The Comeback
A couple weeks ago we heard more from a TLAG community member about her reignition of passion for the sport of gymnastics. Today, we will hear just how healing this journey has been for her and why we should never give up on our dreams…
Feature Story Part 3 with Lori Vollkommer
It was October 2016. Private lessons turned into team practices. I was so nervous during the first practice. Would they be welcoming to me? Their ages ranged from 9 to 12. How am I going to fit in? I loved the idea of a team practice. Longer workouts were sure to provide more of a challenge for me than just an open gym or class. And I could work with girls at my level, giving me a feeling of camaraderie… just like the old days.
They were so welcoming to me, providing support, encouragement and guidance. There was so much I didn’t remember and many stark differences to the past. Initially, and for the first couple of months, I couldn’t make it through the entire 3 hour practice. I struggled to be there the three nights a week they practiced. Most nights I left there exhausted, body hurting, but never doubting that I could reach my goal. It worked out fine that I was leaving practice early since I decided to only compete floor exercise. When the girls went to other events, I went to tumbl trak. I made sure to continue my pilates mat practice as well as TRX. I knew this is what got me physically strong enough to perform the skills I was doing.
The first competition was 12 weeks away. Bonnie suggested I pick floor music that meant something to me, keeping lyrics if I wanted to since USAIGC allowed that. I meticulously hand-picked the “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus sung by Shalyah Fearing, a contestant on “The Voice” in a version performed by her that season. I chose the lines that spoke my story.
It took several weeks to choreograph my routine. Most times after each practice, I left with doubt, wondering will I ever remember the choreography? Will I be able to have the endurance to get through it? Will my nerves hold me back? It’s been 33 years since I was on a competition floor. So much emotion was attached to the outcome of this. I was getting a second chance. How many people really have those opportunities come along? And then also take the risk? There were lots of internal emotions.
A week before the competition, I pulled a muscle in my groin. There were limited skills I could practice. Not an ideal situation. It took so much mental preparation that week to keep my head in the game and my heart in check. The night before the competition, I took an epsom salt bath. While I lay there, full of nerves, fears, doubt and worry that my dream would once again be stripped away, a little voice reminded me of some wisdom I have learned, “Life is lived IN THE MOMENT. You have prepared as best you could. If you let the fear and worry win out, you’ll miss the joy and the moment you are meant to experience. GO HAVE YOUR MOMENT.” I slept well that night.
The day of the competition came. My leg was tight and sore. It hurt to do splits. I wasn’t sure if I could compete. This wasn’t a decision I could make on my own. There was too much emotion in this for me. I decided I would talk to Bonnie when I got there. I’ve told her on many occasions she needs to be my gas and my brakes. The inner 16 year old in me was on a mission. She can’t be trusted to make the best decisions for my health. I checked in, found Bonnie and her response, “Oh no, you are competing.” Looking back, I’m so happy she said that. She knows her athletes so well. She wasn’t going to let my nerves get in the way of my moment. I shifted into competition mode, “Remember what it took to get here. Let the JOY flow.” I looked around the gym, “Take it all in. Notice the sounds, the smells, the sights… I was competing again after 33 years!!! GO HAVE YOUR MOMENT!”
I found my teammates and stuck close by them. I was competing in the age 16+ group. As we started warm ups, I could hear some competitors sitting near us snickering that a “grown up” was competing too. My husband and kids could hear what they were saying. Their tone changed once they saw me warming up my skills. That’s right, I’d earned my right to be there.
It was my turn to go. I was surprised that I wasn’t that nervous. I was concerned about a number of skills and if I could perform them with my groin hurting, but I quickly reminded myself, “Do the best you can and enjoy it”. The music came on, “I can almost feel it, that dream I’m dreaming but there’s a voice inside my head saying, you’ll never reach it,” the lyrics continued. First tumbling pass, Round off, back handspring, back tuck... nailed it. Leap pass, OUCH, there’s that groin pull. Will I be able to do my last tumbling pass? I fell on my front handspring, front tuck. But I didn’t care. I DID IT!!!! I finished that floor routine, saluted the judge and felt as though I won a gold medal at the Olympics. IT WAS ONE OF THE MOST AMAZING MOMENTS OF MY LIFE. I was a gymnast again.
It was four days before my next competition. It was the end of the night and I was tired. One more run through, the inner 16 year old nudged me. I landed strangely out of my back tuck. I felt my leg give out and fell back. What just happened? I didn’t feel anything rip or hear a pop, but I was in pain… and shock. They immediately got me ice. We happened to be filming that one, so we caught it on video. Upon landing, my knee came in. An MRI would soon give a devastating outcome… I ruptured the ACL in my left knee.
I was so devastated. Is this really happening? The goal of going to the World Championships, of healing my soul, of having gymnastics back in my life, gone yet again. How could I come this far, have a second chance at finishing my story on my terms, only to have it ripped away again? I bawled my eyes out for days. It wasn’t just tears from this injury, it was decades worth of tears pouring out.
I didn’t come this far, to only come this far. It was a long recovery road ahead. I decided I’d use this comeback for motivation. Nothing was going to keep me away. I had my ACL repaired instead of reconstructed. A quicker recovery meant I would be back sooner. The goal: to be back by my 50th birthday. This time, I’d train vault, bars and floor.
More motivated than ever, I went to PT and worked my butt off. I reminded my PT guy, Russ, often of the goal to be back in 3 ½ months. He would remind me that may not be realistic. The warrior inside of me would prove him wrong, meeting each benchmark needed to go to the next step of rehab and recovery ahead of schedule.
By August 5th, 2017, my 50th birthday, I was back at practice revved up with new goals. It was sure to be an exciting year. Besides having the end goal of World Championships, a competition in Bermuda was on our itinerary. It was a huge adjustment practicing with the metal brace, my Forest Gump brace as I affectionately called it. . The surgeon made it clear though, my age would mean wearing it for a year. That wasn’t the only adjustment or even the biggest one. The vault horse was now a table, no longer looking like a pommel horse without handles. But bars would certainly be the biggest adjustment of all.
Coming from the generation of “belly beats”, the grips were also different. Putting those new dowel grips on and swinging on bars, I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to feel mentally confident. I felt as though I would swing right off, repeating what happened decades before. Bonnie realized my hesitation and she pulled me aside, “Oh, I see what’s going on here. But let me show you why these grips were designed to actually prevent that from happening.” She had me remove one of my grips and grab the bar with both hands. She tugged on the gripless hand. It came right off. She then tugged on the hand with the dowel grip. With the dowel grabbing, it prevented my hand from coming off the bar. “You see, as long as your hands are up and over so the dowel grabs, you cannot slip off.” That’s all I needed and my frustrating journey with bars was only just beginning.
The other huge positive change for me that year was a more formal gymnastics strength and conditioning program. My oldest son, Jarad, with a degree in Exercise Science and Human Performance, trains athletes in strength and conditioning for their sport helping them achieve their goals by getting stronger, faster, increasing mobility, thereby enhancing performance. He began writing my strength and conditioning programs based on my individual needs, weaknesses and requirements with my injury history. This was a game changer for me. While my muscle memory helped my body know what to do, I believe it was the lack of strength and power in my body that made me vulnerable to that ACL rupture. Coincidentally, my body began to recover more efficiently as I got stronger in the right ways. I and many others know, and as my own experience will testify, strength and conditioning are primary to our sport. For injury prevention, protecting the body, acquiring new skills, endurance level and more, getting a good conditioning program for yourself like those offered by Train Like A Gymnast, are very important for your performance. For me, it means I can do gymnastics, confident in my body and knowing my spine is also protected. That’s of primary importance to me for obvious reasons.
My inner 16 year old was in heaven. She was driven, motivated, goal-oriented and fierce. I was feeling “like a gymnast” training skills, choreographing routines, training for competitions. Sixteen year old me was in charge. She had lots of unfinished business. There was no stopping her. She pushed me beyond my comfort zone and to new limits. This felt like my first “real” year back. Despite having to wear the metal brace, training was going well. And then there was Bermuda.
Never dreaming I’d have this opportunity as a kid, I was so excited to be competing at an international meet! Each year, USAIGC hosts a couple of international competitions. Our team committed to one every year. We arrived at the training facility where the competition was going to take place. Heading over to floor exercise, our first event after initial warm ups, we started cross tumbling. The floor was so much bouncier than I was used to. I ran for my front handspring, front tuck. Upon landing my front tuck, I rebounded so high and so fast that before I knew what happened, I rolled my ankle coming down from the rebound. I was in excruciating pain. Crawling off to the side of the mat, I was soon met by my coach and the Athletic Trainer on site. We stuck my ankle in a bucket of ice water to try to reduce the swelling. It blew up like a golf ball pretty quickly. I was in too much pain to realize what this meant. It was almost a year later, to the day, that I blew out my ACL. I had rehabbed and trained so hard to get back. Here I was, excited to be at an international competition, and I was injured before I even started. I was feeling pretty discouraged. According to USAIGC rules, if you score at least an 8.5 on any event, you automatically qualify for the World Championships, my end goal, without having to qualify through a State meet first. My chance may be gone. I was devastated once again.
A half hour or so passed and my coach and the Athletic trainer continued to check on me. Thankfully an examination determined it likely was a bad sprain, no torn ligaments or broken bones that she could initially tell. Bonnie, realizing my disappointment, offered that if was able to stand on foot with it all taped up like a cast, put pressure and take one step, and step down off of a mat, I could consider competing bars. I only had to be concerned about the dismount. If I qualified on bars, she could petition to allow me to compete in all my events at the World Championships. I liked this idea. The trainer on board with the idea, taped up my ankle, finding an ankle brace as added support. They both agreed I would have to meet those benchmarks first before they would pass me. They got permission from the judges. They would allow me to compete at the end as to give me additional time to take it slow, examining how I felt.
I slowly began to stand on my foot. There was pain, but it was manageable. My foot felt supported and in reality, I could not move it at all. I began to put pressure on it and take small steps… ouch. Was this crazy to consider? All I kept thinking was, “I’m in Bermuda. I came here to compete. They determined there are no broken bones, I won’t require surgery, how much worse can I make it? My goal is the World Championships. I have to do this.”
Over the next half hour, I figured out that as long as I stepped down on the entire foot, not executing the heel to toe motion, there was significantly less pain and I could step down off the mat. Bonnie passed me. It was a go.
My husband, my daughter and my mother-in-law all joined me in Bermuda. It also happened to be my husband’s birthday. They were so sad to see what happened. They were also pretty upset at the thought of what I was about to do.
Metal brace on one leg and soft cast-like support on the ankle of the other, I saluted the judge and performed my routine. It came time for the dismount, a flyaway. Bonnie told me beforehand, land on both feet with more pressure on the good foot, not on just one foot, so you don’t end up rolling that ankle too. I landed. OUCH, stinging pain. It wasn’t the best routine, but I did it. My score, a 7.8, which was not high enough to qualify for the World Championships.
So I had this thought. Now that I knew what it felt like to land, and knowing I wasn’t going to further hurt myself, maybe I could try to vault. It’s a stronger event for me. Since the ankle was going to take significant time to heal at this point, I’d miss the State meet. This was my chance and I had a goal.
Bonnie agreed. She would lower the vaulting horse, I would cut my run in half, and only perform one vault. I had to make it a good one. But how was the question? Saying a prayer to my guardian angels I saluted the judge and ran towards the horse. Staying focused on the end goal, I hit the board, rebounded on the horse, and landed on one foot… that’s right, I Kerri Strug’d it. The entire auditorium was screaming. It was like being in a movie. An unforgettable moment. The score came up, 8.8. I had qualified.
It took two and half months of rehab but I was back in the gym again, training for the World Championships in Orlando, Florida that June where I would compete vault, bars and floor. Practice at the event was the day before the competition. I saw Bonnie talking to someone while we were warming up bars. I would later learn it was Tony Retrosi, the owner of Atlantic Gymnastics in Portsmouth, NH. He told Bonnie about an adult gymnastics camp that is hosted at his gym twice a year suggesting I check it out. I would learn all of this after the competition was over.
I was excited and nervous the day of the competition. It had been quite a dramatic and stressful time getting to this point. But I met my goal. I was 50 years old (just shy of my 51st birthday) competing in the age 19+ group. I walked into the gym, reminiscing about the prior year and thinking my dream was gone yet again. Touched by the gift of second chances, and grateful for Bonnie and all the coaches helping me reach my goal, I decided whatever the outcome, I was going to feel like a winner. Surrounded by my family, my husband, kids, mom, dad and sister I felt so incredibly blessed to have their support. They knew how much this meant to me. They knew what it took for me to get here. And they were going to share it with me.
It wasn’t my best performance, but turned out to be good enough because I won the gold medal for all-around, qualifying for event finals. I wasn’t aware it was a two day competition. My response to Bonnie when she told me, “You mean they are letting me come back to do it again?” I woke up the next morning not feeling well. I didn’t sleep great the night before. I entered the gym and met up with Bonnie, “Your first event is floor, and you are up first” EEK. OK, game on.
Despite not feeling well, I was more relaxed and knew what to expect. I performed much better than the day before, earning me gold medals on all 3 events I competed. I was so elated sharing this moment with my family, I almost missed the awards ceremony. I cried so many tears of joy that night. More importantly, my soul was healed. No longer did I feel the loss of that trauma 35 years prior. And I was hooked. I was a competitive gymnast once again, doing this my way, on my terms, ready to set new goals.
The next morning I met up with Bonnie before heading out to go back home. Recalling seeing the man she was speaking to a couple of days prior, she told me about an adult gymnastics camp that takes place twice a year, suggesting I consider going. The next one was just a few weeks away. Maybe there was still a spot if I wanted to check it out.
Wait… there is an adult gymnastics camp? You mean there are other adults doing what I am doing? I had thought I was the only one. Able to rearrange some work commitments, there was one spot left so I grabbed it.
I was nervous walking in. Would I be able to keep up? Were the people going to be warm and welcoming? Would I fit in? I didn’t know what to expect. The first person I met was James Parent from TumblTrak, a coach there for the weekend. He welcomed me with a smile, asking me about my gymnastics journey and how I heard about camp. I immediately felt welcomed. The gymnasts started filtering in. Initiating conversations with a few, I immediately felt at home. The first day was filled with fun, new friends and great coaching which meant great gymnastics. That night, back at the hotel room when I called my husband, my description about the camp, “I found my tribe”. That is exactly how I felt. There is something so special about gymnasts. We “get” each other. Perhaps because we know how hard it is, what it takes to do what we do, and the sacrifices we all make for the sport we love. There is an instant connection when meeting another gymnast. I have made some of my closest and best friends along life’s journey through this sport. The weekend was epic. It was a wonderful balance of gymnastics, learning, fun, socializing, games, meeting new friends and a deeper sense of connection to a community of people who are so incredibly supportive of one another. I really think gymnastics can save the world!
With my prior goal met, the 2019 competition season meant setting new goals. It was certainly a year of “firsts”. This is the year I would become an all-around gymnast, competing all four events for the first time in London, England with my team girls. Another first was my very first adult competition, competing at AAU Nationals in Orlando, Florida in June. The other really big “first” for me was doing giants on the strap bar at the July 2019 gymnastics camp in Portsmouth, NH. With an initial tutorial from Tony Retrosi and coaching and spotting from Tyler Green, I got over that bar screaming with delight. It was an epic, unforgettable moment for me. Since I never learned giants as a kid, they are a major goal of mine. I wouldn’t work on them again until the winter camp that following January 2020 and have recently been playing on the strap bar at my home gym. Stay tuned for progress on that...
A series of unfortunate events ended 2019 continuing into 2020. Through my return to gymnastics as an adult, my back had not once bothered me. That changed in the late fall of 2019 for reasons I’m still not exactly sure of. It could be the nature of my back condition. My age did bring about some biological changes. Intuitively, I believe this was one trigger alongside probably overdoing and overtraining. I joke that the adult Lori is now in charge. That 16 year old girl is still there and I’m happy she is. She is my motivator. She pushes me, getting me out of my comfort zone. However, I’ve gained some wisdom over the past few years of this journey. My back condition is something I need to take very seriously, but it doesn’t have to stop me from doing what I love in life. Self care has to always be priority one.
Thankfully now my soul has been healed from the trauma of the past, I think of the bigger picture now. I want to be here for the long haul. My body loves to do gymnastics. I love to push and challenge myself. The things we are capable of are limitless. I’ve learned how to adjust my mindset and limits as I go, letting them flow like the ebb and tide.
I wasn’t sure I could compete in 2020 or continue gymnastics that year because of the back pain. Then, of course, COVID hit. And the lockdowns. This wound up being a blessing in disguise for me. It forced the rest my mind and body needed. I didn’t stress during that time, like many, if I would lose skills. I figured if I could return after 33 years, the muscle memory would be there after a few months. I did continue to strengthen and condition. That should always be priority one if you are an adult gymnast in my opinion.
Getting back at practice once the gym reopened, I took it slow initially. By the Fall, I was feeling like myself again and working on skills and upgrades in the hopes that competitions would happen. GAGE Gymnastics Center was hosting their first ever adult competition at the beginning of December. It was a stretch to think I’d be competition ready by then. As adult gymnasts, we know how limited these opportunities are. I felt it was really important to support it so there are more of them. Along with one of my other friends, we decided we would meet each other in Kansas City for the inaugural “You’re Never Too Old To Flip Out” meet. At age 61, it would be her very first competition as an adult! I was so happy to be sharing that special moment with her. It was a great weekend with fun and, of course, more new friends. It was extra special competing in such a famous gym.
This year has started out better than I hoped. My expectations were low with so much uncertainty if in-person competitions would be happening. I was pleasantly surprised to travel as much as I did competing in MegaMeet in Las Vegas this past April. I’ll go to Savannah, GA for Nationals in June, as well as participate in the zoom meet “Just Flip” with Chellsie Memmel!
Life comes with its ups and downs. As I look back on my journey, I truly believe it was meant to happen this way. If I could tell my younger 16 year old self a piece of advice, I would remind her not all storms come to disrupt your life… some come to clear your path. One bad chapter doesn’t mean your story is over. When your passions are greater than your fears and excuses, you will find a way. Maybe what happened wasn’t a setback after all. Perhaps it was just the setup I was supposed to have. Because taking the risk to go for my second chance has given me a life better than I could have imagined. Not without its struggles, tears, pain or obstacles, but I have a sport that has taught me how to face and overcome all of that. And for that I am so truly grateful.
And this is only just the beginning…
Community is such a wildly powerful thing. Let’s live together in community supporting & empowering one another as we lead with kindness every day.
- The Silver Lining by Serena Pergola
And that, my friends, proves that none of us are alone in this journey. Gymnasts do, in fact, have an incredibly special connection. Let’s lean into that connection and support one another within our Train Like a Gymnast community. Become a part of the #TLAGteam today!
Until next time,
Xo- Serena