Believing in Yourself

If you don't get lost, there's a chance you may never be found. ~Author Unknown

This morning, I was at the gym with a client. Al was there for summer camp. While my client and I were stretching, he came over to me and asked, "Is this yours? I found it over by the trash can." It was an orange piece of paper folded up, and read: "Michael- I wanna fight you" It was signed, "anonymous".

I've been trying to lose some weight by hitting the heavy bag every day, so I can start doing gymnastics again (Ita says I need to cut down on my calories after looking at the contents of one of my Japanese fruit drinks). Al thought maybe it was from someone who's seen me punching the bag, was going to challenge me, then thought twice and tried to throw it away in the trash.

The handwriting looked too neat to be that of a little kid. Quite a while ago (before I started working on the gym's punching bag) Julia used to periodically say to me, "I wanna fight you.", for whatever reason, in the manner of a schoolyard bully. So, my first and only guess as to who "anonymous" was, is Julia.

When team came in to workout in the evening, it was confirmed by Julia that she was the author of the note. But she hadn't thrown it away; she had apparently stuck it in my camera under the lens cap, and it must have fallen out.

She asked me if I had gotten her email, but I hadn't until I got home this evening. It was so moving, and I feel so important to share, that I asked Julia for permission to post it for others to read. I hope it gives hope and reassurance to others who have had similar experiences and are struggling and can relate; and I hope it makes coaches pause and think about the role they play (and can play) in the lives of young athletes, to impact and to influence....

Julia's Story

Believing in yourself is naturally one of the most neccesary characterics not just for gymnastics, but for any sport. If an athlete does not believe that he or she can perform the skills needed in order to succeed in their sport, it will be difficult for the athlete to do well. However, sometimes even more important than believing in yourself is having the motivation that you can succeed; in other words, having an instructor and peers who believe in you. Without having the confidence only others can provide, an athlete will have trouble believing that they have the ability to succeed.

I feel my story is different from many. Unlike most gymnasts at my level, I started gymnastics much later in life, at age ten, where most agree that a female gymnast should begin training at or before age six, if she wishes to compeat at higher levels. When I began gymnastics, I had very high hopes and almost too much confidence for a gymnast at my level. I always felt that my coaches were holding me back and that I was much too advanced for the mediocre skills I was being asked to perform. I thought that I could do "much harder stuff", if only I was given the chance. Needless to say, it took me nearly two years, when I began compeating level four, to come down from that cloud and realize that at my age, I would never succeed in gymnastics. For two more years I continued to work on the same skills over and over again because I was not allowed to try anything more difficult. It was often implied by my coaches that I wasn't good enough to work harder skills. As time went by, I sunk into a state where nothing I did seemed to be enough.

I was improving, though. In those two years, my scores began to rise entire points, from 8.6's to 9.6's, but that still wasn't enough. I was told I had to score at least a 36 all-around to move up to level five, but for some reason, a 36.7 wasn't sufficient and I was kept at level four. The only person I felt who truely believed I could do better was one of my coaches, Lily. Often, when my hands were too ripped up to do bars, Lily would take me and teach me the level five beam and floor skills. I even learned my front tuck on the floor with her. But of course once my other coach caught on to what was happening, I was sent to condition if my hands were hurting.

Before my decision to transfer to SMGC, I was ready to quit gymnastics entirely; it wasn't fun anymore doing the same things over and over. My head was filled with people telling me what I couldn't do. I was fed up. It took a while for Gianna Woodruff (who went to my school) to convince me to try out SMGC before thinking about quiting. It took a while longer to convince my mother to let me try out SMGC. I have vague memories of that first Saturday there. I know I met Oona Nicholas and Jesse Stone, who told me I was FLEXIBLE. I had never been complimented by fellow teammates before. Where I came from, everything was a competition; by telling someone else they were doing well, it was admitting you were doing poorly.

Monday I returned timidly to SMGC to find Oona on the trampoline. I was NEVER allowed on the trampoline at Broadway. That workout was fantastic. For the first time in a long while, nobody was holding me back or telling me I wasn't allowed to try something. It was an exhilerating feeling because I was finally beginning to love gymnastics again.

Tuesday, my mother insisted I give Broadway one last try, before making the decision to transfer. I won't go into the details, but I don't think it was until I left that class in tears, that my mother truely understood my reasons for wanting to move and how important it was to me.

That year at SMGC, I learned more skills then I could ever had at Broadway. While I was making enormous progress, advancing to level five states and even placing first on vault at a meet, my friends back at Broadway informed me that they were still stuck on level four. I was flying, and not just figuratively. With coaches who would tell me what I was doing right and not just what I was doing wrong, I felt as though nothing was stopping me anymore. In mere months, I got my kip, front handspring, back tuck, back walkover on beam, free hip and fly away, all just from having people who truely believed in me and what I could do.

A year and a half ago, I would have never believed I would be getting ready to compeat levels six and seven, and yet here I am, with all my confidence back as though I am ten-years-old again. Nothing will hold me back or stop me from persuing my goals. Fear is temporary, it will pass, but having those to help me overcome my fears is most important. I am so lucky to be surrounded by people who care about me and don't tell me I can't do something; "I can't" is something I no longer say, but instead I say "I can" and "I will".

It was a lucky day for me when Gianna taught me how to kip on the school's chin-up bars ;)

Julia Wallace

Of the millions of participants in the sport, who cross our paths, who we have an opportunity to coach and nurture, how many will ever amount to the level of Olympic caliber gymnast? It is a shame when coaches focus primarily on the fraction of 1% of the thousands of gymnasts who might be a champion, neglecting the majority of gymnastics participants who might not amount to the level of elite competitor (let alone competitor); their experience and exposure to the sport can be just as rewarding as the experience of a world champion winning a hunk of medal.

One of the most rewarding moments I have had as a coach, was when I finally got a student of mine to do a basic forward roll. It took her 3 months.....just to get a forward roll. Things just clicked one Saturday morning, after I had her try it over the resi-pit. After she "got it", she was forward-rolling, everywhere we went, from event to event. It was deeply rewarding, more so than teaching someone a double back, who gets it after only several tries.

To me, gymnasts like Julia are winners, because they participate on their own terms, live to reach their full potential, and squeeze out as much as they can from the sport they love...and will continue to love after hanging up the grips.

I'm also glad Julia didn't quit after Broadway because I never would have been able to make two cool videos (nor challenged to a fight by a punk girl):
A little less conversation

and

the making of...

The task of the excellent teacher is to stimulate "apparently ordinary" people to unusual effort. The tough problem is not in identifying winners: it is in making winners out of ordinary people. ~K. Patricia Cross


A teacher affects eternity; he can never tell where his influence stops. ~Henry Adams