Strength didn't come from what you could do, it came from the power within one’s heart, a determination unlike no other to thrive.
Sometimes I needed someone to remind me of that.
Twenty-Eight
My thigh muscles were tight, burning from jumping rope so long.
Like tiny fire ants creeping up my calves and into my legs. I wanted to stop and take a small break, but I knew if I did I'd only regret it. Instead, I focused my eyes ahead on the wall and endured it. I took long, calm breaths and I kept going until I hit three hundred jumps. I stopped on the last one and exhaled loudly, my back slouching over. That was way harder than I expected.
"Nope. No way. Do another set."
"What? Why?" I shrieked, glaring down at him. Coach Kova was back and he was insane. No, he was certifiable. I already knew this. Gone was sentimental Kova, and in his place was Coach Dick. I just completed two hundred more jumps than he asked for and he wanted another set.
"You do not finish with showing exhaustion," he yelled at me with fire in his eyes. "You finish as if it cost you nothing. Like it was a walk on the beach. Not like you are a dying cat. Suck it up and do it again."
A dying cat. Kova could kick rocks. I swallowed back my words, it wasn't easy, but I managed and did as he ordered like it was no sweat off my back. After all, I promised not to talk back.
"Toes!"
He muttered in Russian under his breath. "Remember to breathe properly."
A cramp resonated in the arch of my foot. I chewed the inside of my lip and held my breath, blinded by the discomfort. It throbbed wildly, and I wanted to stop for a second to flex my foot. The spasm rippled, tightening and contracting into a hard ball. I gritted my teeth to ignore the pain and made a mental note to drink more water. By the end of another set, a fiery burn vibrated in every indentation of my abs. Gymnastics was all core strength, so no matter which drill I completed, I had to use my stomach to balance my center and keep my body tight.
"See? Was that so difficult?" Kova asked. "Jump down."
"I had a cramp in my foot."
He looked down at me, baffled. "And? What would you like me to do for a cramp? Baby you? Drink more water and watch your diet. Toughen up." Before I could bite back, he said, "Turn around and face the beam. Curl your toes under and bend your knees."
Nothing but orders from this man. It wouldn't kill him to be polite every once in a while.
I did as he requested and held the beam to steady myself. Kova came up behind me and placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed down against my body. My thighs hardened and flexed to hold myself up, just bouncing slightly. He used the ball of his foot to press on my heel and push it forward to extend the arch and stretch it out. He did this repeatedly on both feet. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt at all. The pull felt good. I was one of those weird athletes who liked stretching and conditioning.
"Good. Stand up and turn sideways. I want you to place your hands around your foot and extend it up. Hold it there." Once my knee was flat to my chest, he stepped closer. "Eventually we will do this on beam, but for now we will work it on the floor. Lock your knee then relevé. We want your hips squared but relaxed. We do not want any tightness. You would be surprised to hear how many gymnasts have weak hips, how their leaps and jumps are not one eighty. As you know, points are deducted for anything less than one eighty. This will help with that."
Holding this position was much harder than I thought. Unless he was up on the beam with me, I wasn't sure I'd be able to do this. It took complete control. I swayed to the side but Kova caught me. He slapped my thigh, silently advising me to tighten up, and pressed his fingers into my skin to hold me steady. Leaning into me so his body was flush against mine, he reached around to press on my glute to open my hip, then he angled me forward, still holding on.