For the past 21 years, I've been a gymnast.
My mother began teaching me when I was barely
old enough to walk.
I quickly moved into the world of competition, and I loved it.
For 17 of those 21 years I competed in club gymnastics,
and for the past four years, I've
been a member of the University of Utah gymnastics team.
While on the U of U's team, I was
able to travel to many different places, meet new people,
create some of my most favorite memories,
and accomplish my lifelong dreams, both individually
and as a team.
It's important to mention the differences between club
gymnastics and college gymnastics.
They are in many ways as different as night and day.
For example, in college gymnastics
it's a lot less forgiving than club.
You might not have a great practice on the college level
and could not be competing that following weekend.
So the pressure is significantly greater.
These differences require change.
And these changes are not gradual; they come all at once.
I was fortunate enough, my last three years at the U,
to compete in all four events, but I could've been taken out
or put back in at any moment, just
depending on what the coaches thought was best for the team.
So you must be ready not only physically
but mentally to deliver perfection.
Fortunately, early on in these competitive years,
I developed the habit of praying.
I would pray to perform to the best of my ability,
to avoid serious injury, and to remember and uphold
the values I was taught at home.
I want to say that I always had the support
of my amazing husband and family,
but I needed the power and the peace that
came from connecting with God, and I relied heavily
on that connection.
I used it every day, from the moment
I started warm-ups until I opened the door to leave.
I found that the more I relied on that habit of connecting
with God, I was able to truly see the benefit it
had on every aspect of my life.
Competing in college gymnastics is such a thrill,
especially at the University of Utah's Huntsman Center that
draws in 15,000-plus fans to every home meet.
Competing in front of that many fans can be scary
and can carry a lot of pressure.
During these college competitions,
many people would notice that I talked a lot to myself.
And commentators would always say
that they could see me giving myself mental cues.
But I was actually praying.
It became so much a part of my routine
that my prayers became my spiritual cues
that I would mix in with my normal mental cues,
along with those that my coaches had given me.
Having this connection grounded me.
It made me realize that what I was learning
was bigger than just gymnastics.
The day would come when I would need this perspective.
In May of this year, my team qualified to the NCAA National
Championships.
To reach the national championships,
we had to first compete in a regional competition at LSU
and be in the top two of every team competing
at that regionals.
The second day of competition, I had one
of the best meets of my life.
I just felt on.
So going into nationals, I was feeling very confident.
When the first meet day came, I was ready.
Being a senior, I was determined not
to have this be my last day of gymnastics ever.
If we were not in the top two of every team of that session,
we would not be moving on.
So I was going to do everything in my power
to make sure we made it to the next day of competition.
We started on floor, and I had a great routine.
I did one of the best vaults of my life.
My bar routine was about as good as I could do it.
Then we went to beam, our last event for the day.
We knew we had to have one of the best rotations we
had had all season.
At that moment, the longest I had ever
been away from gymnastics was five days in a row.
So I was internally freaking out a little bit.
I did not want this to be my last gymnastics routine,
and that thought dominated my thinking.
I don't quite remember what happened, but I fell.
I fell in front of thousands of people.
I fell competing for the national championship.
I fell on a skill I'd been performing
since I was in seventh grade.
And yet here I was.
That fall would become the end of my last-ever gymnastics
routine.
I would never compete again.
To say I was devastated does not even come close.
I had trained for 21 years for my ending to be a failure.
After my routine, I saluted, gave my teammates high fives,
and went behind the curtain and began to sob.
One of my teammates came with me to try and comfort me.
I remember just sitting there feeling so devastated.
I could not get it through my head
that this is how my gymnastics career was ending.
I started to pray because of the habit
I had developed over the years, and I
had a sudden moment of clarity right
there, that night in that arena.
It was like I had a glimpse into the future.
I could see myself helping a young gymnast
through a similar situation and helping
my future daughter in her own life
through the lessons I had learned.
And that great lesson is that it's not our low moments
that define us, but how we improve from all the moments we
experience, both high and low.
I could've remained devastated and ended my gymnastics career
on a bitter note.
But I was helped, through the habit of prayer,
to decide to learn from it and to make it a positive.
I choose to focus on not what happened,
but on what can happen.
So what is my message, as a nine-time all-American
with two perfect 10s, voted the University
of Utah's female athlete of the year,
and the 2018 PAC 12 vault champion?
It is that all those honors and all those accomplishments
have not taught me as much as falling and turning to God has.
Thank you.
[APPLAUSE]