by Lucia Franco
My brows shot up. "What makes you so sure?"
Some of the gymnasts were already granted entry based on other qualifying requirements that I hadn't been able to meet at previous meets. That made the entry margin even smaller for me.
"I have been keeping track. I firmly believe you will secure a spot."
It was all Kova said. Like he was so sure of it and I had to accept what he said.
I was at a loss for words and smiled to myself. I was so giddy inside I couldn't stop smiling. Shrugging, I said, "Sweet."
After my grips were on and tightened, Kova and I warmed up on bars, loosely running through the routine and practicing some release skills. A few handstands and pirouettes, then my dismount. A couple of quick pointers, Kova reminded me not to overthink and just let my body do what it was made to.
"Let gymnastics live with you," he whispered from behind me.
I didn't move. I just nodded my head. We both knew what those words meant.
Be still my sick heart and listen to him already.
Within five minutes, I was standing in front of the low bar preparing to mount it. This would be the last time I would compete wearing a red, white, and blue leotard, and the final time I’d compete at the Olympics. Kova was right—I was going to let gymnastics live with me in my final performance.
Drawing in a deep breath, I looked over at Kova who stood to the side of the apparatus prepared to step in and spot me like we’d agreed. I was the last one to compete now. Team USA was teetering back and forth between gold and silver, only a tenth of a point away from slipping into silver again. I would either lead us to victory or we'd become first place loser, as Kova had put it once and Danilo had reiterated the last time I was at World Cup.
Funny how I didn't feel like a first place loser anymore like I once had. Not after the struggle I was forced to bear this past year.
"You got this," Kova said, focusing solely on me. "Do not think, just feel," he said, using his hands.
I exhaled and felt the crowd's enthusiasm around me. I used what they were giving as my reason to be strong and help my team take home gold. I had this.
My teammates cheered my name from the sidelines where they stood, just like we had for each one before me. I chalked up one final time on my palms, thighs and feet, and then, I saluted the judges.
One minute and thirty seconds, and it would all be over.
My hands reached for the low bar, my hips swinging forward into a kip cast to a handstand. I stuck it for a second with my hips flat and toes pointed, then swung down into a back hip circle straight to a handstand again. I did this once more then brought my body down and around the bar for a second time. At the angle I'd been trained to release the bar, I did. The bar ricocheted as I reached for the high bar and swung up to a handstand. Switching my grip so it faced backwards for added difficulty points, I fell forward into a full giant and closed my eyes, feeling the wind against my cheeks and tasting the chalk in the air. I knew Kova would be standing right to the side ready to spot as I completed another pirouette holding my body stone still.
I swung down into a giant to gain momentum as Kova stepped closer. Tapping at the right timing, I hollowed out my chest and swung my body around, bringing my hips parallel to the bar and then whipping them as hard as I could into the air as I released the bar at the same time to fly backwards and over it in a pike position. Kova's arms went up as my body came down. I gripped the bar with all my might and moved swiftly into another release skill that we'd worked hard on. Nothing mattered but this routine and the way I felt as I soared through the air from bar to bar like a snowflake delicately drifting in the wind. My heart was on display, my undying love for bars and this sport, it was all there as I performed my routine. I did a total of three releases back-to-back when Kova stepped down and let me do my thing for a couple of seconds until he was standing there again, this time gearing up for my dismount.
I took a quick breath. This was it.
Licking my lips, I spotted the landing mat that had clouds of chalk on it.
My mind went back to my first day at World Cup.
To the excitement and hunger for this moment.
To the pain.
To the anger.
To the betrayal.
It all lead to right now.
My fingers tightened around the bar. Stuck handstands with flat hips and pointed toes, I could vaguely hear the exploding crowd as I circled the bar two and a half times gearing up for my dismount.
And then…
I let go.
Thirty-Five
The sudden silence from the crowd was thrilling. It was as if they held their breath with me. Slowly, like in slow motion, they came into view with every rotation and twist. They stood motionless as I squeezed my body and completed my last half twist. My heart spiraled as I descended and spotted the ground.
Feet together and knees slightly bent, I extended my arms in front of me and closed my eyes, knowing immediately how this would end.
Chalk floated up around my ankles as I squeezed every muscle to stick my dismount. The crowd erupted, breaking the quiet. I opened my eyes and raised my arms to salute the judges twice. My chest rose into the air as I dragged in a ragged breath, and I turned toward my team with a massive smile splayed across my face.
I knew in my heart that we had done it.
All three girls were waiting for me, jumping and chanting as I ran toward them with open arms. I was enveloped in group hugs and happy tears.
The four of us spoke at the same time, and we giggled.
"Do you think it's enough?"
"I'm going to be sick."
"What’s taking so long?"
Our questions and worries flew out of our mouths. We were currently holding first, but only by a thread. If I was given the full points for difficulty, my score would make it almost impossible for another team to beat us.
Tears streamed down my cheeks, and I held my breath, waiting, praying that we wouldn't get bumped to second. My score lit up the screen and my jaw dropped. Shock rendered me immobile.
I couldn't move. I was stunned, unable to do anything but stare and feel the chills wrack my arms. The fans exploded in a wild frenzy, and that got me in motion. My teammates and I hugged each other as happy tears fell down our cheeks. We were in a state of disbelief and total shock. Of course, we'd hoped and dreamed, but never imagined it would actually happen. It was absolute mania where we stood. The screen changed to show the current standings.
I blinked, and blinked, and blinked.
My jaw plummeted to the floor.
Team USA was in first place by a full three points now.
I looked around frantically, unable to control the abundance of feeling rushing through me. Happiness. Disbelief. Shock. My heart was in my throat. Cameras were everywhere. Their flashes reminded me of fireworks as excitement in the arena spread. There were still gymnasts who hadn't competed yet. The remaining teams were now fighting for silver and bronze, and they were aware of it. No team would be able to take the gold from USA.
I always thought the girls looked a little maniacal on television when they realized they'd won. Now I got it. This moment was worth every ounce of heartache I'd gone through. Whether it was from those I loved or due to my health, it was worth it.
I'd wanted this my whole life.
Gold. Team USA would win gold. I would win gold.
I held my chest. This wasn’t real. It was too good to be true. I tried to catch my breath and slow down my heartbeat when someone pulled me into a hug.
I didn't have to guess who it was. I knew the moment his hand touched me.
A smile spread across my lips. I threw my arms around his shoulders and jumped into him. My feet kicked up behind me as he snuggled me to his chest and hugged me tight. His happiness surrounded me.
Being in Kova's arms while Team USA took home gold was how it was meant to be.
My arms tightened around his shoulders, and my heart pounded so hard I was s
ure he could feel it against his chest. No one thought I'd make it this far, but he did. Reluctant at first, Kova was the only one who thought I had a fighting chance if I put the work into it. And I had.
My tears continued to flow as I cried in the curve of his shoulder. This moment was more than just winning gold.
"Congratulations, Adrianna," Kova whispered in my ear.
I clenched my eyes shut. Normally I'd step from his arms so bystanders didn't give us nosy stares, but I didn't care who saw us this time. This was something I never wanted to forget. I wanted to remember how this moment felt for me, Kova, and us. Plus, we were at the freaking Olympics! No one was going to say anything, especially when we looked just like other coaches and gymnasts.
"Is it real?" My voice shook as I asked. I didn't want to look and see that I'd made it up in my head.
Kova chuckled under his breath. "It is real, Malysh. Team gold, and you move onto the all-around tomorrow with the highest vault and bars scores of the Olympics. I think you will take floor too tomorrow."
My head popped up and I looked at him. I probably looked a little crazy with how wide my eyes were.
All I could do was respond with a dropped jaw.
Kova nodded, his gaze falling to my mouth then back to my eyes. He released me, but neither one of us moved. We were so close we were still touching.
"You did it," he said. There was a soft smile behind his eyes. "Even when the world was against you, you showed them how resilient you are. That is bravery not many are granted with. It is one of the things I love about you, you know. You are steadfast in the pursuit of your dream. You are so much stronger than you realize. Your willpower makes me look weak, but I aspire to have the heart and drive you do one day. I hope you are proud of what you have accomplished. I know I am."
I blushed. Kova made me sound like such a strong person, but I was only as strong as those I surrounded myself with. He was my strength. He was the reason I pushed myself so hard. He pushed me to push myself because he knew I could handle it. He loved the adrenaline and so did I. He evoked motivation in me and made me want to be a better gymnast and human. I had learned a lot from him in these few years I'd been at World Cup, and probably even more than I realized until years from now when I look back on my experience.
Kova made me the best version of me, the elite gymnast I only ever wanted to be. He dedicated countless hours of selflessness and coaching because he believed in me.
"Where do you think I learned it from? It’s a reflection of you."
His eyes softened. "Get dressed. We have to go."
Nodding, I turned around and went to my duffle bag. I quickly pulled on my sweat suit and strung my bag over my shoulder. I sped up to rejoin my team, and Coach Elena and the entire U.S. Olympic Committee held their hands out over the railing again. I slapped them all with a giant smile on my face, grateful that they also believed in me enough to give me this chance.
Most days I was my own worst enemy because I knew what I was capable of in my heart. When I didn't meet my own expectations, I beat myself up. It was an incredible feeling to see that I had people supporting me all along.
"In third place, winning the bronze medal…"
The crowd gave a vivacious round of applause. Third place at the Olympics was a huge accomplishment, but I knew those girls felt defeated inside and my heart cried out to them.
Second place was announced next, and my pulse skyrocketed as I awaited our turn. My knees shook and happy tears climbed my eyes for the millionth time. I was an emotional mess. Every time I dried my tears they started right back up.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said, his voice booming through the speakers, "please welcome your Olympic gold medalists, Team USA."
I stepped up onto the center platform with my team and waved toward the crowd. Chants of "USA! USA!" came from the stands. My jaw trembled as an abundance of happiness filled me. I couldn't stop smiling.
A woman came forward holding an open box with four shiny gold medals. They lay flat with the multi-colored ribbon folded underneath. They were brighter close up and beautifully engraved with an image of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory. The woman was met by a member of the International Olympic Committee who reached for the first medal then draped it over my teammate’s neck as the announcer called her name.
"Adrianna Rossi."
I sniffled when my name was announced next. The IOC member lifted a medal and I bent at my waist. Carefully, she adorned my neck with the surprisingly heavy accolade.
"Thank you," I whispered.
I straightened and stood tall, drawing in a deep breath and exhaling. Glancing down my stomach, I picked up the award and held it in my palm. I had the strongest urge to take a bite. It reminded me of a gold wrapped chocolate coin I got one Easter.
Of course, I didn't bite it. I'd do that in private.
I gave it a little toss to feel the weight in my hand. I'd given up so much of myself for this, and it was so worth it.
After the last medal was placed around my teammate’s neck, another member of the Olympic committee came forward to hand us small bouquets custom to Greece. Bushy olive branches cupped the beautifully bloomed orange, red, and yellow flowers. I smiled down at the bouquet then bent my knees to receive the laurel wreath on the crown of my head. The interlocking olive branches represented victory, power, and glory. I was proud to wear it.
I searched for Kova, but he was lost in the sea of faces. Then the three flags representing the medaling countries rose high in the air, and "The Star-Spangled Banner" began to fill the room.
My eyes glistened at the sight of the flags. I was in awe. I couldn't tear my gaze away. This night was emotional on so many levels. Everything I’d worked hard for was all for this moment in time that would live with me for the rest of my life. Being in a room surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people who loved this sport just as much as I did was no better feeling in the world. These were my people.
I peered down at the medal again and held it closer wondering if I’d feel the same way if we hadn’t medaled. I realized I would because it wasn't about winning. It was about the journey and the drive to achieve my dream. My determination had completely overtaken every molecule of air in my body, making the chase worthwhile.
A soft smile moved my lips. I wasn't going to lie to myself anymore. I was going to be open and honest with myself and accept what I couldn't change.
I looked up at the American flag and stared. I was proud of myself. I didn't feel like there was a crushing pressure on my chest anymore, or this need to improve myself all the time. There was freedom that came with this moment. I was free from the restraints of myself.
Standing underneath the gleaming lights, I felt different. Older, newer. On the mend. I felt that after today, I could take on anything my future held.
Gymnastics made me strong. It made me brave, and if I really let myself think about it, gymnastics prepared me for the next phase of my life by pushing me to fight for something I really wanted. It gave me strength.
I thought I'd be bursting with joy standing on this podium, but what I felt more than anything was a sense of relief.
I could breathe again.
As the anthem drew to an end, we raised our flowers in the air to give one final salute. I smiled as rainbow colored confetti shot from the high corners of the room and balloons fell upon us like fresh snow.
Thirty-Six
After the Team USA celebratory dinner last night, I didn't get to talk to my family for more than a few minutes before I was ushered to the village for therapy, then sent back to my room to decompress and prepare for today. I’d stuck to the same schedule of eating and meds, hoping to relive what I did yesterday.
Not even twenty-four hours later and it was a totally different sporting event.
Inhaling a deep breath, I looked down at the leotard I was allowed to design myself for this competition in preparation of making it this far. Every gymnast did. Over two thousand jade Swar
ovski crystals in several sizes were attached to the deep mahogany material in fiery flames, overlapping each other. It was a color I didn’t typically wear.
Yesterday I was decorated in stars and stripes that represented independence and freedom. It took two years for that design to mature at the imagination of Coach Elena, all for one day of glory.
But today's leotard was by far my favorite for two reasons. The base was a color that complemented my dark red hair and sun-kissed dusting of freckles on the bridge of my nose. The green was for Kova's eyes, a color most redheads just so happened to wear too.
Intertwining colors. Strength in darkness.
I smoothed my hands down the front, my palms catching the three-dimensional stones. He didn't know what I’d done, and I wasn't sure if I was going to tell him.
I glanced at Kova standing next to me. He seemed focused. Almost too focused. My eyes raked down his body. He was dressed similarly to yesterday, only this time he wore a black polo shirt with his dress pants. The shirt strained around his biceps. I moved my eyes upward and found Kova still deep in thought.
I bit my lip, then said, "Where's my pep talk?"
He didn't hear me, so I gently backhanded his arm. He jumped and glanced at me with confusion.
"What is wrong with you?" he asked.
I almost laughed because he was genuinely confused. "Did you hear what I said? Any last-minute pointers?" I paused. Now I was worried. "Are you okay?"
He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned his body toward me. "There is nothing wrong, I am sorry. I was focused on trying to read Coach Elena's lips. There are no last-minute pointers today."
I looked over at her. She was waving frantically, trying to get his attention. I tapped him and lifted my chin in her direction. He glanced her way and nodded, then held up one finger.
"How come you're not saying anything positive today?" Kova smiled at me, and I continued, "It's almost like tradition for us. I'm trying to recreate my past meets. I’m feeling a little superstitious I guess…"
