Always changing

One day I’m doing soccer and one day I’m doing baseball. I can’t select a hobby to do. I’m so overwhelmed by what is going on in my life that I don’t know what to do anymore to keep me busy. I keep on changing because I feel like if I keep on changing my hobbies I will finally find something that I will succeed in. My dad has always told me that one day I find a sport or class that fits my personality the best. Until then, I’m gonna keep on looking. I see all of my friends doing sports. One of them is doing baseball, one of them is karate, one of them is doing basketball and has been doing it since he was five years old. On the other hand, I’m not doing anything. I’ve gone overweight and helpless looking around for anything that comes at me. Trying to find a change more. I tell my mom what I’m trying to do. my mom has gone furious flipping through the pages and pages on Google. She’d search up some classes that she could enroll me in. From time to time I wonder if she wants this more than me. One day, she asked me if I wanted to do acting, drama, or even be one of the people on the track team. It’s been really stressful for me. I don’t know why I can’t hold onto a hobby and it’s been gnawing at me for ages. I just heard from my 12-year-old friend, Fred, that he got a black belt in karate. He had started karate since he was only four years old! I wonder what it’s like to excel at something that you really enjoy. My hobbies keep slipping through my fingers like water I’m trying to hold. My mom had still been pulling out articles until I noticed the one that caught my eye. It was tryouts for gymnastics. A seizure just shot through my mind, a boy trying out for gymnastics, what would people think of me? But that night, as I slept in bed, trying to think of a new hobby, the gymnastics tryouts posters come back to me over and over like a boomerang.

The next morning, I slowly walked over to my mom. Mom, I said shiley, my throat started to close up as my saliva got sucked back. I ran into my room and took out the poster, and showed it to my mom. My mom's face lit up as she saw me hold that poster so passionately.

“Of course!” She said happily, as her eyes went back and forth across the poster. Her eyes went back and forth like she was watching a ping pong game. “Tryouts are in 2 days!” The regret swept over me as I remember that I had no clue about gymnastics. I thought of all the good gymnasts that will be there, that will be there to beat me, that will crush my dream once again. I first thought of a cartwheel, I’ve seen people in movies and TV shows do them a lot. How hard could it be? I thought to myself. I ran upstairs and clenched my computer, as I ran back to the basement. “How to do a cartwheel for beginners in one day” I searched up, for me the more specific the better. I watched about 5 videos, Hey I’m starting to get the hang of this, I thought to myself. After about ten videos I was motivated to do more, was this my true passion? I wasn’t sure yet.

It was the next day and I had mastered my cartwheel. My mom called me up for grilled cheese sandwiches as I gobbled them down. I learned enough about gymnastics to know that I shouldn’t do gymnastics right after I eat. Because of this complication, I decided to binge-watch more gymnastics videos. Instead of watching cartwheel videos this time, I decided to watch handstand videos.

Now it has been around 30 minutes, and I think that I’m good. I went up to the wall and stirred up and down. you better catch me I’m moderate to myself. Praying to God in my mind, I go for it. the next thing I know, I’m upside down blood rushing to my head. I got it, I actually really got it. And it’s not just the handstand. I got my sport I think that

gymnastics Is my one and only sport that I truly love and don’t have to feel pressured. I will deal with the whole “boy” situation later.

The sunrise woke me up. I quickly jumped out of bed. It's the day, I thought to myself it’s the day of gymnastics tryouts. I felt nervous and excited at the same time!. It was the day that I could finally secure my hobby. That’s it! I thought to myself, no changing it, I want to be a gymnast, weather is the last thing I do. 

I was in my mom's Tesla as she asked me about what I was going to show them. I may show them a cartwheel, or a handstand, but I’m not sure yet. 

“You know there are going to be some great gymnasts there.” My mom said,” And don’t be disappointed if you don’t get selected.” Her voice trailed off. I took deep breaths the whole car ride, trying not to chicken out. 

The next thing I knew, I was in a gymnastics gym, I saw girls doing round offs, front tucks, and back handsprings. My stomach did a flip as I watched one girl do a combo of a roundoff back handspring. I stared around, there were no boys there. My fear came back, what if all the girls laughed at me during the tryouts? What if I messed up a simple task like a cartwheel? A bold voice interrupted my thoughts. 

“Hi!” A voice boomed, “I’m coach Nick, your tryout instructor.” My adrenaline starts pumping really fast as my knuckles get white. I was leaving quietly until I heard Coach Nick’s voice. “You!” He said, “You're going first!” I spun around, my face in absolute terror. Me? I slowly walked up to the mat as I circled my ankles. I saw Coach Mike smile at me as I rolled back my shoulders. I….I can only do a cartwheel and handstand. I managed to whisper. I could see the smirks on the other girl's faces. Why, oh why did I come here? Coach Mike smiled at me. “It’s fine.” He whispered, “this school is for learning.” We don’t expect you to know everything.” His words calmed me down a bit, as I got into my lunge. Immediately, I saw him take notes on his clipboard. I took a deep breath, and …..did it! I got my cartwheel. I got up smiling. At the corner of my eye, I saw my mom, her face gleaming with pride. I walked over to the wall and… did it! I got my handstand too! I saw Coach Mike’s face twist into a smile. “You can go sit down now kiddo.” He said to me. 

 30 minutes later, the list had been posted, I slowly walked outside preparing for failure. I saw the poster for who was admitted. At the top of the poster, I saw the words TEAM CAPTAIN. Right under those words, I saw my name! YES! I’m not a failure anymore! YES! I have found my true passion. I skipped outside of the lobby, I’m not a failure, I thought to myself. I’m not a failure.