to cheer or not to cheer

I never thought I’d ever have to ask myself this question. Since freshman year of high school (actually a little before then) I have been a cheerleader. With the exception of the month of April, which was between the end of competition season and tryouts for the next year, I cheered pretty much all the time. I mean, look at my screenname! *laugh* Cheerleading was akin to breathing for me–just one of those things you do without thinking too much about it. Until it stops, that is.

This past year, because of the fact that I didn’t go to school for the fall semester, I didn’t cheer. But when I came back in the Spring, I got back in touch with my coach, who said that he’d let me know when he was starting to get things ready for the new fall season.

Well I got an email last week. And all of a sudden I found myself wondering if I really wanted to cheer this year. Yes, I remember the fun times. Game days… finally getting that stunt you’d been working on for ages… Sunday afternoon tumbling practice… going out for dinner and movies when you have a day off… working at competitions to raise funds… random parties and laughing and ‘girl talk’.

But I also remember running for a half an hour before every practice. I remember sprints and pushups every time we dropped a stunt. I remember even more sprints if you didn’t smile just right at the game, or forgot a motion to a cheer. I remember conditioning–sitting on an invisible chair with your back against a wall until you thought your legs were going to fall off… I remember actually bursting into tears from the pain and being told to ‘suck it up and do it again’

I remember being told that I needed to lose weight

In high school it seemed like the good bits of cheerleading always outweighed the bad bits. In college there’s a lot more good bits. But there are also a lot more bad bits. And the bad bits are looking pretty bad.

Not to mention the fact that, not having cheered for a year, I’ve learned that no, it isn’t really like breathing. I can survive without cheerleading–something I’d not reccommend trying with breathing.

And life goes on.