As most girls could probably relate, I grew up watching gymnastics and convinced myself that one day, I would be girl in the leotard, with the pinned back hair and massive legs. I even knew what my leotard would look like, it was pink with SPARKLES. LOTS of SPARKLES! We, randomly, had a balance beam and I would perform amazing routines. Just ask my sister and neighbor who had score cards to prove it.
Well, the massive legs did happen (I have my father's legs!), but my dreams of becoming the next Mary Lou Retton were squashed in a matter of 3 seconds. When I walked into my first practice at 7 years old, all of my childhood insecurity crawled to the surface. I believe I was signed up for the wrong class, as 16 year old girls filled the room. I saw one flip off the balance beam in, what I assumed to be, pure perfection. It looked way more legit than any of my backyard routines. I'll never forget seeing one girl do three back handsprings in a row. THREE. At that time, that was just about the COOLEST! I quickly convinced myself that I couldn't compete. I walked into the locker room with an excuse of a bad stomach ache, and cried on my dad's shoulders as I quickly gave up my olympic future.
I happen to be an extremely clumsy person who has trouble putting one foot in front of the other half the time - none the less flipping on a 6 inch beam. I like to think my childhood insecurity saved me from many broken bones.

After gymnastics, there was dancing. That quickly finished after I was cast to play the lead where I had to jump out of a flower and KISS A BOY. I used my stomach ache excuse {again} to skip out of each practice after that, until I finally admitted to my mom that they were forcing me to kiss some cootie-infested boy. How dare they!

Each night I sit and watch the games, mostly while eating dinner.  I question my next bite into a steak as my television screen is filled with one six pack after another. I follow dinner with a quick ab routine and continue to cheer on the athletes. I like to believe the cheering and support is just as important as the intense training routine.
Who wants to wear a leotard for millions to see anyway?!! That's almost like having to kiss a boy when springing out of a flower. HORRIBLE!


  1. I'll bet I could dig up a picture of you and Tricia at Genesee Gymnastics when you were about 3. You guys were FULL of talent (at least your mom and I thought you were!)

  2. If I had a cute little figure like that again, I'd wear a sparkly leotard to my local grocery store! ;)


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