at a hundred different lock-ins
at my gym
with a team of girls
who all have the same dream
it never struck me that
it was likely that none
of us would become Olympic champions
everyone wanting it
made it seem possible
even probable

but every gym
in every town
in every state
is full of little girls
with the same dream

and only a few ever make it
only a few ever become great
only a few are known by their name alone
Nadia
Mary Lou
Carly

I bet most people can’t even name the
1996 gold medal team

I can

because I, and every gym kid around,
dreamed of becoming them
of getting that medal draped over our necks
and placing our hands over hearts
for the national anthem

a dream so crazy you think it
might really happen

so you work your tail off
flipping, twisting and pointing your toes
until they want to fall off
swinging around the bar
trying to make that handstand
absolutely
perfect
throwing yourself into the air
over and over and over again
for the dream

I think I used to love gymnastics
I loved the idea that I could
make my body do things
that made other girls jealous

but somewhere the dream takes over
and you forget about
your friends
and your family
and your life
and you spend all your time at the gym,
because if you just practice
hard enough
then it could happen
and you have to practice harder
than everyone else around you

as the tricks get bigger
more cruel
girls disappear
they drop out
and those of us left behind
shake our heads
in utter disbelief
that they could abandon
this dream

is it my dream
or does it gain it’s power
from being the collective dream of so many?

I know it’s stupid,
but today,
admitting that I will never be
one of the greats
is like dropping at
least one of the chains
that entangle me

but where will I go from here?