It was one little mistake.
Amidst years of training and finally getting to a college level,
I had to sit out.
I had to wait.
I had to watch.
I wasn’t allowed to move.
I wasn’t allowed to try.
I just had to sit, and watch, until I healed.
Boiling in my own frustration, I wanted to cry,
I wanted to scream,
I wanted to die.
Why did I have to get surgery?
Why did this have to happen?
It was only three months until meet season.
I was so close to reaching my goal…
I was so close.
Four weeks in, I knew there was nothing I could do.
I was injured.
That was that.
Frustration wouldn’t make me better,
Crying wouldn’t take away the pain,
Fear wouldn’t prevent future injuries.
I couldn’t have predicted that this would have happen,
I couldn't have known.
What if this had been the end of my career?
Had I really given it my all?
Had I truly trained with confidence?
Had I genuinely trained with passion?
As I heal, I promise to be better.
I promise to train with love,
If I had not been able to return to gymnastics,
I would have wasted years of my life.
I would have never trained as best as I could.
I would have never peaked.
As I enter my beloved sport once more,
I have learned to take risks,
And to be unabashed.
A mistake is acceptable if done with passion.
Because who knows?
Tomorrow might not be an option.
Life is too short to live small.
I would rather be hurt and content,
Than hurt and regretful.