid going for something. People need to strive to excel in goals close to their heart, regardless of how far of a reach. Rewards are beneficial, but they shouldn’t be the deciding factor in what a person does and doesn’t do. People can have all the money in the world, but not be happy with their lives. In my opinion, happiness should be the ultimate goal and ultimate gain, not money or materials.
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