My Purpose – by Gregory Grattan
6/26/13
I think back to my days as a gymnast and I remember the smell of chalk on the events
(Floor Exercise, Pommel Horse, Rings, Vault, Parallel Bars and High Bar), my friends that made
me laugh while we endured the same pain, and I remember my coaches that I respected
unconditionally. I remember my friends who have all parted ways from each other and are now
gone from each other’s lives, never wanting to be reminded of those days as a gymnast. I
remember Max Glynn who I started out hating, because he was arrogant and effortlessly good at
gymnastics while I was humble and mediocre in comparison, but we came to be friends as time
progressed. I remember Matt H who had all the heart in the world and wanted nothing less but to
be a gymnast. Yet all the heart and training in the world could not help him become a great
gymnast; for he was physically unfit to be a gymnast with legs that were heavy and a gymnast
could not have heavy legs if they were to be great. I remember Garrett Parez who was the
definition of inspiration, for he had his leg broken while being streched, healed and came back to
the sport. Out of madness or pride I am still not sure which one, but he was my friend and I
always respected him for this. I remember Caleb, Josh Dixon, Jeremy and Sho who were all
gymnasts I respected and looked up too, yet somehow one by one they all fell. Jeremy started
doing drugs and stopped caring about his gymnastics. Caleb lost the will to be a gymnast as time
progressed. Josh Dixon who made it all the way to Stanford on a scholarship with gymnastics
and lost it all after he was found stealing from the school and Sho who made it to the Olympic
trials had given up everything for this dream and when he was not selected to go he was left with
nothing but regret. I never understood why any of it happened, these were my gymnastic idols,
the ones I looked up to while growing up, those that I looked to for guidance and those that I
dreamed of being had lain at my feet defeated by the sport and if they couldn’t do it how could I.
I had many coaches over the years, but the one who was with me through near my entire
journey in gymnastics and my most memorable coach was Jinjing Zhang. Jinjing was revered in
China, for he had been an Olympic silver medalist for China, World’s gold medalist and stopped
from a wrist injury. This was my number one idol from the time I was five years old. I will
always remember Jinjing and that is because if he was ever in my dreams it would be a
nightmare for he brought me more pain and suffering than I knew existed. Jinjing had been one
of the main sources of my depression throughout my life and singlehandedly caused me to doubt
my existence. It was he, when I was seven that made me cry for stretching me until I laid flat on
the ground with my legs straight out to the side, it was he that stretched me for hours with my
head in my knees and every time I began to cry it would make the pain that much worse. It was
Jinjing that had made me work until my body ached for weeks at a time and my hands had been
covered with blisters, which he then preceded to press with alcoholic swabs causing even more
unnecessary pain. It was Jinjing that could do no wrong and was always right no matter what had
happened or what the subject, because he was Jinjing and Jinjing is never wrong. Yet, all of the
pain and depression I endured, I had accepted gladly for it was all in the name of reaching my
dream and fulfilling my life’s purpose, to be a magnificent gymnast. For my coach, was Jinjing
Zhang and he could make me as great as himself, until I realized I didn’t want to be Jinjing. I
didn’t want to be cursed with knowing how to teach only with pain and with the ideals that if
someone does something wrong they must be physically punished by another or they will never
get better. I didn’t want to have to use fear to gain respect or loyalty from others.
It took one questionable teaching method and two terrifying injuries that made me
question my coach as a role model, leaving me with no purpose in life. These experiences made
me roam aimlessly to find a reason to keep on living. I think I’ll start with the training method
first because it had happened earliest. I can remember it as if it was yesterday and there was a
reason for that, it scared me beyond belief and made me fear my coach more than any pain death
could bring. The people training with me that day was Max Glynn, Matt H and myself. We were
going to the parallel bars, two eleven foot wooden bars that are parallel to one another and can be
adjusted to be anywhere from four feet to eight feet off the ground. We were working our
pirouettes that day. Think of pirouettes as if you are standing on two lines that have a width of
elbow down to your knuckles, and then you step both feet onto one line facing away from the
other line, and then you step back to the other line stepping behind you, now imagine doing that
same thing in a handstand on circular bars 6 feet above the ground, that’s a pirouette of parallel
bars.
I had just taken my turn and made my pirouette and now it was Max’s turn, but Max had
never completed his pirouette. When Max went he would usually get the turn done but he would
overturn and not be able to come back to the middle of parallel bars, so he would jump off. He
did this about 7 times until Jinjing had become infuriated and made one of the most questionable
coaching methods I have ever seen. He took an old spring board which we use for the vault
exercise and set it upside down next to the parallel bars where Max was landing when he jumped
off the bar. The spring board laid upside down revealing 3 hard metal boards separated by four
inches of space, this was instead of the usual carpet covered wood that the spring boards usually
have. It was after he set the board down and told Max to go that made me worried for if a person
was to fall the 6 feet from the bar to that board they would severely hurt themselves and any
future of them as a gymnast would be over. This teaching method was basically saying hit the
bar, hit the board or make the skill. Max was terrified of doing the skill with a board right where
he just landed but he went on the bar any ways for he was far more terrified of the idea of what
Jinjing would do if he didn’t do the skill. He did the pirouette and he overturned it again and this
time there was a spring board there, but he pulled himself out of the way just enough to avoid the
board. It was at this moment Jinjing got another springboard and put it where he landed that time
and it was almost like Déjà vu as he told Max to go again.
I still remember the look of fear in his eyes as he walked up to those bars, I remember
seeing him trembling before grabbing the bars but what put it over the top was the fact I saw him
sweating. This scared me for it was about 70 degrees in the gym, and I remember that because I
was wearing a sweatshirt, and I was cold, yet Max was up there with a tee shirt, sweating. He
went up the his handstand and started his pirouette and it looked like he might make it this time,
but he still overturned. He overturned less but he still overturned and I was really scared because
I thought I was about to see a man break his foot right in front of my face. However, he didn’t let
go of the bars this time and so instead of jumping off he slammed his legs into the bars with
enough force to make an echo through the gym. I could only imagine the pain he was in. He
hobbled over to the mat we were sitting on to wait for our turn and he sat down with us and that
is when Jinjing smiled. He was happy Max had learned to hold on to the bar but I couldn’t help
think, there should have been an easier way, one where Max didn’t have to decide probably
breaking his leg or his foot. I didn’t understand it and as of today I still don’t. It was at this
moment that I realized there were many ways to learn a skill and I found Jinjing didn’t always
have the best way but he only had his way. It was the first time I thought that Jinjing may have
been a great gymnast but this did not mean he was just as good and understanding when it came
to teaching.
The first injury that made me question my coach was when I had made a mistake while
training and I had accidentally rolled off stacked mats that totaled about a 6 foot drop and fell
directly on my head on an unmated area in the gym. I had landed flat on my head on concrete. I
can still remember the feeling as the shock wave of pain went through my body and I found
myself unable to move. As my body came to rest I found myself unable to move, but instead all I
did was feel a constant pain. As I lay there I saw my “friends” who had seen me fall standing
there, laughing at me, thinking it was humorous and “okay”, but they did not fall, they did not hit
their heads on concrete, I did. I lay there for what felt like hours, it was only seconds to them,
unable to move. I was forced to watch, as I lay in pain, my teammates taking pleasure in my
suffering. I slowly began to regain my senses and my body began to move. I worked my way
onto all fours and it was at this point that I saw my friend Garrett coming over to see if I had
been okay, but the time had come and passed. I then slowly got to my feet and a feeling of
helplessness sunk in as if all my strength had been zapped from my body in one fell swoop. I was
able to move, yet the feeling of being trapped and restrained by the paralysis stayed. I turned to
my coach Jinjing for comfort, but what I saw was not concern; instead, he carried a look of
frustration. He had been frustrated for I had not completed the skill I was working on. I was
astounded by the lack of concern showed to me by all that stood there. I found later that day that
he had been told to cover the spot of cement that I fell on minutes before the incident and he had
not done it for his sense of arrogance was far greater than his sense of logic. It was this moment
that made me question my coach and think he is not perfect and that maybe he is not the idol I
should have. It was this moment that made me question gymnastics as being my future for how
could I hope to be someone who would watch a person get hurt due to their own mistake and
then be upset for them not completing the skill. This was the moment I decided I didn’t want to
be like my coach.
The last incident that broke my spirit and faith in my coach was when I had jammed my
rotator cuff while landing badly on a giant back flip on the high bar, which is basically rotating
around the bar one complete revolution and then letting go to do a back flip off. I remember the
fear and anxiousness I had when approaching the high bar for I never did the skill. I listened to
my coach and even after failing a few times before and getting the wind knocked out of me I got
back up and tried again because this was the process of learning gymnastics. Finally, it
happened, I was coming down from my backflip and I can still at this very moment remember
the feeling as my feet skimmed the ground and I fell back putting weight on my arm which left
my one arm completely immobilized and in incredible pain. I had begun to sigh my pain with a
“Ah” here and a “my arm” there but my coach just looked at me and said harshly “GET UP
AND GO AGAIN”. I was moved only by fear and the only thing that went through my head was
“I must go again”. I got on the bar and immediately felt my arm giving way as if it hadn’t been
there at all, but the second I hopped down from the bar I was greeted by my coach screaming
“WHICH ONE ARE YOU MORE AFRAID OF ME OR THE BAR”. I feared not the bar but I
knew the pain that would follow if I tried once more to do the skill. As I found myself
overcoming the pain with fear I got back on the event and tried the skill a total of eight more
times, practically with only one arm, until my coach had been satisfied and I could stop. It was
then that he told me I was fine and to stop complaining and so I did. However, I knew deep down
that he was wrong and that my pain would not stop and this was a mistake, for I was not fine, I
was in excruciating pain. I managed a week without my mom finding out what had happened at
gymnastics practice until she saw me struggling to get my shirt on and off because I couldn’t use
one arm. It was at this moment that she brought me to the doctor’s office to get a second opinion.
The doctor took x-rays and he tested my arm thoroughly until my arm had been moved every
way possible. The doctor found that my rotator cuff had been jammed and told me to not use my
arm for two to three weeks, followed by a few sessions of physical therapy if I was going to heal.
I went to my coach and told him that I was hurt and he looked at me and gave me that same look
of disappointment and frustration that I had seen so many times before. This was the moment I
saw that I couldn’t do this anymore. This was the moment that I found myself looking toward the
future and not seeing gymnastics but instead a darker, lonelier nothing for I was now without
purpose and with no future. It was then that I started seeing myself as a waste of space and a
useless tool that could simply be replaced at the slightest sign of ware damage. I convinced
myself that my life was pointless and that if I died at that moment no one would ever think twice
about what had become of me.
I continued to train and develop aimlessly knowing that I could not continue for
gymnastics was no longer my future, I had no future. I looked for a purpose and a life to move
onto outside of gymnastics and this was when I reached the pinnacle of my depression in my life.
Imagine having your entire life dedicated to something and then all of that time, blood, sweat and
tears were for nothing. It was then that I searched for a purpose trying to play music, write, and
make art, but even after a few years nothing had changed and I still lay without purpose and no
future. It was at that moment that I thought to myself that without my future, I still had one thing
in my life and that was the present. I discovered this truth my senior year of high school and I
knew that I found what I must do with my life and I saw my future was clear as daylight right in
front of me and all I need do is take it. I found my life would continue and that I would be able to
find my future if I just kept living in the present and doing everything the best I could. It was
then that I found gymnastics was not all of my life, but only a small piece of it. I had discovered
my purpose was not to live to be a gymnast, but instead my purpose was to live to be me, and no
matter what happens I had a future and I had a purpose, but neither of these are set in stone and
so I must keep moving forward to find them. I was no longer Greg the gymnast, but I was now
Greg the student, Greg the friend and I found that nothing mattered as long as I stayed being
Greg and that that was my future.
I quit gymnastics for good and I began thinking of my future again. Time passed and I
graduated from high school and started college at West Valley. I joined the football team and I
found myself truly happy, which was something I had not been for quite a while. I learned how
to think of things other than gymnastics and to enjoy life for being life. My sadness and pain had
faded and I found my dreams were of different things from school, to football, and all aspects of
my life. I found the purpose that I needed to live was just the idea of living.