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Standing at the end of the runway line, I looked for Coach.
“Do your double without my help. Let me see where you are at.”
After I landed my vault, I looked at him. He wasn’t pleased.
“Stronger hurdle. Power, we need power, Adrianna,” he ordered, clapping his hands. Thing was, the bottom half of my leg was on fire.
I nodded and vaulted again with his help. Over the next hour, all I heard was:
“Adrianna, squeeze those legs and make them straight as a damn board. Do you want to tear your ACL?”
“Adrianna. Tighter body.”
“Adrianna,” he said slowly, with irritation. “Set higher. Do you really think you can pull a two and a half like that?”
“Adrianna, push harder!”
“Do you really want this?”
“Block, Adrianna!” He groaned. “Get that set higher.”
“You got it...crank it tighter now!”
“Faster, higher, stronger. That is no good!”
“You are under rotating, that is why you are hopping back!”
Then he started in Russian. At that point, my body was sore and I’d reached the point of exhaustion. I had another hour or so before I had to break for class. And for the first time in my gymnastics career, I couldn’t wait to be done with gym and for tutoring to start.
“You are a power tumbler, but we need more muscle, so for the next thirty minutes we will condition and
then cool down. Okay? We need to do this after every workout.”
Ugh. I groaned loudly, my head falling back. Every gymnast hated conditioning with a passion, but we also knew not to skimp on it. We’d only be holding ourselves back if we did.
Kova took me to a side of the gym meant only for stretching and weight training. We didn’t lift weights like body builders, but we did use them for specific muscle building drills where we needed to target.
“Okay, get on your back and lie flat. Arms by your ears.”
No problem.
Coach picked up one twenty pound dumbbell and walked over to me. Getting on his knees, he sat behind my head and instructed me to open my hands, placing the heavy weight in my palms. He was so close I could smell his citrusy, cinnamon scent, not that powdery chalk smell of the gym.
“You are going to keep your arms by your ears. Lift your legs and arms at the same time and come together, but only half way. This is going to build muscle here.” Kova placed a flat hand to my pelvic region and my stupid body heated all over from it. I looked around to see if anyone could see us. Tingles broke out across my skin. His fingers were like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, and I wondered if Katja had the same reaction to him.
“Now, slowly lift,” he said, his hand still on me.
I lifted, but too fast. “You are not in a race to finish, Adrianna. Take it slow.”
Be still my heart. I loved how my name rolled off his tongue.
Kova continued to stare at my stomach like he was unable to make eye contact with me. “Lift slower,” was all he said impassively.
“Tighten,” he ordered when I began lifting slower, hollowing my body into a small boat look. He pressed his fingers into my stomach feeling for muscle. “This is what I want to feel. Right here...tighter.” He nodded to himself in satisfaction. His hand burned my stomach.
I cleared my throat and our eyes locked. “Seriously? You couldn’t think of any other word to use?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and his emerald eyes gleamed. I dropped to the floor. “English is not my first language. Forgive me.”
