The melody encouraged me, the faint sounds of children laughing, coaches yelling anxiously at their athletes, the sound of people dismounting onto mats as if someone were obnoxiously popping there gum in your face, the way the trampoline sounded when it stretched, it was so unique, the sounds of the chalk being drawn onto each individual wrinkle when you close your hands, each sound so was profound, slowly rattling in my ears, almost comforting me in a way, it was home. It felt right, like the way peoples hands fit right into each other, like a key. Each sound so fervent in my head that soon they all began to converge together, humming, as if creating one sounds its self, just like my thoughts.
My thoughts controlled me, they haunted me, they provoked me, they laughed at me, and they bruised me, my thoughts consumed me, my thoughts were me. My mental game was lacking. It was almost ironic in a way. Gymnastics, being a judged sport, almost everything you do is out of your control, but what I began to learn is that the mind is something you that use everyday and is crucial for the sport, and is controlled by the athlete.
Although at first I wasn’t very fond of my coach Amanda, she quickly taught me lessons, no friends, no parents, and no school teachers would be able to teach me, (through methods of journaling) the importance of strong mental game.
It was December, I gazed out the window at the white snow that covered the city like a blanket, it was getting dark out and the lights on the trees and from the businesses around lit up the streets. My muscles were starting to tire, my eyes became soft, and my motivation for the day was slowly declining. I stood on the beam, l could feel the graininess of the beam below my feet, like sandpaper, my feet stuck to the beam like super glue, not even budging an inch, They were heavy, like tired eyes, they did not move, they didn’t want to move. I glanced at the clock it was almost time to stretch and go home. My brain felt numb, I had been working flick-lays (a backhand-spring- step-out connected with a lay- out step-out) for a week now and I was still frozen in fear. Everyone is always impressed when I tell them about my gymnastics career, they would sparkle in awe of the various tricks most people dream about doing, but what they don’t understand is that more than 50% of the sport is all mental. Yes physical skilled is required, but the emotional, and mental game you play, is far more, demanding, far more, complexed, and far more impressive.
I wasn’t progressing anymore, my mind was soaking in fear. I could hear the voices of my teammates and my coaches calling my name, yelling, cheering, screaming at me to go. If I did not go for my flick lay, no one would be going home on time tonight and we would be forced to condition. I looked at the clock one last time feeling guilty that I might keep all my teammates here. At that moment I had given up. I wasn’t going to go. I could here the clock slowly tick, faster and faster, time was slipping from my fingers like quick-sand. Silence fell. The clocked ticked 5 more beats, I glanced around still discouraged and scared.
“Thats it! Everybody to the floor right now!” Amanda, my coach said.
I was being punished, WE were being punished, my team was being punished.
My team and I sprinted around the floor for what seemed like hours, while doing our tumbling passes in complete and utter exhaust. We did rope climbs without legs until our arms could no longer pull us up and down the ropes, we did pull-ups when our arms didn’t even know they could do pull-ups anymore. We held onto the bar until our hands bled, we conditioned until our bodies gave out and we could no longer condition; not because we were supposed to but because I had let the mental side of the sport get the best of me. I knew from the start that I could do the skill, but I chose not to. By the time the night was over, I was completely defeated, both mentally and physically.
The next day before practice my coach Amanda talked to me about what had happened the other day, she explained how I have choices, and choosing to control my mind in a way that is working to my advantage would help me in the long run. She worked with me and gave me sports physiologist exercises to improve the way I thought about skills I was scared to throw. The written exercises and the ones I practiced in the gym helped me through each and everyday and showed me the true importance of literature in my life. I wrote everyday three things that were positive, and one thing I could improve on, then I rated my self from 1-10 on at where I wanted to be and where I as at and any extra thoughts I had for that day. I also wrote a short phrase that I thought would help me through the next day. Each and everyday I did this. Eventually, I was more aware of my mental being and was able to move foreword from each day better with the journals. Through writing and literacy I was able to use it towards something I was passionate about. Amanda explained that I was already mentally strong I just needed to use it to my advantage, and the journals I did showed me this. I learned the day I made my whole team condition that being mentally strong is the first and most crucial thing to anything I would tackle in life. This lesson from literacy was not only something I could apply to my sports career, but something very applicable in the future challenges of everyday life. I learned that hard work, determination, and motivation is purely driven by your state of mind. With my journals It was easy to acquire a skill set that would help me through anything, it was a skill set that would not be there without the written exercises my coach had given me to work through my fears.
Eventually, I came back to beam revived and ready to go. I overcame my fear of my flick lay and was ready to master new skills again. I finally understood that I could be the one who can control my thoughts, my deepest fears, and my insecurities, and everything I thought or didn’t think. This was my ticket to success, this was the literacy of gymnastics.