Finding Freedom 30 Feet in the Air

I’ve dreamed of competing in the Olympics for as long as I can remember. I would practice my salute in front of the bathroom mirror, pretending I was about to begin my routine. I imagined what it would look like, what it would feel like, how it would finish in triumph and joy.

A trampoline routine is made up of 10 skills, each consisting of a double or triple flip with countless twists and shapes in between. All 10 must be performed consecutively, the positions precise. No repeats. Toes pointed.

I was addicted to chasing perfection in the air. The thrill of learning a new skill, refining it and putting it in a routine was my life’s purpose for almost two decades. But as exhilarating as the skills were, it was in the bounces right before, the moments of pure suspension, that I found my freedom.

At the start of every routine, you have to build up to full height. You bounce, each jump building on the one before it, until you are launching skyward with such speed and energy that not even gravity can keep its grip on you. You finally reach your peak, close to 30 feet in the air, and float — just for a millisecond.