Olympic Memories --- Part 2

As I said here, I loved the Olympics as a child. I idolized Olga Korbut and Nadia Comaneci. My sister did too. Our best friends did too. The world seemed to crave those wonderful days of Olympic competition in gymnastics. The Olympics came every 4 years and that simply was not often enough to satisfy us!

My parents caught the fever and signed my sister and I up for gymnastics (after our utter failure in ballet I might add). We each got our leotards and tights. Oh wait – we don’t need tights? Okay… forget the tights. Our friends stayed in dance but envied my sister and I as we joined the ranks of girls with dreams of being Olympic gymnasts.

Mom drove us to the local YMCA for our twice weekly gymnastic training. We were indoctrinated into the world of tumbling, vault, beam, trampoline, and bars. We learned that girls don’t do rings, so we wanted them removed from our backyard swing set / jungle gym (we gave up on that request since it was still fun to flip on rings). My sister and I practiced between our lessons. We did our floor exercise tumbling in the backyard. At home we wore our leotards, but we added our own special touch…. We created our own numbers and pinned them to our backs for judging. We practiced sticking our landings and ending our routines with arms held high. We practiced the stiff gymnast walk for when we entered and left our backyard arena. We were true gymnasts and our parents judged us from their lawn chairs. I think the scores just might have gotten better if the judges were enjoying a beer or glass of wine….

Being a one eyed gymnast with an awesome eye patch was a bit of a challenge. It takes a special talent to do a cartwheel on a beam that is a million feet off the floor and just 4 inches wide. The first few times it was worse than a train wreck, but over time I improved. I gained more than a few bruises for my efforts, but luckily there were no broken bones. I remember the bruises on my hips from slamming into the lower uneven parallel bar (they were closer together back then and it was a required move to slam your midsection and pike your body around the bar).

What I remember most about my gymnastic experiences is how much everything seemed to hurt. I’m not talking discomfort, I’m talking HURT. I learned many lessons...

• If you jump on the trampoline wrong you will scrape yourself on the metal springs.
• If you jump on the trampoline wrong you will fly off the side and get smooshed like a bug on the mat next to the trampoline. Other gymnasts will laugh at you as well.
• If you are scolded enough for early vault take offs (that smash you into the vault vs. over it) you may just over correct and run INTO the vault. This will hurt. Again, other gymnasts will laugh at you. Coaches will shake their heads and try to hide their laughter as they tell you to focus.
• If you are not limber, you will tumble out of bounds on your floor exercise an others will (again) laugh at you.
• If you don’t chalk your hands enough for bars you will tear them. Tearing your skin is bad because it leaves blood on the bars and makes other gymnasts mad.
• If you complain about running, they will make you run more (I think this applies to all sports).
• If you smash your face on the beam your nose will bleed but your glasses won’t break (most of the time).
• No matter how many times you smash your face and glasses, your mom will have them repaired vs. replaced. Why did she treasure those ugly octagon tortoise shell frames so much?

No matter how hard you try to overcome a lack of gymnastic talent, courage will not save you from injury and bruises. Even if you practice extra at home in the backyard in your leotard with the number pinned to the back. You will look cool in the back yard. Parents who have been drinking may even give you a score of 9.5 out of a perfect 10.

Courage and grit alone will not earn you a trip to the Olympics. No, you may not even earn ANY kind of medal in any kind of medal ceremony (though you practiced that in the backyard as well).

What you will get are peals of laughter from your kids as you share your gymnastics war stories while watching this year’s crop of talented athletes earn their medals.

You will earn giggles that are music to your ears. You will stun your children with the story of accidentally running into the vault. You will shock them with the mention of how various movements could lead your leotard to give you a wedgie and that points WERE deducted for adjusting your leotard.

Your kids will laugh until they beg you to stop describing the horror of your early gymnastic days.

“Please mom! Stop! I’m going to wet my pants.”

And you will know that some things are better than a gold medal. I’m happy for the medal winners and I will continue to cheer you all on, but the part I have enjoyed most about these Olympics is watching it with my kids and entertaining them with my athletic valor. Hey, someone has to make the others look good. Why not me?

Afterward: Yes, I did quit gymnastics within 2 years. A girl can only stand so much! I ended up playing soccer and had much greater success… though my career was tragically cut short by sports bras that were not up to the ample task before them. So sad.

Afterthought on current Olympic games: Maybe I will boycott watching men’s beach volleyball until they have to go out there in their underwear…. Hello ladies, what is up with the wet bikini contest??? Talk about hurting the credibility of your sport by allowing yourself to be objectified for the entertainment of the masses. Hello....?

So, is it just me? Did you wear a number on your back and perform in your own local edition of the summer Olympics? Do you think beach volleyball should be played with clothing on? I'm just curious....