They don't call it Gym-nice-tics

On Friday we went to the end of year display for the boys' gymnastics classes. We got to see the kids working through each of the various pieces of equipment and a little floor routine as well.  It was most impressive. The boys absolutely adore doing gymnastics. They've done about half a year and their progress has been amazing. Climber is a superstar at the uneven parallel bars, owing to his years of dedicated training on the monkey bars. Sadly though, according to Nell, he won't be able to compete in this at Olympic Level because it is a Female Event only. As for Cherub, he is a great somersaulter and even the dreaded I'll never be able to do cartwheels are coming along.

Next week it's Bring A Friend To Gym day. Last term they had Bring Your Dad To Gym, and Fixit was a game participant but rather sore and sorry the next day. His speciality was push-ups,  well, compared to the other Dads in his group. And he distinguished himself by doing a spectacular bellyflop when he misjudged his angle of bounce on the mini-tramp and shot off like a rocket forwards instead of up, which was partly frightening and partly hilarious. We joined too late in the year for me to try my hand at Bring Your Mum to Gym day, but I am dead keen - and that is even though my friend Astrid came to grief when she did it, sustaining damage to her foot, which would be disastrous in my line of work - based on the fact I can still turn a neat cartwheel and have competitive tendencies. Not when it comes to push-ups though.

I was slightly dismayed by the number of injuries occurring at what is basically the end of year concert, possibly because my tap's school equivalent is looming next week. I'm not sure I could keep going on if I had so many hurt kids in a performance, but these gymnastic coaches are hardcore, they just give the kid an icepack and the show goes on.