Column: Gymnastics in a pandemic, here's to hands-free in a hands-on environment
By all definitions, I’m a non-essential worker in the age of a pandemic. I don’t provide health care nor services that contribute to necessary living functions. I’m a gymnastics coach.
Navigating the current reality is difficult, to say the least. I could wax poetic about the maelstroms and grievances of the present situation, but it would just be an echo of workers who have already voiced their struggles, though I want to especially emphasize the healthcare and service industry workers that deserve their voices amplified.
I only wish to highlight the oddities of navigating a normally intense and interactive sport in a distanced, strained atmosphere.
Coaching Junior-Olympic gymnastics comes with its many difficulties already, pandemic or not. The sport at the elite and collegiate track is a service of a different kind, one that hopefully secures positive development and successful futures for those participating.
As a former gymnast that followed this track and was a hopeful college athlete, I understand the fear and stress that the majority of gymnasts and parents are under.
In March, during my gym’s compulsory pre-season (and at the skyrocketing near peak of COVID-19 cases), the gym shut down. This meant more than missed practices, even financial worries. This impacted the next few years for those in our program.
Financially, our gym assigned remote lessons for each coach to record, making a certain number of recorded lessons and plans as a way to count our hours. We could choose a specific number of videos or rotate turns deep-cleaning and sanitizing the gym every week.
At that time, South Carolina was at a much lower number of cases than Georgia, where I work. I chose to record lessons and assignments for our competitive gymnasts, writing detailed instructions on how to perform the exercises while trying to inform the gymnasts on the relevance of them, understanding that without mindful engagement in the lessons, the exercise without proper application meant nothing.
It was physically challenging at some points, to a somewhat funny degree for my parents and those who had to watch me record, perform the exercise, often repeat the process, voice over the video in my bathtub for clear audio and then spend the majority of my time writing and explaining the purposes.
Mentally it became tiresome, then anxiety-inducing as I realized there is still time lost in the gym, actively performing the skills and strength without monitoring and no emotional and developmental support from me or other coaches.
The gym reopened a few months later with strict guidelines. Recreational classes did not start with the initial reopening.
In order to maintain social distancing, the teams were split apart, even up to half the level separated from each other. Only seven to 10 kids were allowed in the gym, all with their own piece of equipment or panel to work on, staying well over six feet away from coaches and their teammates.
Between rotations each apparatus was sanitized and wiped down, leading to some of the equipment to begin fraying, cracking and sometimes becoming slick.
We were not allowed to touch the gymnasts, we also wore masks.
As a coach, there is a degree of connection you have with the gymnast that comes from your expressions, your words and your reinforcement of positions with your hands, manipulating the body to the correct angles and pressing the correct muscle groups for the gymnast to understand bodily awareness, a critical aspect of gymnastics.
We had to learn to be more expressive with our hands, to speak louder, offer more encouragement and reassurances in more than just our words. We drew shapes on the whiteboards and did the skills as examples.
At one point of frustration with the distance, I found a pool noodle to reach and touch the muscles on the gymnasts that needed reminders. When classes reopened, I could not hold the hands of the younger gymnasts, I could not hug the preschoolers when they learned their first handstand.
Instead of holding hands, I would take that same pool noodle or pole (sanitized) and would make the kids grab onto one end while I walked them down the beam so they had a semblance of support.
It was difficult, but we made it work.
As it seemed cases were declining, parents signed wavers for coaches to begin spotting their kids. Even then, we still try to limit how much we touch them, only when necessary and briefly.
Sanitizing stations were set up around the gym and water fountains were closed. Spectators were not allowed and teammates could still not congregate between stations.
In June, I ended up testing positive for COVID after getting the test due to severe exhaustion and other symptoms. I ended up staying out of work for a month instead of the recommended two weeks.
As the year has progressed (and so have the cases), we’ve managed to adapt well to a point where practices do seem “normal.”
We’ve noticed a difference in attention with the gymnasts. Without seeing the lower-half of our faces, our corrections and discussions don’t seem to be as engaging. But once again, we adapt.
I am eternally proud of the gymnasts that have managed to strive and surpass their goals despite the clear disadvantage they are at.
I find it enlightening to discuss how the pandemic has impacted other gyms, and even other workers, these months. Everyday is a new challenge, and safety is at the forefront of my mind and the gym’s mind. There seems to be a new conversation in the “coaches corner” on how to appropriately handle a situation or correction with the masks and distance. We are learning from each other and the kids.
There is one advantage the gymnasts have now, though they might disagree with me on this: They’ve learned to soften their falls without a hand to catch them.