practice. Hayden tried to get my attention once I was in the lobby, but I limped my ass out of there as fast as I could. The last thing I wanted to see was Kova kissing Katja. Or worse, hear her mouth slurping over his body.
Forty-Six
One week later, we were in Charlotte, North Carolina, and at another competition.
This one was a little smaller, but just as important as the last. Every meet for the next three months was crucial. Not just for my journey to the Olympics, but placing in the top at each one.
My stomach swirled with anxiety and impatience. I was so excited yet so apprehensive, full of unease for my future. I had so much on the line with one shot to get there. I wanted it all right now, but I didn't.
Things were going very well, better than I could've expected. I'd been sleeping better, headaches were gone, and I had way more stamina than usual. All thanks to the vitamin shots I was giving myself a few times a day. The doctor had ordered one injection once a week, but I figured it was a vitamin and it couldn't hurt to take more. I think the stress of testing elite had really taken a toll on my body because once I had that past me, it was smooth sailing…for the most part.
I hadn't had the blading on my Achilles, thank goodness since it sounded awful, but I'd had a steroid injection right into the tendon a day later, and it helped tremendously. Most of the pain and aching went away, but I knew it wouldn't last forever.
The problem was finding someone who could provide me with the Graston Technique without a waitlist. There were very few people skilled in my area who could do it when I needed. Meaning immediately.
Kova and Madeline were both certified athletic trainers. They both could do therapy on my Achilles, but both would require proper training first. It was a special course that entailed four full days of training, two weekends, plus a certification test.
Kova told me he was considering it, but finding the time to fit it in his schedule was another task altogether. Any spare time had been devoted to me at my request. But then I thought of something.
"Kova?"
Kova turned and gave me a once over. I was up soon for my first event of the competition.
"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern.
I nodded. "I'm fine. I was just thinking that since we have another meet in two weeks, why don't we skip next weekend’s practice so you can take the first half of that class?"
Kova's eyes dropped to my taped ankle then back up to mine.
"Why? Are you in pain now? What is it? What do you need me to do," he quickly shot off as if I'd been in agony and crying out. He stalked toward me. I smiled, my eyes softened at his distress.
"I'm okay. I was just thinking about the future is all."
His features shifted back into place. Back into Coach Kova. "Adrianna, let me handle my schedule. You just focus on you, yes?"
I blinked. "I am focused, but I was thinking about these little tears and how I don't want to make it worse. I've been doing a lot of online reading and that blading is supposed to do wonders."
Kova studied me. I made no sense. I know I didn't. I pushed and pushed, and argued with Kova over not slowing down, despite his suggestions. I knew any worse and it would be a full-blown rupture, and then I could kiss my gymnastics career goodbye. I wanted to be bold and courageous, but I was a little lamb picking on an animal bigger than me. I was going to give it my all and then some, but I still had to be careful.
"Use your brain. Think about what you are doing, what you need to do, and do it. Your body will know. Focus on right now and yourself and nothing more."
"But, Kova, you take time out to help me, so I want to help you if I can." I paused and looked away, slightly embarrassed. "You do a lot for me."
"I appreciate that. And after this weekend, we will work it out. But for now, you are not to think of anything else but yourself and your routines. Let me take care of the rest." Kova glanced up and over my head, someone had called his name. "You are