THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Monday, August 14, 1995 TAG: 9508130104
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E1 EDITION: FINAL
SERIES: FIGHTING THE AIR
Alexis Brion of Virginia Beach is a world-class gymnast at the age of
12. The Virginian-Pilot is following Alexis through the summer with an
occasional series of stories, as she works toward the August meet that
will determine her national ranking for the coming year.
SOURCE: BY DIANE TENNANT, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Long : 168 lines
AN ANGEL RIDES on Alexis Brion's shoulder. Sometimes two angels.
Guardian angel pins that have become a tradition, from mom to daughter on the eve of competition.
At Denver's Olympic Festival in July, a painted metal angel was pinned to Alexis' leotard, inscribed with the words ``Aim High.'' Alexis won a gold medal.
Perhaps it is an angel's influence that has also protected Alexis from the physical and mental traumas that plague many female gymnasts. Perhaps it is careful coaching. Perhaps she is just too young, at age 12, to have experienced unwanted weight gain and the fractured bones that can come when puberty is delayed by intense exercise and poor nutrition. Whatever the reason, world-class gymnastics, heaven knows, means a grueling schedule and a physical pounding. And although the sport is called ``women's gymnastics,'' it is manifested in a child's body.
The heat wave smothered Gymstrada's Kempsville gym on July 25, resisting the paltry attempts of floor fans to keep the training center bearable. Towels stiffened in the freezer quickly became limp around sweaty necks. Everyone ignored the sign banning drinks from the gym floor.
``The heat index is supposed to be 110 to 115,'' one gymnast commented, as she strapped on hand grips for the uneven parallel bars.
``Hundred and 10,'' replied her companion.
``No, 110 to 115. I heard it twice on the radio.''
Alexis took a deep breath and flung herself over the uneven bars. ``Unh!'' she gasped once. ``Oh!'' as she sat down, hard, on her dismount.
Teammate Cory Fritzinger missed a release move and flew backward into a mat hanging on the wall. Alexis tried, and smacked her back into the same mat. Katie McFarland fell out of a handstand.
``Alexis, you gotta go earlier, hon,'' called coach Jim Walker. ``Katie, that's not what I want to see.''
Another girl walked by, wearing a belly band proclaiming ``No pain, no gain.''
No joke.
Women's gymnastics has been criticized in recent years for high injury rates as stunts have become more and more dangerous, and for eating disorders as teens try to fight off the weight gains and body curves of puberty. It gained unwanted notoriety in 1994 when gymnast Christy Henrich died of anorexia, weighing less than 50 pounds. Gymnastics judges have intensified the danger, critics say, by awarding the highest scores to girls without breasts or hips, tiny girls whose feather weight of less than 90 pounds makes it easier to defy gravity. The problem, critics say, is that nature intends teenage girls to grow heavier and rounder as they age, and women's gymnastics, by emphasizing lighter and straighter, is battling biology.
Alexis, whether by influence of angel or age, has been spared both injury and weight problems. She can eat anything she wants. Filet mignon is a favorite. But she has also learned to count fat grams and, although she eats ice cream whenever she likes, Alexis is more likely to choose fruit over a candy bar for a snack.
So far, at 65 pounds, she can fight the air with the best of them. In New Orleans this week, she will try to retain or better her No. 2 national ranking in the junior category.
``The coaches don't like the girls to be big, and the judges are not going to give good scores to big girls,'' says Laura Brion, Alexis' mom. ``Gymnastics is not just skills, it's also what you look like.''
But Laura is not overly concerned with what Alexis looks like. She is concerned with what she feels like. Any time gymnastics ceases to be fun, Laura says, Alexis can quit. In fact, it's been asked several times at the Brion household, whenever Alexis complains about the schedule or being tired: Do you want to quit? But Alexis always goes back. Even on the hot days.
On July 25, Alexis finished her bar practice and headed for the balance beam. She paused to let a fan ruffle her ponytail, then climbed up. Routine. Routine. Routine.
Annie Jenkins, who hopes to join the elite ranks at Gymstrada, was trying to watch, but her eyeglasses kept sliding down her sweaty nose, despite the headband. Annie, 11, held an ice pack on her left wrist, aching from tendinitis despite a cortisone shot.
Alexis hopped off the beam onto the blue floor-mat, where her sweaty feet left footprints. In the heat, they didn't stand a chance. The footprints evaporated into thin air, invisible, like an angel.
The commentators for Home Team Sports were amazed when gymnast/competitor Kerri Strug cheered for Alexis at the Olympic Festival. They captured it on film.
But Kerri, who at 14 was the youngest American gymnast at the Barcelona Olympics three years ago, had suffered some sports-related injuries. Alexis and Katie had given her an angel pin to help her over the rough spots. So she cheered as Alexis tumbled her way to gold in Denver.
Road trips are always enlightening, says Gymstrada coach Deena Baker. Some of the things we see, she says, shaking her head.
They see gymnasts limited to a single pretzel for lunch by weight-conscious coaches. They see gymnasts forced to compete with torn muscles. And they see looks of amazement when they describe the Thursday routine at Gymstrada.
Fruit-and-vegetable day, they call it. At least seven varieties, and each girl must at least taste them all. On Aug. 3, there were two long tables full of banquet trays, heaped with pineapple, grapes, melon, broccoli, blueberries and more. The girls ate their fill at lunch.
In the evening, on their dripping way between cold swimming pool and steaming sauna, the gymnasts carried plates full of cucumbers, carrots, hearts of palm and kiwi. The Swedish bath routine is hailed by the Soviets, Baker says, and unheard of at other American gyms.
Gymstrada also hopes to keep its athletes healthy through the free services of chiropractor Gary Detweiler, who checks for spinal alignment and joint flexibility, and who tries, Baker says, to keep injuries like tendinitis from becoming chronic. The coaches are seeking a professional masseuse. And on Aug. 3, the staff exercise physiologist started measuring body fat on the elites, pinching considerably less than an inch on their thighs, backs and arms with calipers.
``Starting tomorrow, you girls are to keep a notebook of everything you eat and drink,'' Baker instructed. ``I want to make sure you're getting enough, or not too much. We're gonna check for balanced diets.
``We believe in taking care of our athletes and teaching them how to become healthy adults. Our sport's had enough bad times with eating disorders. That's ridiculous.''
Alexis says she once knew a coach who put tacks in the vault, to teach gymnasts - the hard way - not to hit too far back. She says he put electric fans under the balance beam to ``encourage'' girls not to fall off, and he once locked a gymnast in the bathroom for three hours as punishment. Fortunately, she says, he was fired from the gym where he worked before he tried those tactics on her.
Women's gymnastics has taken some hard raps for abuse, most recently in the book ``Little Girls in Pretty Boxes,'' which alleges mental, verbal and physical abuse by some of the sport's best-known coaches.
Baker acknowledges that sometimes the Gymstrada coaches push, that sometimes they provoke tears.
But Alexis' mom says the coaches are personal friends. ``If I ever thought they mistreated her, I'd yank her out,'' Laura says. ``It's a mystery, why parents let abuse happen.
``I've not been happy with gymnastics sometimes, but that's why you have a mouth, so you can fix it.''
Some of the Gymnstrada elites are so driven to excel by their own personalities that the coaches have to hold them back, to keep them from hurting themselves.
During the July 25 workout, Walker ordered one gymnast to help Katie with five, and only five, exercise repeats, as a way of enforcing that she must follow his directions and not push herself too hard.
``If you want to get what YOU want, you'd better do what WE tell you,'' he told her. ``If your coach says do 17 forward rolls for your floor routine, you'd better point your toes.''
Laura Brion is looking for just the right angel to tumble with Alexis this week at the 1995 National Gymnastics Championships in New Orleans. She might slip the angel unnoticed into a suitcase, or she might hand it to Alexis in a card on the way to the airport. She might find another way to present it.
But an angel there will be. For Alexis, though blessed with talent, still needs protection in a sport as potentially harmful as women's gymnastics. ILLUSTRATION: TAMARA VONINSKI/
Staff
Alexis Brion, 12, listens to instructions from one of her coaches on
flexibility stretching during a practice session at Kempsville's
Gymstrada gym.
Despite the heat during practice, Alexis is cool above the balance
beam.
TAMARA VONINSKI/
Staff
Alexis Brion, center, rests in a sauna eating fruit with friends
Katie McFarland, left, and Cory Fritzinger at Kempsville's Gymstrada
gym. The Swedish bath routine is unheard of at other American gyms.
by CNB