I wish I could just drop out of team gymnastics altogether ...

Up until last month, gymastics was great.  Then Coach Alburton left; in her place came a woman from Russia who said that she could whip us into shape; she felt that we weren't performing up to our full potential.  So this is why she came.  Coach Alburton left because her multiple sclerosis got worse; she could no longer do her duties as coach.

We found out right away just how much of a taskmaster she really was.  She believed in getting up extra early, just so we could get to the gym on time (like before the crack of dawn).  She had us doing exercises that ultimately made our bodies scream out in pain.  She made us run around the track outside the gymnasium.  She had us do no less than fifty pushups prior to working out.  She had us scarf down nasty concoctions (raw eggs, for one) that we had to keep from bringing back up.  She also made sure that we had proper body alignment:  "There is nothing uglier than a gymnast with sloppy posture", she was always barking at us.

The new coach's name was Madame Barishnikova.  We called her "Bear".  The name fit her persoanity.  She was not nice; she was always looking for any and all faults in whatever we did.  Nothing we did seemed to meet her expectations.

Now gymnastics is nothing but a chore.  We dread coming to the gym; we go there at least six days a week, rain or shine, in hot or cold weather.  Doesn't matter to Madame Barishnikova:  if we are late or are absent, it's subject to severe punishment. 

Nowadays, whenever I go to bed at night, I have nightmares.  I have them just about every night.  I see Madame's stone-cold face leering in my mind's eye, and it is enough to make me want to throw up.

*to be continued.*