The morning of the competition, I had such a great start. I was rooming with my teammate Emily Gaskins, who is a pure joy to be around. When I woke up, the room was dark, but in a matter of seconds Emily was jumping up and down all over the place, raising the shades, shouting, “Meet Day, Meet Day! Get up, it’s Meet Day!” To her it didn’t matter that we would be competing against each other; she just wanted us to enjoy life, the event ahead of us, and the fact that we were there together. Everything about her energy was screaming, Isn’t this the best day in the world??? I love having team spirit and being encouraged by others, and in my mind, Emily is great at both. That morning she filled my cup with her energy to the point of overflowing, which is one of the reasons I think I did so well.
In Jesolo I earned a bronze medal in the all-around with a score of 58.550, coming in behind two other seniors, Ragan Smith and Gabby Douglas. Ragan is such a gifted gymnast, and Gabby, of course, had been the 2012 Olympic all-around champion. I also earned a silver medal on vault and a gold medal on balance beam ahead of Ragan and Aly Raisman, who was also a 2012 Olympian.
The second international competition of the year was in April. It was the Pacific Rim Gymnastics Championships (known as Pac Rim) in Everett, Washington. I didn’t have much experience as a senior, so Marta put me on that team to gain more. The team consisted of myself, Aly Raisman, Ragan Smith, Simone Biles (the three-time world all-around champion), Ashton Locklear, and Brenna Dowell. Because I was surrounded by so much talent, I just remember thinking, Watch and learn.
My goal was to hit as many of my routines as possible, and not only did I do that, the entire team hit their routines, too! Everyone was so proud of us. It was such a great feeling. I had an all-around score of 59.800, which contributed to the team’s first-place finish, and I also placed third individually, behind Simone and Aly. I didn’t earn the all-round bronze, though, because of a rule limiting medals to two gymnasts per country (in case one country was dominating and might sweep all the others). The bronze went to Nagi Kajita of Japan instead. But it was great knowing that I came in right after two of my strongest teammates. I also qualified for the beam finals, but it was decided that neither Simone nor I would compete in the event finals because the team management wanted us as rested as we could be for the Olympic Trials. That turned out to be a very good plan, because not everything in 2016 went as smoothly as it first appeared it would. . . .
The time between Pac Rim and the Olympic Trials in July turned out to be very stressful for me. I had strained a muscle in my leg—not the leg I’d had surgery on, the other one. When I told the trainers it was bothering me, they suggested I take a week off to rest it. They believed time off from doing leg conditioning and running would help. So I did exactly what they said and still did bars and light beam work, and I didn’t tumble or exert my lower body. But after a week it hurt even more, which confused me. I kept thinking, It’s just a muscle strain—I don’t understand why it could possibly feel this bad. But the muscle wasn’t firing up properly, so I knew that in both upcoming competitions—the Secret Classic in Hartford, Connecticut, and the P&Gs in St. Louis—I would have to work around the strain, if I could compete at all.
Now, I’m a mentally strong individual. Throughout my recovery from the earlier wrist and knee injuries, I proved my strength to others and to myself. I refused to accept defeat. I might have been stressed at first, but I got motivated quickly and did the job I had to in order to get better. But for some reason, I just couldn’t understand how this latest strain wasn’t getting better. I was super frustrated.
One night, right after I returned from Pac Rim, my family took me out to dinner at one of my favorite Tex-Mex restaurants. It’s called Freppe’s, and it’s owned by Jelysa’s boyfriend, Joe Deserio. Suddenly, out of nowhere, even before we got through the nachos, I started having a total meltdown. I don’t know what came over me, I just started hysterically crying. At first everyone was shocked into silence because I almost never cry. I get nervous, but I usually don’t do tears. That night, though, I remember saying between sobs, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore. I don’t think my body can take it.”
When I looked up, everyone’s shocked expressions seemed to say, Who is this person? Give us back our Laurie. Then they all came together and said things like “Look, this gift you have for gymnastics was given to you because it’s meant to be your platform.” “Now is your time, you even said so yourself!” “You’re such a talented girl. You’ve worked so hard. You have to keep going.” “If anybody can do it, you can!” They all promised to continue to be there for me, and I know they meant it, but I still couldn’t stop crying. That’s when Jelysa said, “I get it. This is beyond anything any of us have ever done. I totally would have quit by now, but you’re not a quitter. That’s not who you are. I’ve always known you to be passionate and to keep going even when other people just give up.”
Somehow, that got through to me. I heard what she was saying, and my crying slowed until it was just sniffles. The waitresses kept giving me tissues the whole time, so by the end of the meal I had this mound of used Kleenex piled in front of me. Jelysa reached across the table and grabbed them. “Give me those,” she said. She stuffed them in her pocket, and as we were leaving, she told my dad she wasn’t throwing them away. She said she was keeping them so that when I made the Olympic team, she could give them back to me as a reminder of my struggle and of this defining moment. She knew that if I was crying, I had to be going through something much tougher than they ever imagined, because I just never show that kind of stress. I’m a gymnast, and gymnasts are used to holding all of that in. (Well, there was that time in the very beginning when I got my first rip and I thought the world was going to end, but I’m a lot tougher now!) If the caption under Marcus’s Facebook picture on his prom night was proof of his belief in me, collecting all those tissues that evening was Jelysa’s I know she’s going to make it moment.
I used my family’s pep talk as fuel to help me get through the next few competitions. I think it was because they were the right words, said at the right time, in the right way. When injuries occur, it’s usually because your body is trying to tell you something. The message might be, You’re doing this thing all wrong or You’re driving yourself too hard. But in competitive environments, people are constantly telling you to push through the pain, and that message can drown out what your body is saying and what your body needs. In gymnastics, part of it is that the window of opportunity is pretty narrow. I was reminded of that fact a lot during my injuries. Although my newest injury didn’t seem as bad as the earlier ones, it would still need time to heal, and that window-of-opportunity thing was lurking in the back of my mind, making me feel like time was running out. The Olympics were just three months away, so that voice—the one telling me to push through the pain—was more insistent than usual. All of this together was what had brought on my meltdown. But what I heard Jelysa saying was, We believe in you. You’re so close. Take it one step at a time, but don’t give up, because you’ve worked too hard to get here. And those words resonated deeply with me. They were exactly what I needed to get me over and through.
When the strain lingered for a couple more weeks, I began questioning if I’d have enough time to prepare for the Olympics. I got therapy for it, and acupuncture treatments, too, but when they didn’t work, I ultimately saw Dr. Scott Greenberg, who’s treated many other Olympic athletes with complex injuries. That’s when we realized how serious the strain was. My VMO muscle, located just above and to the inside of my knee, was badly damaged. Luckily, Dr. Greenberg is known for repairing this kind of injury using an amazing treatment called PRP (which stands for platelet-rich plasma). Basically, he took platelets and other growth factors from my own blood and injected them right into the area where my damaged muscle wasn’t healing properly, thereby helping my body to heal itself. I couldn’t believe it! In seven weeks, I went from being unable to bend my knee to beating Dr. Greenberg in a high-jump compet
ition on the clinic’s patient beds! Once again I found myself so grateful that I’d persevered and that I’d gotten the kind of excellent medical care I needed. Now it was time to get back to competing and making it to the Olympics.
TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS
CHAPTER 11
IN JUNE, I HEADED TO HARTFORD TO COMPETE IN the Secret Classic, but I only did bars there because we wanted to avoid stressing my knee too much. Mostly, the team management needed to see if I could compete—they were clearly looking ahead to determine my potential for the Olympics and whether I could still physically withstand the pressures.
As it turned out, I scored a 15.400 and everyone was happy with that—most of all me. Even though I didn’t compete in all four events at the Classic, I still qualified for the P&Gs later that month.
The P&G Championships are often held in different host cities, but this time they were in St. Louis again. St. Louis, as you will recall, was where my mom first taught me to celebrate my disappointments after I came in twenty-first place all those years ago. It was heartwarming to return to the city knowing that this time, I was on the brink of making the US Olympic team. Though I did have to keep things real, because that still wasn’t a sure thing. How I did at the P&Gs would determine whether I got to the Trials, and how I did at the Trials would determine if I went to the Olympics.
At the end of day one of the two-day competition, Simone came in first and I was tied for second with Aly in the all-around. She and I both had a score of 60.450. But after the full competition scores were totaled on day two, Simone had won the all-around, Aly had come in second, and I had taken third. I also placed third on bars and beam and tied for third with MyKayla Skinner on floor. Although Aly and I had jostled for second on the all-around, and she had ultimately won, I was content. My mission had been to make it to the Olympic Trials, and I had done that.
My goal for the Trials was basically the same as what my goal had been for the P&Gs: I had to show Marta and all the other Olympic staff that they could trust me enough to put me up in Rio. So my whole agenda coming into those Trials was to hit all my routines. During practice, I kept thinking about every possible thing that could mess me up. I had to go back to my earliest training and remember how to quiet those thoughts in my head. I had to focus on technique, technique, technique.
On the day of the Trials, which took place in San Jose, California, all the girls were crying. I think Aly started it because, at age twenty-two, this could be her last Olympic Trials. Once she started crying, Simone started crying, and then I started crying. It was a whole thing, and that’s when all the girls competing kind of huddled up and one of the gymnasts, Amelia Hundley, said, “You know what, guys? No matter what happens, we all love each other. Just because one of us doesn’t get named to the team, that doesn’t mean we’re bad students; it just means it wasn’t our time.” Throughout the whole final stretch of that season, we’d all been so supportive of each other. When we’d been backstage at the P&Gs, everyone was nervous. It had been a stressful year for a lot of us, so we were giving each other hugs on hugs on hugs. That’s when Brenna Dowell, who was competing, too, suggested that we pray together quickly before the start of the meet. We all got into a circle, held hands, and asked that we be kept safe, that we have a great time that day, and that we all just be there for each other. That moment at the P&Gs—and the moment just before the Trials when we huddled together the way we did—were two of the best ways ever to start a competition.
Thankfully, in the end I did hit all my routines at the Olympic Trials! There was only one exception. On the second day, I stepped out of bounds on floor. That was a stressful moment, but it was a small enough mistake, and I’d otherwise executed such a strong routine, I knew my chances weren’t over as long as I was very careful for the other three events. Still, I’m sure I gave my parents a heart attack. The anxiety was crazy the whole time, and you could feel the tension in the air. Ultimately, I ended up placing second in the all-around behind Simone, and I made the team!!!
Simone Biles, Gabby Douglas, Aly Raisman, Madison Kocian, and I were going to the Olympics to represent the United States of America in women’s gymnastics, and I couldn’t have been more ecstatic! That moment confirmed just how strong we all were. I felt like we were superheroes. I remember stripping down my warm-ups and putting on the USA warm-ups. They were blue, which I think of as a power color. We were handed flowers and there was confetti everywhere. We were no longer individuals competing against each other: we were a team.
The night before I was flying to Texas to begin practicing with the new official team, my family held a going-away party for me. Coincidentally, it was at the same restaurant where I’d my tearful meltdown after the Pacific Rim competition. This time, though, I was much cheerier and it was Jelysa who got emotional.
She pulled out this bag of goodies and handed it to me. I noticed she had tears in her eyes and I thought, I know I’m leaving and I know you love me, but jeez. She coaxed me to look inside the bag. That’s when I saw this cute little purse. She said, “Open it!” Inside, there were tissues, and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why. Then she explained that these tissues had stayed in her coat pocket all season long. They were the ones she’d taken from me the night of my meltdown, and she’d saved them for this very occasion to mark my journey from that moment to this one. She wanted me to know that all along she’d had faith in me. I was so moved, I almost started crying again!
After I had a delicious quesadilla (what else?!), Marcus drove me home early because I always need my sleep. We talked about all the adversity leading up to the Trials and how I’d gotten through it. That three-month rough patch was really the only time I’d had doubts about whether I was going to make it. The thing about those doubts, though, is that they weren’t just surface doubts. I’d wondered during that time if it might be all over for me. Not just as an Olympic hopeful, but as a competitive gymnast in general.
Besides having to live with all my own uncertainty during that period, I’d also had to face something new: fans openly expressing their own concerns about me. I’d read a few comments on Tumblr about how I was nice and all, but how I wasn’t ready for the Olympics. I think a lot of people just didn’t know enough about me then. While I was known by decision makers and other competitors in the gymnastics world, gymnastics fans are generally more in tune with the senior members of the team, and I had only become a senior that year. There were so many seniors whose careers up until that point made them viable contenders. The media focused on them because it didn’t seem like anyone else would break through the pack. I was a dark horse going into Trials. In the weeks leading up, some of the girls who the media assumed would make the team were already on magazine covers and even had endorsement deals and commercials. In some cases, the media guessed incorrectly. For instance, they thought Maggie Nichols was going, and when she didn’t because of an injury, I’m sure it was heartbreaking for her. Maggie had torn the meniscus in her knee right before Pacific Rim and needed surgery to repair it. I was inspired by how hard she worked to get back in shape, but there just wasn’t enough time. She is someone I’ve always looked up to as a phenomenal gymnast and an awesome team leader. And most of all, I admired the way she handled her disappointment with such dignity and grace.
Looking back, I probably focused a little too much on all the speculation about who was going and who wasn’t. Other people may have thought I was a long shot, but I didn’t think so, and that’s what mattered. I did what I always do when there’s an obstacle in front of me: I just held my head up and kept going until I finally reached my destination. I used all that crazy emotion as motivation. I thought, Oh, you don’t think I’m ready? I’ll show you! And I did show them.
I must say that making the Olympic team was not only a personal victory for me. My coach, Maggie, had never gone to the Olympics before, either. I was her first elite gymnast, her first National Team member, her first gymnast to compete internationally—and now I
was her first gymnast going to the Olympics. For more than a decade we’d worked together. And most of all, we had grown together. That was something great about us. Because competing in the Olympics is such an incredible honor and because we were both able go there for the first time together, we both knew this moment was one we’d remember forever.
RIO!
CHAPTER 12
AFTER ELEVEN LONG YEARS OF TRAINING FOR THE Olympics, it was crazy how fast everything happened next.
Because the media hadn’t been positioning me as one of the five team members leading into the Trials, my family hadn’t allowed themselves to consider the possibility of a trip to Rio. Then the announcement came that I was going, and suddenly they were going to have to scurry for last-minute plane tickets and pack their bags. I was already on my way to Texas for Olympic training camp when my family sat down and talked about who would go with me. It was decided that only my parents would head to Brazil—because the threat of the Zika virus was so serious, all adult family members of childbearing age were advised to stay home. (Honestly, I didn’t even consider Zika in relation to myself. As far as I was concerned, this was a once- or twice-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and it was something I definitely didn’t want to miss. I can’t think of anything that could have stopped me from going!) Since Jelysa was twenty-seven and Marcus was twenty, and since someone needed to stay home to care for my elderly grandmother, it made sense that they both remained behind. At first I was disappointed, but then I realized they’d been watching many of my competitions from a distance all these years, and yet I still always felt their presence. Besides, my parents deserved to have a vacation all by themselves!
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