year helped tremendously.
Elongating my arms out to my sides, I controlled my breathing to prepare for my dismount. A balance beam routine was quick—no more than ninety seconds at most.
I sashayed then lifted one leg forward immediately turning into a switch leap, a gainer pike then a pivot turn in under a couple of seconds. Arms raised in the air, I eyed the end of the balance beam and took a deep breath and exhaled. Stepping into a round-off back handspring, I completed my dismount with a double back tuck, both feet together and sticking my landing.
Anxiously, I waited on the judges. I knew I qualified based on the previous events, but seeing the numbers is what made it valid. Seconds turned to minutes to what felt like hours.
I removed the sports tape while I waited and pulled on my sweats. I drank water, fixed my ponytail, tried to find anything to keep me busy to calm my nerves.
I heard the elation from my coaches and teammates before I saw the score. I looked up at the board and a massive grin spread across my face.
I had qualified for Compulsory with flying colors, even earning a few medals for myself and for the team.
I. Qualified. For. Compulsory.
Holy. Shit.
The feeling inside, the joy, the pure excitement and satisfaction of seeing I'd done it, was all too much to explain. I was rushed by my team and coaches congratulating me. The hard work, the grueling and demanding hours, had paid off and I couldn't be happier.
With one half of the meet behind me, all I needed to do now was do it all over again, but with different routines. Then, I would officially be elite.
I could do it. I just had to make sure I held back the tears of excitement until it was all over.
Forty-Three
When something is too good to be true, it usually is.
It was much later in the evening when I began to test for Optionals. Three events down, I had one to go. I couldn’t stop checking the scoreboard this time around for some reason, the nagging feeling in my gut persisted with each passing minute.
Damn nerves. My hands trembled, and I had a raging headache, all caused by myself. My anxiety was through the roof.
My scores had been good, they were where I needed them to be, just not incredible like I had hoped for. I strived to be better, the best, but I was too close to teetering the line between qualifying and not qualifying. A balance check away from everything slipping.
I realized my best wasn't good enough for me. And the fear of that, never being enough, was as strong as ever. It took control of my emotions and I began replaying the events I already completed, wondering if I had given my all like I thought I did.
I released a deep sigh of criticism. "I could've done more."
"Could you have? Truly have done more?"
I stared at the floor, my next and last event, contemplating his words. "I think so. Everyone could always do more."
"You are not giving yourself credit. Your routines are much harder this time around, which means more deductions," Kova said when he saw the worried look on my face. "It is not easy."
All I could do was glare at him with flat lips.
His voice grew stern. "You are letting fear mock you, Adrianna. Do not let it win." He paused. "Where is this coming from, anyway?"
I said nothing. I wasn't sure where my feelings were coming from.
Kova shook his head. "If you still feel that way when this is all over, then when you walk into practice Monday morning you make up for it. Give me all you got, and I will take it and more. I promise you, I will take you for everything you are worth, but do not let your emotions soar so high that you lose it all in a ninety second routine. That fear will make you fail. Do not fail."
I gave him a long blink.
"I believe in you," he whispered low, only for my ears.
The corner of his eyes crinkled, and the candidness shook me. He meant it. Hand to his chest, he said again, "I believe in you." His cheeks turned a slight scarlet and his mouth twitched.
His declaration, the faith padding each word, his undying devotion to me and the sport. It was all there. It gave me chills to have someone in my corner rallying behind me the way he was.
I wasn't