Zara on: what magic really is...

more of the main characters/plot in my (twisted?) completely-fantasy world--
but absolutely nothing to do w/ spanking.
(and not posted on SIN)
~~~~~~~~~~


Being named to the TOPs (Talent Opportunity Program) National Team is a big deal.
I guess.

The USAG does all this testing across the country of "basic" skills and physical ability/conditioning.
The goal is to identify, and develop, young athletes, 7-11 years old, who show the most potential to reach the elite level.
Ok, cool.

However, the 'powers-that-be' it seems are not my biggest fans currently.
Well horsepucky and cookiefeathers.

I went through all the testing and stuff when I was 9, and was ultimately named to the national team.
That meant I got to go to my first national training camp in Texas--at the all-hallowed *ahem* Karolyi ranch.
Marta and Bela themselves did a lot of lurking around.
I think I was supposed to be all impressed and in awe?
Ignorant of their, most spectacularly HIS, long established history of treating athletes--athletes who could just as easily be me--like dime-a-dozen commodities??
Young yes, a moron no.
Oops.

Still, there were plenty of others I highly respected.
I got to know a lot of really cool girls I've competed against for years.
It was an all-around blast and definitely gave me an added motivational boost.
I was apparently even deemed a "favorite" of many of the TOPs coaches and officials and such.
Expected to "fast track" it to junior elite, envisioned as a future "star."

That was 4 years ago and I was a level 8 at the time.
Now I'm 13 and a level 9.
They are not impressed with my progress...

~~~~~

Well, lets see--
About 4 months after that first December training camp, I competed in and won my first regional championship.

My weight loss was "already visually apparent" at this time mind you, but that of course is of little consequence...
and never mind why I might have wished to eradicate myself from the planet...

5 months later, I was in a residential E.D. program.

With 1/2 of that season already over by the time I was even allowed to start training again,
I did manage to regain enough of my strength and skills to compete at my second level 8 regionals.
And I won again.
But, oh horror, did I say my second, level eight?

But, but--
next year, I won my first Level 9 Eastern championship as a Junior A!?!

Then, wellll, you see, a week or so later, when I was just starting to train for my level 10 debut that fall...

oh darn, capo uncle whacked sotto capo daddy in my living room.
I got a little shook up ya see, being I was hiding in an upstairs closet and listening through the vent and...

I kinda lost my mind and half my body weight.

I know, I know, really must toughen up, be a good little robot soldier.

And I tried, I tried sooo hard, and I got everything back and more even.
But that mean old Jax vetoed my going level 10 this year.
Just because it was a minor miracle my body hadn't permanently collapsed or some such thing, said that might be "pushing" it.

[Cagna wouldn't let me skip another grade in school either, can you believe it?
Something about my inability to distinguish between working hard and working to near-fatal-exhaustion?
Oh wait, academics are an irksome little distraction anyway, silly me...]

So I had to settle for an undefeated season as a lowly level 9:
1 international and 5 national invitationals; states, regionals; and another Eastern Nationals title.

*bows head in shame*

~~~~~

Short version--
Are you fucking KIDDING me?!?
-OR-
I'm sorry--did I ASK your motherfuckin opinion?


The whole elite deal didn't electrify then any more than it does now.
It's not even on my radar screen and never has been.
When I've dreamed of my "magic moment":
I'm wearing a UCLA uniform, competing in the Super Six at the NCAA championships...

As ambitious and competitive as I am, international acclaim is just not something I've ever felt a compelling drive towards.

I'm told this is abnormal.
Isn't it every "little girls" dream to be the "next Mary Lou"?
Some socmel like that.

I mean, maybe...
someday...

If (when? ok, yes m'am, jax m'am, when) the rest of my life is, a bit more stable,
when I feel secure and centered and capable of making that sort of commitment, making it priority...
while actually maintaining some semblance of *gasp* balance...

(More) Truth?
The very idea terrifies me.
Not athletically, not the competitive pressure.
But the inevitable accompanying attention in and of itself.

I know that probably sounds odd coming from me, who draws attention like honey does bees.
After all, I am the pent-ultimate attention whore, no?

But I don't do it on purpose.
Good goddess, I swear I don't.

And I really, especially, do not "get it"--
Che cazzo do people find so damn fascinating anyway?

It's like I am that car wreck you can't help but look at...

---

The Junior B's (12+13 yr olds age group) was the second of the day's three sessions being held at Wesleyan College in Virginia Beach.

I had just finished stretching and was walking over with Lauren to the timed warm-up for my first event, vault.
She tapped my shoulder and said, "Hey, look who's here."
I looked up to see that Jax, Taylor and Issac had just arrived
...and with them were Hailey and Caroline.

I stopped dead in my tracks and felt tears bloom in my eyes.
I didn't know those two were coming.
And something about that image, all five of them standing there together, my whole family-- my whole family--smiling and waving at me--
I was just so, so...touched.
To my very soul.

Lauren was next to me and watching my face with a big grin on hers.
"Do you wanna go say hi to them?"
"Yeah, I better," I said, pulling myself together.
"I'm afraid I'll get distracted later if I don't now."
She gave a knowing smile and roll of the eyes, and went to prevent Dale from having heart palpitations.

They were getting settled on the first row of bleachers, and Issac was excitedly hanging a banner on the railing that he had apparently made himself. It said:

"It's Z Time!"

Oh.My.Goddess. He is TOO cute.
He saw me coming up and hid what looked to be another banner.
Hmm, what is that munchkin up to??

"I can't believe you guys are all here!" I said, embracing Jax.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"We were hoping it would be a nice surprise," Hailey grinned.
"Yeah, I hope its ok we're here?" said Caroline, always endearingly neurotic.
(Pot. Kettle. Yes, I know.)

Both of my sisters (my sisters!) were college students--Hailey a senior at U. of Rochester and Caroline a freshman at Cornell.
They had wanted to come home earlier in the week, to support me during my testimony at the trial.
However, I had asked them not to, not because I didn't want or appreciate their support--I was, I am, very very appreciative and thankful to have it.
But, I don't know...I just felt that having more people there, that I knew and cared about...would make it harder somehow...

"Of course it is," I said, still a little teary-eyed, and giving them both a hug.
"It's the best surprise ever."

"But I do have to get back now," I said pulling back.
"Yeah, Dale looks like he's about to have a stroke," Tay quipped with a wink.
"Ok, ok," I teased Issac, who'd been pulling at my arm.
"Give me my lucky hug, kiddo."

I turned to go back to the floor, disregarding Dale's wild arm waving for just another moment while I got myself re-focused.
The other girls in my rotation graciously motioned for me to go ahead of the line.
I marked my starting point on the runway as I gestured to him I was gonna do a timer; and ignored his growling as I took my turn and headed back to get in line again.
Yup, 'moment' over--for now...back to the good-ole meet-day rituals

~~~~~
Yeah, Dale gets a little um, agitated (to say the least) on meet days.
And he's always trying to blame me for his high blood pressure!!
Well, in this case, it's sure not my fault he's a big anxious baby.
So he paces and grunts and generally behaves like a raving loony.
I pay him no mind.
Lauren tries to keep him contained and out of my way.
It's quite comical really, and kinda comforting in its predictability.
Awwww.
~~~~~

It was a good day, a great day even...an amazing day.
For reasons that went so much deeper than my competitive performance, but that was pretty special too.

I did what I had done all year, 4 routines hit cold.
But there is nothing quite like the immediate moment where you finish another one.
For all the things I love about gymnastics, competition and training both, that is probably my favorite experience.
And the bigger the meet of course, the more gratifying it feels.
Today, I was especially in that "zone."


When you compete against many of the same clubs and people year after year you get pretty well acquainted with other athletes' styles and such--as do the coaches, and the parents, who can be a little um, "irritating"--I am being so nice here--at times...especially when you kick their kids ass "year after year."
*innocent shrug*

ANYway, so I assume most 'folks' are used to the way I go through a competition by now--
watch no routines; look at neither my own scores nor anyone else's.
Moreover, having seen myself on tape, I can confirm, looking completely unaware of anything going on around me, including the crowd.

However, 'people' do always ask me how: how I can be that focused, that oddly oblivious; how could I possibly be that consistent.

Well, that level of consistency, except that it surely stems at least in part from the former, I don't so much know.

Look--
I was born with a rather unseemly amount of natural physical talent, and I do everything I can to make the most of it.
But it's not as if I'm the only one out there with skill and a strong work ethic.

However, I am not aware of anyone else, at any level, who:
say, in 7 years, somewhere around 150 competitions = about 600 routines...
has fallen exactly twice.

Even I know it's inhumanly absurd.

But, it's just how I've always been, from the first time I ever stepped before a judge at the age of 6--
when I surely had not the slightest clue there was anything exceptional about it...

The "calmness" I do kinda know about.
I didn't understand it back then, what it meant to "dissociate," that it was how I endured the unendurable.
But it's a "skill", one learned from necessity, and one that I unknowingly utilized aspects of to my competitive advantage.

*shrug*


Anyways, the day, so far, was:
Vault--Bam.
Bars--Rock Solid.
Beam--Owned It.

Last event was floor, and I was last up in the rotation.
The group on beam had just finished up as I was taking the floor, so mine was the final routine of the whole meet

Now, not that this was some packed concert stadium or anything, but between competitors, coaches, the audience of family and friends, and random others, I'd estimate it to be at least 500 people in attendance for this session.

And on some level, I was aware, that basically everyone in the building was watching me, and that my little cheering section had been the loudest in the stands all day.

It's like, yeah, I know what's going on; but it just doesn't exactly penetrate my little bubble.

My only thought before the music started was:
Leave it all out there, and take it all in.

I love this routine, love it, love it, and love it.
What, Ani Difranco isn't typical floor music??
Oh well, I am, after all Shameless.
I had given the song to the brother of my friend and teammate Ali, and he made a truly brilliant floor mix for me.
And "Miss Val", as promised, choreographed the routine--
which is the most amazing honor.
Ever.

I almost didn't want those 75 seconds to end.
It was just one of those routines--
I mean, an error-free, hit routine is an error-free, hit routine, right?

No.

I can't explain it, point out why--
I just knew this one was THE best I'd ever done.

The music finished.

And the bubble popped.
I heard all this loud clapping and cheering.
I think there were a lot of people standing.
Dale had me in such a tight bear hug I was positive I was suffocating to death.

What I really remember though is looking up at my family then, and a short time later when my name was announced, "Zara Michaela Santi", and I climbed up to the top step of the podium once again to accept my trophy--
Level 9 Eastern Nationals, Junior B, All-Around Champion.

Issac was jumping up and down with the other banner.
It said...

"That's my sister!"

Tay was whooping and pumping his arms.
Caroline and Hailey were screaming themselves hoarse.

Jax was clapping and crying and crying and clapping.
Goddess, it felt so good to be responsible for her happy tears for once.

It was the most very special day...

- posted by unquiet @ 6:33 PM

oh no don't you put me in that box you know what you can do with those locks bet your life i'll come crawling out again you'll have to deal with me then you'll hear me in the wind...