They disperse to their mats, warm up, begin the class in earnest. Today, Mimi’s supposed to be working on adding a full twist into her front layout; turning 360° sideways in the air while flipping over.

She does a layout or two to warm up. They come so naturally now — launch, flip, land. Then she takes a breath, does an extra run-up to start herself off, and tries the twist.

It doesn’t work. She lands unsteadily, and staggers forward to regain her balance.

Try again. Concentrate. Launch into the air, layout position, heels over head, and now twist—

“Half,” Lea pronounces, watching Mimi land with a critical eye. “You did it halfway, and then—”

“I flipped back. I know.” Mimi frowns. It feels like it should be easy, twisting all the way round while flipping, but it’s really not, and she doesn’t know how to get past it.

She tries again and again, but her body seems to have its own agenda. Half the twist is fine, but then she’s somehow scrambling back the wrong way for landing.

“I need to get all the way over,” she mutters. Tries again. No go.

For the first time in a long time, gymnastics is actually getting frustrating.

“Come on, Mimi, you can do this,” Tova says. “You’ve done harder stuff than that.”

“I don’t know,” Mimi says, stopping a moment to catch her breath. “This is like — feel like I need to split my mind in two, do both things at once. The layout and the twist. And I can’t do that.”

“Sure you can. Here, I’ll talk you through it.”

Tova steps to the side, calls out instructions. “Muscles tight — heels over — now twist, keep turning, keep turning—. Nope, not that way!”

“Too late.” Mimi lands, pushes a stray hair out of her face. “Forget it. I’m not getting anywhere with this. I need a break.”

“A break, she needs, because for once she doesn’t get the move within five minutes,” Lea grumbles, from the other side of her.

Mimi’s eyebrows fly up. Where did that come from?

Lea shrugs. “Some of us are still on basic layouts, you know. You got those ages ago.”

Oh. Somehow, she’s upsetting her gymnastics friends — or at least one of them — by being too successful. Mimi’s stomach clenches.

Can’t she ever get it right? Why isn’t it okay for once, just for once, for her to be the best at something?

“Lea, I’ll be coming to you in a minute, just keep practicing,” Tova says, clearly trying to help but missing the point.

Lea rolls her eyes.

Tova turns back to Mimi. “Listen, we’ll work on this more on Sunday or whatever, but I think half the problem is that you think you can’t do it. You’re telling yourself you can only go so far, so you’re not able to do it. You need to change that turn in your mind, tell yourself you can, it’s not hard, and get that mind block out the way. I know you don’t really have a problem doing it.”

Glad you’re so confident, Mimi wants to say, but she doesn’t.

When Tova moves on, Mimi clenches her muscles, tries to picture herself flipping and twisting. Her mind can’t seem to do the move either.

I can, I can, I can, she thinks.

I can do it. It’s not hard. I’ve done harder.

She takes a tentative step forward, tries again, twists wildly, and lands in a heap on the edge of her mat.

“Ouch!” It’s the shock, more than the pain, that makes her cry out. Tova looks up sharply, and a few girls stop and turn.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Mimi stands up gingerly. She is fine, maybe a little bruised, that’s all. “I’m just — going to get a drink.”

No more layouts today, full twists or not.

I can do it. I can, she tells herself again, trying to sound convincing.

Maybe.

And maybe not.

To be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 934)