"The Routine" by Ruby Beane

Image by CarolynBeekhuis from Pixabay

“Ruby!” the judge says.

I step onto the spring-floor and feel the familiar sensation of the short blue carpet between my toes; soft, yet scratchy at the same time. I take a deep breath, but I cannot seem to calm down. I'm so nervous that all I can hear is my heart beating fast in my ears, drowning out all the other noises in the gym. My hands shake as I salute the judge and try to reassure myself that it will be okay.  No success there. I sit down on the floor and get into my starting pose, trying to pretend that I am fine and pasting on the fakest smile ever. The music starts and I take another deep, shaky, nervous breath.

Here I go!

I start my routine but my legs feel like Jell-O, weak and wobbly. Eyes stare down at me from all directions, like I am on display in some department store window. I feel, well, I feel like I might just explode if I get any more nervous, but I don't have to worry about that because I don’t think it is possible to be more nervous than this. Full turn, step back, pose, I have done it a thousand times. Yet it feels foreign to me right now. Like my body is going, doing it, but my mind is lost in another dimension. My tumbling pass is next. Fear rushes over me so strongly that it clenches my jaw tight and makes me want to scream.

Thump, thump, thump, my feet pound against the floor as I run across it. All I can think is, Be powerful. Be powerful. My arms go up, I hurdle, plant my feet, and drive my heels over my head as fast as I can. The people, the mats, the beams, everything around me turns into a colorful blur. I am moving so quickly that my stomach turns and twists into knots and my head pounds.

The next thing I know I am falling.

Time stops dead in its tracks, and I can't help thinking about all those eyes that are watching me, judging me. I don’t know what went wrong. Thoughts flood my brain and eat at it from the inside out. My hands hit the floor first, then my knees thud down with all the weight of my body on top of them.

I try not to cry but I can't help it. Tears run thick and salty down my cheeks. I am not hurt, just upset, which can be so much worse. All I want to do is run off the floor and out of the building to some place where there are no people, no pressure, no judges. But I can't do that, I know I can't. I know I am trapped and that I have to finish my routine. I think about what comes next, try to clear my mind, try to forget about what just happened and pretend it never did.

I look over at my coach. Confidence finally comes and cradles me in its warm embrace telling me that I will be okay. I step forward with my right foot and pivot around so I am facing the beams. The other teams sit on the non-competition floor. They are arranged in little groups and they chat and whisper with one another as though what they are saying is the most important thing in the world. I pivot again, pose, then do my leap pass.

Thump, thump, thump, I am running again, feet pounding against the floor, toes gripping into the blue foam-like padding. Everything rushes by again, turning into blobs of blue, red, and yellow. I punch off the floor and into the air. For a second I am flying, not falling, not thinking, not worrying, forgetting about what happened before. My feet hit the floor with thud.

 I did it! I’m done, it’s finally over.

I look around at the eyes that had, before, been tormenting me with their seemingly devious glares and they no longer seem that bad. I smile, a real one this time.

Ruby Beane is 13 years old; she lives in Orono, Maine, and attends Orono Middle School. Ruby loves to run and is on her school’s cross-country team, she has a pet Chinchilla named Kiwi, and she competes in gymnastics.