Steadying my hands beside me, I tiptoed on a ledge in front of the judges.
This was a moment I had been practicing for hours, days, and weeks, only I wasn’t nervous.
I lived and breathed everything gymnastics – the beam was one of my favourites in particular.
After training seven days a week, an hour away from my school, it felt like a balancing act trying to juggle my education, hobbies, and life.
Only, at eight years old, my mum Julie, and dad Phil, were more than happy to ferry me around to all my classes.
My little brother Daniel, being dragged along, too.
And it stayed that way for years.
Becoming an elite gymnast at the age of 1 5, I was used to our routine.
Breakfast, GC…
