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Behind the glitz and glamour of one of the most esthetically appealing Olympic sports, were hours and hours of tears, blood, and sweat I'd put in for this moment. All the preparations, the mistakes I'd made that brought on a series of ups and downs, the rigorous long training that sometimes made me want to give up, outrageous coaching methods that ended with positive results because my coach demanded nothing less than perfection, it all came down to this. This was it. This was what it had all been for.
"Gymnastics is seventy percent mental, thirty percent physical. Your body already knows what comes next. All you need to do is have trust in yourself." His brows rose. "Prove yourself to you," he said, and it reminded me of what I'd read in that book Sophia gave me.
I nodded again.
"Talk to me, Adrianna. Tell me what is on your mind."
Taking another deep breath, my shoulders fell when I exhaled. I looked at him and said, "I'm nervous. I can't concentrate. All I keep thinking about is what if I mess up. I think about my routines. Who my biggest competitor is on each event. My mind is all over the place."
I clenched my fingers into a fist and felt how swollen they were. I was beyond anxious from the moment I opened my puffy eyes in the tiny room I shared with one of my teammates in the Olympic Village. My bones ached, my skin was tight and inflamed.
When I woke up, I'd immediately taken all of my medications, then I ate a banana. I wasn't supposed to have them, but it was all there was in the room since the cafeteria was too far to walk to with the little time I had to get ready. This was the first time I didn't have to hide the bottles, and it felt good.
My teammate didn't stare at me like I was contagious while she watched from her bed. She didn't question me. She didn't even bat an eye when I threw back eight different pills, and dramatically said, "Make way world, here I come." She just laughed. She was a freshly turned sixteen-year-old, but she looked twelve. She was also the alternate who'd been given a chance.
The four of us had decided to get ready in one room this morning. My chest had been so tight that I couldn’t even get in a proper deep breath. Nerves hung in the air like black dripping tar. We joined hands to form a circle and prayed together silently to our higher ups, preparing to take on the biggest event of our lives. The confidence shone brightly, quietly, as we bowed our heads and closed our eyes.
The United States had won gold in the last two Olympics. The pressure was on. Determined to take the prized medal home, we dubbed ourselves the Phenomenal Four.
After our prayer session, one of the girls had played Beyoncé's "Run the World (Girls)" and the mood instantly changed. Giggles and smiles replaced the distressing fear. Our hair was intricately braided into stylish ponytails topped with spray glitter, and our makeup was naturally done. Sports bras and bloomers were tucked in and hidden, hairspray was applied to our butt cheeks and thighs so the leos didn't move too much. After shedding a few more tears, we took turns posing for pictures solo and grouped together.
The most emotional part of the morning had been when I stepped into my leotard with USA stamped on the back. There were swirls and swirls of red and blue crystals against a white background. I ran my hands down my flat stomach and then over my long sleeves, feeling the decorations under my palms. I had allowed myself to take in the moment and smiled, hugging myself.
Nothing, and I mean nothing, could describe the feeling that had rushed through me as I pulled up the sparkly, stretchy material for the first time.
I had done it.
By some miracle, I had made it to the Olympics.
"It is not only about how good you are as a gymnast physically, it is about how good you are here, too," Kova said, his fingertips back on my temples, pulling me from my thoughts. "You have shown there is no limit to your dreams. You rose to the challenge. It has been a privilege to coach you. Watching your growth in the sport has been the highlight of my career. You are my biggest accomplishment. You withstood the pressure and odds and proved everyone wrong. I am proud of you and cannot wait to watch you out there."
Damn it. Tears filled my eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to hold them in, but his words, they were spoken from his heart and not because he was trying to encourage me. I knew by his intimate tone that Kova meant them. Without another thought, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaned down for a hug.
It was hard for me to talk. I wanted to say something back to him, but my emotions were too strong and I couldn't find words good enough for him. I'd only been with Kova and his gym for a few years now, but it felt more like a lifetime when we worked so closely together. He motivated me. He critiqued every little thing I did to help me perfect it, knowing I wanted nothing less. Kova helped me see that I could resist the fall that so many easily succumbed to on this journey.
This was our last competition together. The final show.
The last time that Kova would stand before me and make sure I was mentally prepared.
My heart pounded against my ribs so hard, I could feel it in my throat.
It didn't hit me until right now that this truly was the end in so many ways. Even if I hadn't wanted to train in college, I wouldn't be walking into World Cup again to prepare for another Olympics.
While I could mentally handle the training, my body could not physically endure another four years. I didn't want to ever admit it, but the truth was, I was too weak to continue. I'd maxed out. Stubbornness, willpower, ambition, call it what you wanted, it's what got me here to this moment, but I didn't have a death wish. I knew that after the Olympics this really was the last time for us.
One last squeeze, I missed the comfort of his arms so much. If only after the competition I could end the night with him just like this. Kova meant so much to me, he gave me more than he realized. Without him by my side, I don't think I would've made it this far.
Sniffling, I pulled back and looked at him. Before I could wipe away my tears, Kova's thumbs were already there. He dried his hands on his pants. I expelled a tight breath, trying to exhale the nerves and shook my fingers out.
My jaw trembled as our eyes met. My teeth dug into my lip as I fought the surge of feelings flushing through me. There was so much commotion around us as staff instructed the athletes where to line up and where the coaches needed to be. We were just getting ready to walk out to be introduced.
"This is our last competition together," I said.
Kova’s tongue ran over his bottom lip as he studied my eyes. "Let us make it the best one yet."
I nodded, and he stood.
Bending down, Kova picked up my duffle bag and placed it over his shoulder. Just as he was about to walk away to stand with the other coaches behind us, I reached for his wrist. Kova glanced down.
