Fear factor

I knew this would happen.

Natalie's worked back handsprings on beam since the summer. Her attempts have been successful. Until today, when her hands scatter in all directions, her arms buckle, and she falls on her face. She's on the low beam and therefore doesn't suffer the extra blow of straddling the beam. But she does manage to fall in the exact same way on the next attempt, which is kind of impressive. Lightning striking twice and all that.

There's a rise of "Ooh's" and Natalie already has the "Oh em gee I'm never doing that again" eyes. "Can I--?" she begins.

My hand on her back. "I'm spotting you. Go."

I was an expert at avoiding skills that frightened me. Because I worked hard and never annoyed my coaches, I could enjoy a certain leniency if I needed it. They'd roll their eyes when my teammates complained of soreness or pain. But if I asked to ice a body part, I could. No questions to test the validity of my pain.

I could also use "I'd really like to work on my routines for States" as an excuse to not practice new skills. And it worked. Every time. Which is strange because I can see through my girls every time they try a similar excuse, the way that I can see Natalie's working up a way to get out of back handsprings forever. It will be a battle, I already know. She'll make scared faces and complain and constantly offer to work on other skills. "You can practice those," I'll say, "but you also need to do back handsprings."

Maybe I needed more of that as an athlete.

I spot her now. She lives. She's still scared. But if I can find a way to help her push through, I will.