Tonight I'm on the tumble track at open gym. Outstandingly angry music blares from all corners and I drum my fingers against my stomach like I know these songs. Like they'll amp me up.
I'm a little nervous for this tumbling pass. The worst thing that could happen is that I'll fall on my head on the large squishy mat at the end, which isn't a horrible consequence. But for a hot moment my palms sweat. I drum off the sweat, raise my arms, think of what Flo Davies would say: Handle it! And I tumble away.