Men’s gymnastics is not a sport of glamour, prestige, or recognition in South Carolina, but me being me, I begged my parents to sign me up. I participated in a rinky-dink gymnastics program at a local gym run by my city’s recreation department for roughly ten years of my life. My coaches were equivalent to second parents to me, and I competed with countless other gymnasts for those numerous years. However, as the years progressed, people came and went. New coaches would be hired, and old ones would leave or be fired. New teammates would join the program, and old ones would leave for college, move to Bahrain, switch gyms, or just plainly quit. In the middle of constant transition, there sat I. Every year, a team picture would be taken,
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Other teams at meets had boys that were half my height, with arms as large around as my giraffe neck, who possessed tenfold superior skill than me. I was the guy in all the competitions that always stood next to the podiums, barely ever on them. Gymnastics was never meant for towering, lanky, unathletic boys, but me being me, I did it anyway. However, amidst being preoccupied with other activities, I was drawn back to the sport. The city hired a brand-new coach who reached out to me about applying for a coaching position. I applied and went through the rather disorganized process of employment and received the position I currently work at now. As a junior assistant gymnastics coach, my hours are short, and my pay is low, but do it since I love it, correct? Despite all my experience, I possess no passion for coaching. It sucks the energy out of me, makes me get home late, and comes with its fill of dramatic coworkers who just can never seem to get along. However, gymnastics has taught me lessons I will carry with me continuously as I try and live them out daily. Foremost, strive to be perfect in an imperfect universe. One does not earn respect by getting good results. While an excellent outcome is helpful, it is the struggle for perfection
Other teams at meets had boys that were half my height, with arms as large around as my giraffe neck, who possessed tenfold superior skill than me. I was the guy in all the competitions that always stood next to the podiums, barely ever on them. Gymnastics was never meant for towering, lanky, unathletic boys, but me being me, I did it anyway. However, amidst being preoccupied with other activities, I was drawn back to the sport. The city hired a brand-new coach who reached out to me about applying for a coaching position. I applied and went through the rather disorganized process of employment and received the position I currently work at now. As a junior assistant gymnastics coach, my hours are short, and my pay is low, but do it since I love it, correct? Despite all my experience, I possess no passion for coaching. It sucks the energy out of me, makes me get home late, and comes with its fill of dramatic coworkers who just can never seem to get along. However, gymnastics has taught me lessons I will carry with me continuously as I try and live them out daily. Foremost, strive to be perfect in an imperfect universe. One does not earn respect by getting good results. While an excellent outcome is helpful, it is the struggle for perfection