Poker face

Gymnasts learn not to break. Smile for the judges but don't you dare let them see you cry. Commentators and reporters refer U.S. national champion Rebecca Bross's intensity in competition as though this is something new. I can think of few gymnasts who emote genuinely in competition.

What about their coaches?

"I don't need to watch the routines," my dad said when I competed in college. "All I have to do is look at your coach's face to know what's going on."

Gymnastics has famously excitable coaches: Who can forget Bela Karolyi's "you can do it" as Keri Strug prepared for her second vault at the 1996 Olympics? On the men's side, Yin Alvarez has the penchant to go berserk after his son's routines.

When do you turn it off? When should you?

During the college years, which were wracked by the expected dramas of 18-to-22-year-old life, our coach often sat us down to say, "Keep it out of the gym. Leave it at the door."

I believe in modeling behavior for one's athletes and students, and I think all of my coaches were guilty at some point for bringing "it" into the gym. Bad break-ups, pettiness with co-workers, depression and anger. We knew it, even if it was never stated overtly. The youngest kids felt it. Something was off in our small universe no matter how hard we tried to do well.

When I was a senior in high school, I parked at the gym before work and checked my voicemail. Anyone who knows me knows that I tend to neglect said mailbox. But I listened this day to a voicemail in which the dude I was dating broke up with me. I called him back and tears and "but can't we just talk about this in person?" ensued. Then it was time to teach preschoolers.

"What happened to your eyes?" asked a plump girl with pigtails.

"Allergies," I said. "Let's do forward rolls."