For what felt like months, I had been desperately trying to convince my body NOT to stop half-way through my round-off and back handspring, leaving myself stranded in mid-tumble run, lacking the proper momentum to finish. Each attempt I made, however, at a graceful completion of a proper tumbling pass seemed doomed for the same fate.

There were only two girls left in front of me now as I spotted my dad, stationed in the corner, video camera in hand. My heart sank as I imagined failing miserably, on tape, for all to see. He saw me, smiled an overly proud grin, and gave me a ‘thumbs up’.

Nola, the older girl in front of me, expertly stepped off the corner line and launched into a perfectly-orchestrated round-off whip-back as I silently cursed her. I had been secretly hoping she’d land on her face and need urgent medical attention, surely putting a stop to this ridiculous display of almost-public humiliation.

I breathed deeply, wiping my now sweaty palms on my hips, and tried to focus. Just as my right foot stepped onto the mat, I heard a loud and enthusiastic “You can do it!” coming from the corner of the gym. A strange burst of determination swept through me and I sped forward with total control.

Just. Don’t. Stop.

The words played over and over in my mind as my legs whipped over me in a forceful round-off. My feet touched the spring floor only for a moment as I fluidly and instinctively threw my hands backwards into the handspring. My feet hit the floor with a padded thud, and before I knew it, I had done it.

Manic with excitement, I ran over to my father, who was beaming with pride.

“Daddy, I actually did it!” I yelled, still in shock that I had managed to pull it off.

“Of course you did,” he said assuredly. “You can do anything!”

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