Meet season creeps in like frost up a window in the night.
Thanksgiving marks the official end of denial. We are here again. The In Boxes fill with session times and travel info, updates, accounts due, corrections, and corrections on the corrections.
Most of the emails begin with: Dear Parents, If you haven't already.....
Last night leaving gym I watched the faces on the compulsory parents as Beach declared she has yet to do a complete run through of her bar routine.
It was utter disbelief against the backdrop of the neatly packaged one size fits all bunny slopes of compulsory routines. She competes in less than 3 weeks. And to most of them she is considered the gold standard.
What they don't realize is how different the weather is up in the mountains compared to the valley floor. At 8:07 PM in the doorway there isn't time to explain what is going on high up there on the tops of gym mountain. What the start of meet season is like for the Optional and their parents.
Compulsory sits at base camp enjoying the beauty of the mountain towering above them. Feeling dangerous by the lit fire but not knowing what really lies ahead.
Our level 6's stand with them but they about to leave. Their gaze is shifting, many for the first time, from the glory of the distant mountain top to the foot work of the rocky trail leading towards the snowy slopes of camp 2.
At camp 2, the 7 through 8's with their parents behind them packed like Sherpas, preparing their gear for another summit attempt. They are experienced in the mountains but they haven't seen anything yet.
The 9's and 10's already out in the storm push towards the summit. Their parents scattered along the altitude watching their progress through telescopes of varied powers and degrees.
Those girls of 9 and 10 have been out there all summer. Their only true shelter and rest is with each other.
Beach's path on the mountain: Yes, she has actually done her full bar routine because she competed it all last year. She took it to State, to Regionals, and to a little thing known as Westerns.
Growing that last inch or so caused her to have to deconstruct skills she has had on bars for years and relearn them. While she wasn't doing that, she was stuck on beam relearning all her split leg skills because of last year's injury. Then losing a bomb proof front aerial to a pulled muscle in her back and having to replace it with the trickier front kick over. Which with the help of a fall on an unprotected section of beam developed a semi permanent bruised heel sending her to tumble track with the injured for parts of beam, floor, and even vault.
This new body of hers is unproven on the high icy slopes of the judges.
Back at base camp, I don't want to be the one to break the news that out on that mountain skills are not permanent. That the back walkover or flick-flick on high beam. kip on high bar, they are not the biggest obstacles- growing is; physically and emotionally.
The higher they climb the more they can see of the world around them. The risks on the mountain grow. Distractions and injuries crash around them like avalanches. The falls are big. Even the "not" falls are big.
The rewards fade away into the distance. The air gets thin. They work with what they can hold onto. They work mostly hidden in the clouds of white chalk.
I have come back down to deliver a message. The message I write over and over again. My prayer flags for season.
Dear Parents, If you haven't already shown your daughter that you support her win, lose, or draw, it is almost too late.
This sport is not shallow. It is deep and it is towering. The fishers are real. Bodies and mind break out on the mountain even on sunny days. Kilometers are gained and lost. Storms come in like waves.
There are a thousand tiny flags planted along the way.
None of them are on a podium.
Few are witnessed by the judges.
Most of them aren't even in the gym. They are planted on the side of the road late night and early in the morning by sore muscles. They are like little prayers. Little blessings. Little tears. Little wins. All written on the fabric of big dreams.
Take time to see all the flags your daughter has planted along the way. Especial those she has staked right outside the gym doors. Those are strength flags. They flutter whispering the victory for each time she was too tired but went anyway, too scared but went anyway, each time, every day.
It is amazing when you think about. Every time she slips out the door of your car she is winning the day.
Dear Parents, If you haven't already asked your child what it is she really needs from you, you are running out of time.
The coaches are out there on the mountain and in the camps pushing and preparing. They tie and untie the safety lines. They adjust loads and make changes in the order on the rope lines.
What your child needs out on that mountain with her is the power of her team and the direction of her coaches. She needs her parents behind her supporting her as she climbs. This trail is single file the whole way up.
When parents get out in front they tend to cast emotional shadows back down on their own children. Their focus becomes the mountain top and they miss the value in making the journey. They miss witnessing their own child's story as it unfolds.
It's not always fun being behind her. I listen for the echos of my child as they bounce around icy walls and hotel halls. I can't always see her clearly through the snow. What I wouldn't sacrifice of myself to know everything about what she is going through... I am not immune to the lure.
And although I would never think of overshadowing her, there are times when I would love to be beside her. But in order to do that one of us would have to carry the other. I have seen what that looks like. It doesn't end well.
If your child is lucky she will get to have many good men and women take the role as her coach. She will also have many people paid to judge her. Even some unpaid will judge her. She doesn't need more judges, or more coaches. But she could always use more supporters in her camp.
Dear Parents, If you haven't already taken a step back, it is time to do that now.
It's time to hand your child the lead and let her go forward. It's time to load the supplies and get behind her and her team. If you are in doubt as to what that entails ask her coaches what you can/should do.
I tie my pray flags to my load. They dance in the winter air. I always hope she can feel them. I send out messages as I follow. Not all of them get delivered. They come out as a mother's steady hum into the night. Small gifts tucked inside a suitcase. Notes on napkins. The right brand of pretzels in the car. Ice packs returned to the freezer. Water bottles washed and dried. Leo's, leggings, and elastics.
I give her predictability in a landscape of unknown.
I say the same words each time: Have fun. Go to your people. I love watching you do gymnastics. I am so proud of you. And most important of all: what do you want on your hot dog?
One foot in front of the other, Team marches together with their coaches into the most beautiful storm. We stand at the foot of meet season. You never know what is going to happen out there in the wild. It might be her first. It might be her last. It might be the one she always remembers. It may be the one she wants to forget. Whatever it is, it will most defiantly become part of who is she.
What do you want her to remember about this time in her life?
What words of yours do you want her to carry in her heart?
After all the sweat and tears, the hours of hard work, the fear, the trust, the belief, the desire... if you could only send one message to your child would it really be point your toes?
Dear Parents, If you haven't already, you really should.
