To hold one's body in place

Yesterday, I taught my oldest Level 4/5 to date. My dear twenty-two-year-old friend Beth and I went through the beam and floor routines in the grass. She just started/was thrown into coaching team and "needed to learn the routines from someone besides a seven-year-old." I pointed to the tree and the glass objects hanging from the line. "Those are the floor corners," I said.

"Can you press play?" she called to her father, who stepped into the jacuzzi and looked at us with amusement. Drizzle fell.

The last time Beth and I did floor routines was less successful. In college I made up her routine, including a minor dance move that I thought was simple. I was wrong. It ended up with me holding her head in place and Emeline nearby saying, "Look up NOW!"

At the end of yesterday's session, we both had dirt on our feet, grass on our shorts, and general confusion of left versus right. "At least you didn't have to hold my body in place this time," she said. A win, indeed.