The Eighth Stand

“Don’t forget to keep your legs straight on that front-tuck step out Bell!” coach Jenn yelled from across the blue spring floor. It was a brisk winter, back in 2015. I belonged to Champions United Gymnastics Academy where I was a JOGA Level 4. Our first competition of the season at TNT Gymnastics. I was warming up my second tumbling pass. A front-tuck step out, cartwheel, round-off back handspring step out. I hear Jenn’s voice in the back of my head, reminding me of what I must correct as I ran and hurdled into the tumbling pass. “Keep those legs straight Bella, keep them straight.” I punch into the front-tuck preparing for the step out, my first leg coming down as straight as ever, almost too straight. Gravity pulled me back down to the hard blue floor, my first leg coming down completely locked, and POP. Before my right leg had the chance to come down, it was already too late. One minute I was rotating through the air trying to perfect my pass, and the next I find myself lying down in the middle of the mat in the fetal position, holding my left knee to my chest. I didn’t know it then, but this was just the very beginning of my 5-year fight.

I remember lifting my head and seeing coach, Jenn hovering overtop of me staring at my knee. I knew I hyperextended it but I also knew if I even looked at it I would pass out. My ears were ringing and I was kind of in shock when Jenn and the owner grabbed a sting mat, and lifted me up onto it. Around me I could see my teammates with their hands over their mouths, and my mom running across the mats to where I was lying. Apparently it was worse than we had expected. Quietly sitting in the ER with my mom, a young nurse brought me to get X-Rays, standing me up against the wall platform she asked me to straighten both my legs as best as I could. I had just completely hyperextended my knee! Fighting through the excruciating pain, the X-Rays were taken. After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, we were seen by a male doctor in a long white coat with a rather blank expression on his face. We walked into the examination room, where on full display were my X-Rays. I’m no doctor, but they didn’t look so great. The doctor prompted us to have a seat, while he explained what he believed was going on with me. He then asked if we had any knowledge of Hemihypertrophy disease. He began to explain to us that from the looks of my X-Rays, he believed I had it. Now if you’re not familiar with Hemihypertrophy disease, it is a bone disease where one side of your body's bones are rather larger or smaller than the other. This disease also connects with things like tumors, blood clots, and more. So in more clear context, I was basically being told that my gymnastics career, as I knew it, was over for good. I went home that night and did a lot of crying, but also a lot of thinking. One of the thoughts that came to me that night was, if my one leg was slightly bent during the X-Ray, wouldn’t that make my one leg’s bones appear bigger than the other? If my brain works somewhat correctly, the answer is yes. How could the doctors not have caught this? I immediately brought this thought to my parents attention, and with that they called and made an appointment for an MRI, followed by a new appointment at a different hospital in Philadelphia. After I got the MRI and met the new doctors, they explained to me that there was no Hemihypertrophy to worry about and that I had hyperextended my right knee and fractured the edge of my Tibia under my knee cap. I was told I’d be out for at least 4 months, plus physical therapy and crutches for 8 weeks. Hearing this news made a great impact on me. Although my gymnastics career as I knew it was not over just yet, it was delayed and set back for what felt like forever.

Summer of 2016, coming closer to my first year of high school preseason, I spent most of my days at a gymnastics-centered gym and worked out at Champions, where I struggled to gain all my strength and skills back from my injury, preparing for my high school season. Before I knew it, August came around the corner, then the very first day of preseason. Although it all had happened so fast, I was prepared because of my hard work and dedication. I was rather satisfied with my tryouts, and was lucky enough to make varsity as a freshmen. Preseason continued, I met a handful of new close friends from the team, and before any of us knew it, the first day of school came around, followed by the first meet of the season. Head coach had me on Varsity All-Around and I did rather well in my meets throughout the season. The school year consisted of a 7 hour school day, then high school practice until 5:00 pm; then right to Champions United practice from 6:00 to 9:00 PM. Sounds like a lot, right? That’s because it is. Not even including time to shower, eat and do homework. On meet days, we leave from school and depending on how far away it was we get home around 8:00 to 9:00 PM. Not even mentioning trying to balance a social life, grades, and family. To say exhausting, would be an understatement.

My Sophomore year of high school came around and not only was I exhausted, but overwhelmed as well. I had a really difficult time balancing keeping my grades up and getting to all my practices and hanging out with friends. My grades began to drop, and I started to kind of forget about school and focus more on friends and gymnastics. Even though my grades weren’t so great, I was doing really well in gymnastics and getting a lot better. However, with every good thing, there’s always a downfall. My grades began to catch up to me and my parents started giving me a hard time for it all, as any other concerned parent would. Together we decided that I would stop doing Champions Gymnastics for JOGA and just stick to high school gymnastics, for the sake of giving myself time to get my work done and study. I really missed going to my club gym and all the friends I met there, but it was for my best interest. I managed to get more studying time in and got my grades back up, but by this time the season was already over for the year. I still had two more years to redeem myself though.

Junior year came around and now that I wasn’t balancing two different practices, getting to my high school practices and getting all my work in worked out fairly well. However, when the season came around, I was completely and utterly out of shape. With a couple weeks of conditioning, ice baths and pulling a lot of different muscles, I pulled myself through and gained enough strength to get back my basic skills. I wasn’t as good as I had been though, and that frustrated me. Not being able to accomplish what I knew I could have before my injury was the worst. I fought through and did the best of my capability at the time being and made by for a while through the first couple meets. That is of course until I hurt myself again! Only this time, my back. It wasn't anything sudden either, apparently it was from over using it and putting the pressure in the wrong place. I was soon diagnosed with a fractured lower back, where they told me I would be out for about 10 weeks and would be doing physical therapy 8 of those weeks. What I said earlier about not being able to accomplish what I know I can, being the worst, yeah I lied. Having to sit out every meet and practice for 10 weeks during the season while watching your teammates doing all the stuff you wish you could do, but can’t, has to be the very worst. The 10 weeks eventually came to an end though, and when they did we had about 2 weeks of practice and 2 meets left of our season, Olympic Conference and Novice. So I did all I knew to do. Work my rear-end off and do the best of my capability for the rest of the season and finish strong. Coming back from injury was always a struggle, and it of course played a role in delaying my climb back to the top. I would almost lose my mind falling on my dismount off the balance beam. Then I would look up at the wall and see the quote next to the silhouette of the gymnast on the big banner, saying “Success is falling off the beam nine times and getting up ten,” reminding me to keep trying. Although my high school gymnastics coach, Mo, who also happens to be a math teacher, likes to argue that it would be nine times, “technically.”

Lastly, senior year came quicker than I ever hoped. My very last year of high school gymnastics. A few months ago I made the executive decision for myself that I wanted to go back to club gymnastics to get into shape for high school gymnastics and get better. So that’s exactly what I did. A few weeks before preseason, I started at a new gym, Jersey Jets Gymnastics, where I would practice during the school week Mondays and Wednesdays, and compete for their JOGA team, again as a level 4. By doing this, I had the pressure of balancing my school work, practices, work, and social life back on my plate, but I was confident it was what I wanted to do. It would be a challenge, but it would be worth it. So far now that school and the season has started up again, I am finally comfortable with my routine and even though it gets tough going straight from one practice to another, then meets on top of that, I get to do what I love constantly. My grades are doing good so far, and I know when things go downhill, if they go downhill, I have a whole family of teammates to help walk me through.

Why would anyone ever want to put themselves through any of this you ask? The pure love of the sport and all the great things that come with it. Although some practices are rough, there is always someone by your side supporting you through;, the good practices turn great when you celebratefor yourself, and your team. Life lessons about friendship, sportsmanship, and leadership are learned and you don’t even realize it. It just kind of becomes a habit. The teammates you see every single day for practice turn into lifelong friends and soul sisters, and your coaches become your role models and leaders. Not just in your four year high school career, but for a lifetime.