it's not just a sport.

not having time for other sports, because gymnastics, doesn't have a season.
it's only getting 4 weeks off a year, and doing push-ups for any other time you miss.
leaving right after school, and not being home again until around 7:30, almost every day.
in the summer waking up extra early to be at the gym early for extra workouts.
too many late nights staying up to finish homework. because that's the only time you have.
trying your hardest to get good grades, because you can't let your coaches down.
the days that push you to your limit and make you break down in tears.
constantly being in pain, and being sore has just become a part of life.
finishing a hard day of bars and not being able to grasp anything.
blood blisters, stained grips, and ripping ridiculous size chunks of skin off your hands.
then cringing trying to wash your hair, hold eating utensils or write.
drinking ridiculous amounts of water but still never enough.
keeping the windows and doors open during workouts even when it's only 16* outside.
using more chapstick on your hands then you do on your lips.
checking your six pack every time you walk past a mirror to be sure it's still there.
it's a miracle when you find a blazer that fits because your shoulders are to broad for most.
not being able to find jeans that fit because your thighs are basically the same size as your waist, and no pair of skinnies will go over your calves.
it's being like everyone else and not shaving your legs in the winter, even if you live in spandex.
age doesn't matter at the gym, because your all best friends anyway. 
people give up asking you to hang out cause chances are, you're at gym.
going late to hangout on weekends because once again you were at the gym.
teammates become your family, and coaches are like second moms.
the gym is your favorite place, because there, nothing else matters, except for nailing that trick or routine.
and the distinct smell of feet, chalk and sweat, doesn't even phase you anymore.
having hands that are rougher than your feet.
touching your toes is effortless and doing your homework in the splits.
critiquing cheerleaders tumbling without even realizing it.
dreaming about your routines and constantly running them through your head on competition days.
having more ribbons, medals, and t-shirts than you know what to do with.
eating healthy because you know you won't be able to work out to your full potential tomorrow if you don't. but still eating absolutely anything and everything.
spinning and pirouetting around the kitchen in socks, always standing on your toes, and constantly walking on your hands or doing cartwheels.
you spend more time in a leotard than in regular clothes, and sports bras are fine because you're all flat anyway.
feeling as though you have the back of an octagenarian, and knowing it will never be the same.
experiencing to many beam burns, and regularly having to tape your ankles.
beating the guys at arm wrestling and knowing girl push-ups aren't even an option.
it's going to a meet and that feeling when they put the first place medal around your neck.
and knowing that all the pain, and sacrificed time. was worth it.

it's everything.
looking back over the years.
and seeing how it's shaped you.
(hah. not only physically.) 
but how it's truly become a part of you.

because it's not just a sport, it's a lifestyle.