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Standing at the edge, Madeline reached up and handed me a blue square. I knew where she was going with this before she said anything. I did similar drills on bars with these foam squares.
"Put the block between your knees and squeeze. Back handsprings up and down the track. This will give you cleaner and tighter back handsprings. Use those inner thighs."
Not only would this drill really benefit four events, but it would also rectify legs separating when moving from low bar to high bar. Any time I saw legs split just even a hair open during a Shaposh, I would grimace. It annoyed me to no end and all I could see was sloppiness from there on out. That being said, it was a lot harder to keep them closed than together. I completely understood the issue.
"Now back tucks," Madeline ordered before I reached the end of the track. Once I'd gotten a little more than halfway down the mat, she yelled, "Look how when your legs are tightly squeezed together how your hips rotate faster. It's beautiful and clean. This is what I want all the time, Adrianna. Great job!" Just when I thought I was going to get a second to catch my breath and not jump, Madeline added, "Now full twists with the foam."
Shit. My stomach was a flaming ball of heat from squeezing my abs. At least this was a little easier in a way. All I had to do was complete four back handsprings and a full-twist, not pull up my knees and punch out tucks every time.
On my last pass, my arms buckled. Bent at the elbow, my back gave out and yet somehow I dug deep and still managed to keep the square between my legs. I gasped quietly, catching myself so it appeared I'd just finished the pass and nothing more. Landing, my heart pounded so loud I could hear it thumping in my ears, and my skin tingled with little pricks from t
he tightening of my muscles.
"Great, now move to the floor and grab a folded panel mat. Set it down at your feet." Madeline stood off to the side and called out instructions. My joints cried out from the inside but I kept my face neutral.
"Once again, handstand hops. This time up to the mat and remember to extend your wrists. Start with one knee bent so it's facing forward." I brought my toes toward the opposite knee. "Right. This is going to make it so you have to wind up and kick with the bent leg. Handstand snap down from the mat and rebound. Remember to keep your hips flat and press the hip flexors open. Go."
I wasn't sure how many I had to complete, I guessed I'd go until she said stop, or until I couldn't take anymore.
I wasn't sure which was worse.
Only a handful in and Madeline said, "We want a quicker rebound. Push it, Adrianna." She clapped her hands loud, rushing for me to speed up. "Chest in, hips under! You need to use your lower back and stomach so you don't pike down."
I grew more exhausted each time I punched the floor with my feet and snapped my hips down. My entire body was ready to cave in. And the truth was, I couldn't tell if it was because I was physically or mentally worn out.
"Head and arms stand parallel, I don't want to see your ears. Your head and shoulders are not to come out first. When you bend your body down, your arms and head go at the same pace and direction. Do not pop that head up like a turtle."
I grimaced. Coach Madeline was starting to sound like Kova.
I didn't give up though. Not once. I fought through the tiredness and pain. If I didn't sacrifice myself in those moments and push, then what I wanted would become the sacrifice. I was too close to the victory tape to give up now.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Any exhaustion and fatigue I was dealing with earlier was long gone now.
A hot shower, four Motrin, and a cup of dark coffee would do that to you. Throw in some lemon garlic chicken and a detox salad, and I was ready to ride.
Too bad it was nine at night and I had nowhere to go. I hated this. The after effect following a long and demanding day made it difficult for me to wind down once I was home. I was restless, antsy, and anxious. I wanted to sleep, but there was no going to sleep until at least midnight. I was lucky if I got five hours of sleep, but it was never solid or straight through.
I had no homework. No one to talk to. And I didn't care to watch television. My body needed the rest, so it was a good thing, but I was jittery.
Alone, I sat on my bed with my knee bouncing, trying to read a book. My mind drifted every few paragraphs, I couldn’t focus. I thought about the meet coming up, my routines, how I was faring. A sharp pain shot through my chest. I was confident I had a good shot at testing elite the first time, but I frowned when I thought back to Kova's comment earlier today about my weight.
He insisted I had lost weight.
Standing up, I considered the floor length mirror. I ripped off my pajama shorts and loose shirt and dropped them to the floor. I took three steps and stood in front of the mirror in only a pair of panties. With wide, startled eyes, I stared at my reflecting image as I studied myself from head to toe.
My heart sank. Kova was on the money.
I had lost weight. A lot of weight—at least a good ten pounds, maybe more—which was depressing since I didn't have much to lose to begin with. And ten pounds on a gymnast of my stature was a substantial amount. I hadn't even noticed. My leotards were made to be snug, so were all my workout clothes. And I didn't take pictures of my scale and send them to my mom anymore. Though if I did tonight, she'd be happier than a pig in shit.
While I hadn't skipped every meal, thinking back, I'd skipped at least one a day. I wasn't starving myself, I just wasn't hungry.
As I pulled my hair up into a messy bun, my collarbone protruded and caused ghastly indents. Thank goodness for my Italian roots that blessed me with olive skin, otherwise I'd look sickly. My ribs strained against my skin when I inhaled deeply, displaying the length of the bones. While I could count each rib, there was no denying I still had elegant muscle definition. Toned and lean. Even my breasts seemed perkier. I turned around and looked over my shoulder, my gaze wandering down each visible vertebrate, and over my high, firm butt that highlighted gorgeous glutes.
In my eyes, I was perfect. When I really studied myself, I loved the way I looked and that's what mattered most. This was the best shape I'd ever been in to date. A smile spread across my face when I spotted the distinct thigh gap so many woman envied. My hand slipped between my legs, my fingers roaming the soft skin on my inner thighs. Arching my ass a little higher, I could see my supple sex through my tiny, white panties. My lips parted.
I loved the way I looked from this angle. A little sexy, a little innocent.
