From Uncles to Memiors

The Uneven Bars Lesson

The Uneven Bar Lesson

By: BookFlower

I started gymnastics at age ten with my seven year-old sister. We started out in an advance class filled with beginners. Even though it was our first class, we were more skillful, or so we were told. When the class ended for the season, the coach decided to move me up a level to Salto.

“Even though you have some weak points in all the events, I believe in you. I think you are strong enough to survive all detours and milestones that you will face in Salto. Have fun in Salto!” she told me.

I believed her and the following summer, at age eleven, my mother signed me up for Salto at Central High School through Community Education. Salto is the class or level before the team. Basically, Salto gets you ready for the community team.

I was late for my first day in Salto. It was a hot and muggy day and the air conditioning in the gym was broken for the summer. When you walked through the entrance way, you instantly feel like you’re in an oven. You can’t even feel the breeze coming from two large fans placed directly in front of you.

I was dressed in black, a horrible decision for a day like this. I had on black tights and a black t-shirt that clung to my upper body since it was the closest thing to a leotard.

“Welcome to Salto! My name is Melody and I will be your coach!” I was greeted instantly by a darker-skinned lady with a muscular body when I walked through the door into the muggy gym. I already felt worn out by the heat, I don’t know how I am going to last the whole two hours.

She handed me the jump rope that she was holding. “The others had already started warming up. “They already did at least 1 set of 50 jumping ropes, 50 jumping jacks and 3 lengths. They’re supposed to do 5 sets but you can do 3.”

I gasped in surprise and terror. I was already certain I was going to pass out before I finished my warm ups.

“Well you better get started now if you want to be done with everyone else!” Melody exclaimed. She smiled and I got started.

I was huffing and puffing like a dog on an Arizona summer day without a drink of water. My limbs were limp and I was basically a dead person. I bet I was also sweating like a horse after a race.

“We are going to start on the bars,” said Melody. “If you have any grips then go grab them now!”

The other five gymnasts scurried to their bags as I stood there awkwardly. Ever since I started gymnastics, I never liked the uneven bars. In fact, they were my worst event. I never liked the after results you get from the bars. They ended on my palms for weeks.

“Samantha? Can you go first?” Melodyasked a cheerful little blond girl who looked no more than nine years old.

She nodded confidently and chalked her palms and grips. Swiftly, like a gazelle, she pulled herself onto the lower bar and straddled onto the high bar. She did a pull over onto the top of the high bar and did a couple casts into a twist off.

Her routine amazed me. I stood there like an idiot gapping at her. I never saw anything like that except on television.

“Flower? Can you show us what you can do?” asked Melody. I mentally groaned but headed to the chalk box.

Imitating Samantha, I chalked my palms and headed to the bars. I did a pullover to get on top of the bar but failed miserably. Instead of getting on top of the bar I fell back down and landed on my feet.

“Try again,”Melody convinced me. I nodded and tried again. This time I succeed. “Cast five times then straddle off. Can you do that?”

I nodded and felt my arms start to give in. They already felt like Jell-O, caving in like a cave. I did five weak casts and began my straddle. I pulled my legs up to the bar and swung my hips and legs outwards towards the mat. Before my legs could reach the ground my upper body swung like lightning towards the ground.

I was on the ground, like I intended, but not on my feet. I was on my palms with my face attached to the mat. There was pain flowing through my veins and my brain told me to look down. I cried as I saw how ugly my palms looked. They were ripped open and blood was flowing through them uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” I was asked many times. I was helped up from the ground and pulled to the bathroom. Through my tears I saw my mother out in the hallway reading her parenting book. I sobbed even harder and walked faster not wanting my mother to see me like this.

Someone turned the water on and placed my palm under the running water. I jerked it out as soon as it touched the water and sobbed even harder than before. The tears from my eyes were falling like the Niagara Falls only not as pretty.

“The pain will soon go away as the rips get cleaned out,” said a soothing voice. I looked to see where who said this and found out it was Samantha. It sounded like she done this a million times.

Believing her, I placed my palms under the running water and it soon went away. The stinging evaporated into the blood beneath it but the pain and rip was still there.

“Thank you!” I said with a weak voice as I dried my hands off with towels back in the gym.

“You’re very welcome! I was just like that when I started. As you keep working on it, your hands eventually become harder and stronger than they were before!”Samantha announced to me.

She helped me bandage both my palms with white cotton skin tape. I thanked her again and got back into practicing.

Now, I don’t do gymnastics anymore but I learned a very valuable lesson. I learned to never give up no matter how much pain you’re in. You have to fight yourself to do things you never want to do or will never do, like going on the bars. Hard work and pain will bring success over time.

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This is a true story of my life, a memoir. All the events in this story is true. Following their directions to be kept anonymous, the names were changed around a bit. Hopefully you learn something!!