Page 86 of The Comeback Summer

“Where should we start?” Adam asks, his eyes shining with excitement.

I scan the room from corner to corner, searching for anything that might be easy. My eyes land on a group of brightly colored shapes—circles and squares that look like they’re meant to be jumped on, from one to the other. They’re not as high as the steps by the river that Hannah and I practice going up and down for our training, and the foamish material looks a lot more forgiving than the concrete.

“How about those?” I suggest, pointing.

Adam turns to look in the direction I’m indicating, and his smile fades. “I... uh... I think that’s the kids’ section.”

“Oh,” I say, hoping my face doesn’t look as red as it feels. “Suppose there’s an age and weight limit on those.”

I cringe, annoyed at myself for calling attention to my Achilles’ heel. Luckily, Adam doesn’t seem to notice.

“How about the balance beam?” he suggests. “Ease our way into the hard stuff.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” I agree, even though my throat constricts at the thought of “hard stuff.”

The balance beam, it turns out, is not one of the solid, immovable kinds that I remember from the gymnastics birthday parties of my childhood. This one has a fulcrum in the middle so the beam rises and falls as you walk across it.

“Want to go first?” Adam asks.

“Sure,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t reveal my nerves.

I take my time, squaring myself up in front of the beam, hoping the yoga Hannah and I have been doing has been helping my core and balance.

Kids do this all the time, I remind myself. It can’t be that hard. Then again, it’s easy to be fearless when you’re young and have no idea how much there is to be afraid of.

Stop it, Libby.

I take a deep breath and think back to the quote on this morning’s page in the journal.Outer strength comes from inner strength.It’s almost like Lou knew where I would be at this moment in my journey.

I glance back at Adam, who gives me a reassuring smile. Then, with the wisdom of Lou in my mind, I take the first step out of my comfort zone and onto the balance beam. My legs wobble, and I instinctively bring my hands up to steady myself.

Once my feet feel stable, I move one foot in front of the other, walking up along with the slope of the beam. Before I know it, I’m halfway across, ready for the descent.

“You’ve got this,” I hear Adam say from behind me, where he’swatching at the end of the balance beam. I’m suddenly aware he’s behind me. As in, staring at my behind. I reflexively squeeze my butt cheeks, wishing these leggings weren’t so formfitting.

The thought derails me, and I sway before steadying myself. I’m hyperaware of my body as I put one foot in front of the other, leaping off the end of the beam.

“Nice!” Adam says, his voice full of what feels like undeserved pride.

We do the balance beam a few more times walking straight, then sideways. The last time, it’s actually fun, and I find myself speed walking along the beam, jumping off at the end with a silly flourish.

As we head to the next activity, I realize that new things might just be scary simply because they’re new. My training this summer has included so many things I thought I couldn’t do—when in reality, I was just afraid to try. But once you’ve done it—and know youcando it—the fear no longer has power over you.

I want to take that power back.

Over the next thirty minutes, I make a conscious effort to focus on my inner strength and not my inner scaredy-cat. Adam and I take turns leaping down a row of slanted boards facing each other; it’s almost like jumping from boulder to boulder. By the last time we sprint across, my feet are barely grazing the boards, hopping from one to the next.

We then decide to conquer a crazy wall-scaling challenge that looks like it could be one of the obstacles at the Down & Dirty. The two blue walls face each other, just a few feet between them. I insist that Adam go first so I can watch how he does it.

I’m almost giddy with excitement as Adam makes arunning start, jumps on the trampoline, and lands midway up the wall, with one foot propping him up on either side of the narrow way. He makes it look easy as he uses his hands for support, moving his feet as he straddles the space between the two walls until he jumps down on the other side.

“That was insane,” he says, running back around to the side where I’m trying to pump myself up. The space between the walls is so narrow, I hope it’s wide enough for me to make it through. I will literally die of embarrassment if I get stuck. I have a sudden flash of paramedics sawing the wall in half to break me free. Or lathering me with butter so they can slide me out.

“Once you’re up there, it’s second nature,” Adam says, clearly sensing my nerves. “Your body will know what to do.”

“But getting up there...”

“Want to watch me do it one more time?”

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