"Up next on the beam is No.7 of team Desert Devils," I heard the announcer saying. Raising my eyes to the crowd, I saw my family grinning, ready to watch the game. Quickly looking back to the judges, I waited for their salute. My stomach was filled with anxious butterflies. After the judges examined my stance, they gave me approval to begin. I slowly inhaled as I mounted the beam and suddenly I was skillfully and easily gliding across the narrow surface lost in my routine.

Gymnastics has consumed my life since I was five. Practicing 15 hours a week, the sport molded me into a hard-working, goal-setting child filled with aspirations. I never allow myself to give up easily no matter how hard it is. Then there was this particular stunt that for whatever reason I could not seem to master. I dreaded the front hip circle on the high bar. Even with my teammates encouraging me, I could never follow through with the final turn. Knowing that the state competition was just arond the corner, I realized I could cost my team the gold medal. Why can't I do this? I'm the only one who can't master this stunt. The way I saw it, I was a failure if I couldn't do what seemed impossible.