Three Minutes, Five Seconds

This entire experience has been a whirlwind of emotion from the minute I set foot in the gym hall. Seeing the Canadian flag in the gym for the first time set my heart racing. Marching in for the opening ceremonies made me cry. Seeing the level of skill and mastery that the other competitors have on the wheel is both mesmerizing and breathtaking.

But looming over all these happy squishy feelings of joy and good times is the harsh reality that I need to go out on that floor and compete against these wheel gods.

Me.

The random Canadian who learned wheel through circus and hasn’t had a coach in three years.

Me.

The ill prepared acrobat who ran her routine three times before coming to Worlds and chose to perform a dismount that she hasn’t done in two years.

Me.

I went out onto the floor. My name and country were announced and everyone cheered. My music started and I was officially competing at Worlds.



I would just like to take a moment to note that I was the 21^st competitor to pass the straight line event. The men and women’s competitions run simultaneously and the men’s meet had already concluded before it was even my turn to go. All that amounts to some serious jitter building time.

Needless to say, I was nervous. I’m finally starting to better handle my nerves during a show, but this ain’t no show. In a show, mistakes can be covered up and no one really cares if you fall a little or bend your needs to make a trick work. And seriously, these women really are unbelievable. One look at them and I want to pack my bags and head to the door!

But I did it. Not nearly as well as I would have hoped, and not nearly as well as I know I am able to do. I was shaky and my feet were all over the place. Because of my nerves, I wasn’t nearly as tight as I could have been. My major mistakes, I’d say, were in the transitions because I hadn’t really practiced them. I messed up the hanging bridge but covered it up like a champ. In fact, I covered all my mistakes brilliantly. No one else there could have sold their errors as choreography the way I did. Thanks circus! When all else failed, I performed. And the crowd loved it.

All my other tricks went off without a hitch. Well, the double forward roll was late. I don’t think the real gymnasts would have gone for it, but sure as hell wasn’t going to mess up another move! My triple was gorgeous and received some nice applause. Not because I’m the only one to do it, but because my wheel is so small and I have to go so fast in order to pull it off. I think most people were surprised I could make it.

And the flying line? My “D” move? Well… let me put it this way: there were only two people to perform that feat in the competition. Me, and the previous World Champion in the straight line event!

Feel free to be impressed.

I may not have scored terribly well, but I showed the world of wheel gymnastics that this random Canadian can at least compete on the same level as them! With innovation and pizzazz no less!

I came 25th in straight lines out of 31 women. I would have placed higher but accidentally touched my foot to the floor (a 0.8 point deduction) and finished just after the music (a 0.2 point deduction). Plus, being a complete and total unknown, they’re not about to bust out anything terribly generous. I did, however, have full points for my difficulty start value.

I admit that I cried afterward. I was really disappointed. I know I could have done so much better. A former World Champion came up to me afterward, hugged me, and told me that I did really well, especially for my first competition ever. It only lasted for three minutes and five seconds, but without a doubt, it was one of the most incredible moments of my life.