Flip the plank

Balance beam, you light up my life.

I loved beam as soon as I started gymnastics, quite possibly because I recognized that everyone else hated it. Four inches wide, four feet off the ground--what's not to love? (Plenty, apparently). This is not to say that I love everything about beam. I lived (and live, when I prance on it now) in fear of straddling the thing. I've had my share of wipe-outs, fear, and more wipe-outs. But I always came back for more.

I'm also aware that my gymnasts are not the biggest fans of the apparatus. But they deal. They have no choice. My beam methods are not ground-breaking, but they work more successfully than with the other events: make ____ repetitions of ______ skill. For some ladies, this task takes five minutes. For others, it takes the entire time we're on beam.

"All right, Tia," I said one day. "If you make your first beam routine, you can frolic in the pit."

Tia's eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Her face sets. She moves through her beam routine without any flourishes, but few wobbles. Until the cartwheel. Her hands touch the beam. Her legs kick over her head. She lands. One leg flails up. Now everyone's watching. "GO, TIA!" someone calls.

And with a dramatic "NOOOOOOOO!" she falls to the ground.

But in competition, Tia's fierce. More often than not, she makes her entire routine. Same with Kathryn, Brittany, and Kasey. The routines may not be breathtaking and they sometimes wobble enough to equal the deductions for a fall, but they don't give in.

I remember those days. Level 8 State Championships, where I wobbled quite a few times but placed tenth on beam. NAIGC Nationals, ending my college career with a no-fall routine. The high school battle for the League 3 Championship, where the gym was absolutely silent and my teammates held hands during everyone's routines. My college coach would tell us that just staying on beam wasn't enough. But sometimes, it is.