The Blessing in Disguise
A couple weeks ago we heard from a TLAG community member about the fruition of her love for the sport of gymnastics. Today, we continue that story which is a true culmination of normalizing adult gymnastics and shifting gymnastics culture. Well, let’s jump back in….
Feature Story Part 2 with Lori Vollkommer
It was November 16, 1983. The conference championships were held at Copiague High School. I was warming up uneven bars. In those days, it was the “belly beats”. Each athlete had their own setting, but for warm-ups they put the bars on the farthest and highest setting. This meant accommodating for the distance in transitioning from low bar to high bar during warm ups would require a bit extra after releasing the low bar. Caught up in the adrenaline of the competition to come, I barely caught the high bar and swung off the bars, crashing to the ground and hearing a “crunch” in my lower back. I was instantaneously in immense pain and had knocked the wind out of myself. I don’t remember much after that. I do faintly remember competing the entire meet, including my round off backhandspring full twisting layout on those wrestling mats and I qualified for the County Championship. But, of course, I never got to compete at that meet.
The news came in the days that followed… spinal fracture at L5, S1. A body cast would provide only a 50/50 chance of healing. Regardless, NO MORE GYMNASTICS… EVER. I was numb at the news. My parents didn’t like the idea of a body cast, those odds weren’t good enough. They took me to the chiropractor I’d been seeing since age 13. He concurred, NO MORE GYMNASTICS… EVER. Instead of stepping into the gym numerous times a week, I began stepping into the chiropractor’s office three days a week for traction and treatment.
I lost my friends. I lost my second family. I lost my escape and safe place. I lost a part of my soul. It felt as though a piece of me had died and I was in mourning. Who was I without gymnastics? What does a 16 year old do with all this “extra” time? My solution, don’t think about it and try to be a “normal” teenager. But, of course, this didn’t work very well.
You see, what you don’t care of, takes care of you. I thought if I tried to just move on, or forget that part of my life, I’d be okay, but when the feelings get stuffed, they WILL and DO come out in other ways. Some for the better, some for the worse.
I carried the trauma with me for the next three plus decades. I lost touch completely with the sport in knowing (for the most part) the top gymnasts. I could not watch the World Championships or the Olympics without sobbing. It was just too emotionally painful.
Life went on. Bobby and I married in August of 1990. We started our family and had three children in 1995, 1996 and 2000. You can bet, old habits die hard and they all went into gymnastics. I started “Mommy and me” with each of them at GymNation NY. They all loved the sport and had natural talent, but eventually decided to pursue other interests in sports and music. I did, however, get exercise back into my life post-pregnancies.
But that fateful day in 1983 defined me as a person, as a mother, as a wife. I decided I would support my children in a way that helped them realize their full potential. I taught them the work ethic that gymnasts know so well. Their own sports activities molded their discipline, determination, self-confidence and belief that success doesn’t come without also experiencing failure. There is such a deep desire to do better that is ingrained in my DNA. My children have that too. I am so very proud of the young adults they have become.
My loss always lingered inside me though. I awoke one morning in the fall of 2013. I had several lumps on my breasts. We had still been recovering financially from the devastation of the 2008 financial crisis. Besides my regular administrative duties with our construction company and managing a vacation rental and all the retirement assets in our self-directed 401K Plan, I began working at Cornucopia Natural Foods in Sayville. The health food store started by my mom in 1976. She was so ahead of her time, bringing health and wellness and the “you are what you eat” mentality to our family. The business, now owned by my brother and as large as a supermarket, still employs many family members. I began working there to upgrade to computers. all the book-keeping and human resource stuff. I was working well over 50 hours a week while simultaneously raising a family and by the spring of 2013 knew I could not continue this way. I had no quality of life. But the only true paycheck I was earning, as well as health care coverage, was coming from Cornucopia. I didn’t want to let down my mom, but it was the only logical thing to let go. So I gave my notice and decided my health had to be first. Thankfully the lumps in my breasts turned out to be cysts, but it definitely was a wake up call. My soul was guiding me in another direction. I just didn’t know which direction quite yet.
Several weeks later, on November 16, 2013, marked the 30th anniversary of my career-ending injury. Coincidentally (or a God-incidence as I like to call it) my daughter was playing her flute and piccolo in a performance that happened to be at the very same school that I had fallen in the competition.
Yes, it blew my mind to be walking the same hallways I walked the day my life changed forever. What could be the significance to this? How crazy this all seemed to me! I knew there had to be a deeper meaning and I decided that perhaps I should plan a ritual to say a final goodbye to gymnastics. After 30 years, the raw tears still came up from time to time. I decided it was an opportunity to say a proper farewell for closure. I would bring balloons, lots of tissues, and get permission from the security guard to go into the gym and have a moment and get some closure.
I expected to start bawling. I expected to feel a flood of emotions. I expected to feel something.
I walked into the gym and was surprised at how much smaller it seemed. I pictured where each piece of equipment was set up. I envisioned that bars warm up, the subsequent fall and trauma to my soul. Still I felt nothing. I was shocked. This was so anti-climatic. It was the 30 year anniversary. I didn’t know what to make of it.
A walk on a beach a month later gave me a clue.
Then another fateful incident happened in the spring of 2014. I was running out my front door and slipped on the ice falling onto my concrete walkway landing on my back and hearing a familiar “crunch”. I would not know it yet, but had fractured the same vertebrae, opposite side. My second son had fractured his vertebrae a month prior at a wrestling meet. I had been taking him to a facility that specializes in his diagnosis, spondylolisthesis. He was getting significantly better with Physical Therapy and chiropractic together. I was not feeling better with my local chiropractor and as it turned out I was initially misdiagnosed with a bulging disk by the radiologist that read my MRI. I decided to get a second opinion with my son’s care team. This decision changed my life forever.
Bringing my films with me to the appointment, Dr. Stephen Seroli, Chiropractor evaluated and examined me. His response, “I think I know what is wrong, but before I say anything, I want you to get another X-ray with a different angle”. The diagnosis: grade 2 ½ spondylolisthesis at L5, S1.
No wonder I was in pain and not feeling better. My parents don’t remember if this was the diagnosis told to them in 1983, but it was clear that is what happened at age 16 as well. Now here I was, again. What an incredible blessing in disguise that would turn out to be.
I rehabbed with my son for two years with PT and chiropractic. After about 8 months, I returned to my regular exercise activities of pilates and TRX. I got so strong during this time. So many skills in pilates and TRX remind me of gymnastics. Holding in hollow body movements and technique even occasional handstands in the TRX straps and many more.
Dr. Seroli (Doc as I affectionately call him) and Russ, my Physical Therapist and mental coach most of the time, knew my gymnastics story. One day, Doc said to me, “Lori, you should go find a facility that allows adults. You can do gymnastics. You are strong and now know how to care for yourself with this condition. You should go play”. Being the “we will figure out a way” guy that Russ is, he agreed.
But I was hesitant. There was underlying fear. What if I couldn’t find a gym and was let down again. What if I couldn’t do any skills and felt disappointed in myself. What if the pull of family and work/life responsibilities get in the way and I have to once again let go of something I love so deeply. What if my back started to hurt or I couldn’t trust my body to work and I had to leave the sport again, feeling devastated and reliving the loss.
Then in TRX class one morning and during a particularly emotional situation in my life, this overwhelming inner nudge and voice spoke to me….”Lori, it’s time. You must pursue this.” I’ve learned to trust my intuition. What if taking the next step gave me something so wonderful, and by letting the fear win, I lose. This nudge was too strong to ignore and so I leaned in.
It took some time to find a gym about 45 minutes away that advertised open gym for ages 16 and older. It was primarily parkour, but it was a start. This just felt right… and it turns out it was absolutely right. Arriving that first night, I sat in the parking lot, butterflies in my stomach, I was afraid to go inside for fear of being judged. I had visions of young teenage girls, snickering, “Who is this old lady and what is she doing here?” My family knew how excited I was and what it meant for me to go. Reaching out to them in that moment, they provided the encouragement I needed. I opened the door, got out of my car, and headed inside.
Greeted by that all-too-familiar gym smell, I was welcomed by the owner who had me fill out some forms and gave me the rundown. Feel free to do what I choose. If I need a spot just ask. A spot... well yeah, I thought. I’m not even sure I can do a cartwheel! It’s been 33 years! I briefly told him my story. He was very supportive, encouraging me to go for a round off, back-hand-spring which he would spot.
It felt easy - I almost forgot all about my back - it felt wonderful. The next one I did on my own. This was crazy! In the weeks that followed, I ventured over to bars. I tried a kip. To my surprise, I got up my first try! So I tried connecting some skills. I even jumped up to high-bar. Wow, it was much higher at age 49. I had a similar experience on beam. Cartwheel - stick, handstands - stick. “Muscle memory is a real thing”, I thought. I was on my way….
This continued for several weeks. It was so exhilarating and FUN. My body felt good. More importantly, my back felt strong. Then I had this crazy thought that quickly turned to a burning desire. “I wonder if I can compete again? Before my 50th birthday… that would be so cool.” Reality set in quickly and I began to question: Were adults even allowed to compete? How would I accomplish this? I’d have to find a coach AND a facility that accepted adults. It was so hard to find this open gym. How would I find a coach too? It seemed an impossible task.
Anyone who knows me knows, I believe anything is possible, there are only obstacles to overcome. And thus, my search began.
The first step was to research on the internet. I couldn’t find any age ‘limit’ on USAG rules, only age minimum. My excitement grew. Several phone calls to gyms asking some questions were not successful. One suggested perhaps a private lesson but didn’t call me back. Hmmm, I hadn’t considered that. Then another idea came to me. Why not pay a visit to Bonnie at Gym Nation NY in Riverhead where I took my kids? She didn’t know my story. I hoped once she heard it would open up some possibilities.
Popping into the gym one afternoon, she recognized my voice talking to the receptionist. I told her what I was looking to do. I almost burst into tears and out of my skin when she said not only can adults compete, USAIGC hosts a World Championships at the end of each competing season. If I qualified, I could go! First step, let’s do a private lesson to assess my skills. I went home with the lesson scheduled while being filled with the same excitement and determination I had as a 16 year old teenager.
World Championships!? I would never have dreamt something so awesome as a kid! This could be better than I imagined! I was about to find out just how true that really was. My adult gymnastics journey was about to begin....
It proved that I could leave the past behind and re-enter this world in a new way. It also proved that the sport of gymnastics is not what failed me, rather the culture of gymnastics is what drove me to dark places. Lastly, it proved that I could once again fall in love with this sport and I didn’t have to be a gymnast to do so.
- The Silver Lining by Serena Pergola
In just a couple of weeks we will hear how Lori shocked, and continues to shock, the world with her incredible adult gymnastics journey. You won’t want to miss it so be sure to join us!
Until next time,
Xo- Serena