What Gymnnastics has Taught Me

Not entirely sure where this post is going, so hold on tight!

Let’s start with a little bit of background explanation for you: Gymnastics has always been a huge part of my life.

I started lessons when I was 6, made competitive team at age 8, went to Woodward gymnastics camp every summer, traveled the country to compete in national competitions, was captain of my high school varsity team, taught/coached for over 10 years, managed reception at a gym for two years…

I’m not saying I was good, but I do have the knowledge and experience to know what I’m talking about. I might need help standing now, but I promise this is a much more credible source than most of the Facebook comments I’m sure you recently read on this subject.

Anyway…

With the Olympics this week, I already planned on writing about gymnastics. You see, my toddler had some perfect timing and started a “Teeny Tumblers” class a few weeks ago at the same gym I used to spend every day in. It’s an excellent source of play and socialization for him, anddd a humbling experience for me.

Having a disease that’s taking away your muscle control sucks all the time. But being in a wheelchair in the place where you used to show off and be judged on that muscle control makes having Ataxia suck even more. 

But it’s not about me! Ah, welcome to the world of parenting.

If you ever need something that’ll constantly push you out of your comfort zone, I recommend having kids.

Except that part kind of sucked too. I couldn’t help my kiddo swing on the bars, or walk with him down a balance beam, or climb into the foam pit so he could jump to me…

Luckily, my friends from our Parenting with Ataxia Facebook group helped me out without even realizing it.

(Here’s my quick line of advice that encourages you to find an experienced support group!!)

Weren’t there a ton of adults there who helped Leo do all of those things? Isn’t it perfectly normal for him for his mom to be in a wheelchair? Did your disability really affect anyone else? Wasn’t it still a great experience for him?

A common concern from many potential parents with Ataxia is not being able to meet the physical requirements of having a kid. I get it. But I’m here to tell you that should not be a determining factor.

Of course you’re going to experience it quite a few times. And it’s going to be pretty heavy on your heart. And there is nothing anyone can say or do to make it better.

Except for your kid. They make it better.

Believe it or not, they’re going to have fun even if they’re not playing with you. They really don’t care as much as you do about not being like the other parents. You’re acting normal.

I’ve learned that recognizing different perspectives is a very important part of life.


Ok so now onto Simone! Obviously, I can’t publish a post on gymnastics and NOT address this.

@simonebiles

I’m not going to lie, when I woke up to the news of her “opting to leave the team competition after a bad vault score, citing her mental health as the reason” I was confused and upset and kind of mad and frustrated… How could she be so selfish!? She took that spot away from someone who could have handled that pressure! There’s no way the US team even had a chance to medal without her. Ugh.

And that is why you should always take a minute to THINK before you talk. Or write.

After watching the competition, reading a billion other articles, and doing some unwanted reflecting, my opinion changed 100%.

Basically, I’ll defend this girl til I die.

Now I already said that a large part of gymnastics is physical muscle control. But the mental portion might be even larger.

Don’t believe me?

During a gymnastics practice my senior year of high school, I was trying out a tumbling pass on the floor exercise, when I landed on my neck, separating two of my vertebrae, putting me in a neck brace for my last home meet ever. I eventually had surgery that replaced the damaged disk with a piece of bone from my hip. I have a scar that looks like a hickey.

My injury wasn’t because of anything physical. I was in good shape, no symptoms, no injuries, perfectly healthy. I had done that skill plenty of times before. But I very clearly remember – as ironic as it sounds – being midair and my mind going blank. I very easily could have been paralyzed doing a move Simone could probably do in her sleep because of a split-second lapse of concentration.

Pretty sure I had far less going through my brain than a world-renowned Olympian.

Do you see how real of a possibility death was for her in that moment!?

Here’s my take on things: She tried to “push through it” and participate in the first round. But when she had a “weird, unusual, out of character” vault performance (I think those are far more accurate words than “bad”) she realized the mental pressure she was enduring was affecting her physical performance. By staying in the competition, she was actually harming her teammate’s chance of medaling. And risking her life.

Sure, part of being an athlete is dealing with the mental pressure that comes with it. But how many times did you hear Simone’s name mentioned in the past YEAR? How many self-created, newly-invented skills was she doing in that one competition? Did you hear about how difficulty values were redesigned specifically because of her? Remember her being sexually assaulted? And then opening up about it to the public?

When people can’t SEE what’s wrong with you, they tend to think you’re exaggerating or making it up. I get it. But I think it’s fair to say she had way too much going on in her brain to risk participation. I think she deserves to be admired for doing the right thing.

…I’ve learned that recognizing perspectives is a very important part of life.

2 thoughts on “What Gymnnastics has Taught Me

  1. So very well said! Thanks for sharing your story also😊 your son is a doll and seems so happy…good job mom❤️

  2. My initial Neroulogist said to me”if you had the skills of a gymnast, then detecting this disease would have been much harder.” Thank you for telling your story and releasing me from thinking I should have been ‘better’ than I was.

Comments are closed.