Off Balance: A Memoir (28 page)

Chapter 12

ENTER MIKE CANALES

W
ho would have thought that the boy I bumped into in the hospitality room at the 1994 US Nationals would end up being the man I’d marry? I was only twelve years old and he was sixteen at the time, so it was merely the start of what would evolve into a long yet persistent love story.

I had just won my first All-Around title at the Junior Nationals in Nashville, Tennessee, and my coaches Alexander Alexandrov and Jackie McCarter and I were over the moon
with the victory. The following day during the men’s competition, I made my way to the hospitality room, a private place where gymnasts can rest or grab something to eat between events. I was done competing and my next objective was to get some food in my stomach. I’d barely eaten that past week preparing for the meet. I was so focused on grabbing snacks that, at first, I didn’t notice my future husband pacing around the room. Michael Brian Canales stood about 5' 5" with a thin, lean physique—the typical build of a male gymnast in the 1990s.

“How ya doing?” I asked, surprising myself by striking up a conversation so easily.

“I’m okay,” he replied quietly and without much enthusiasm. I could see that he was preoccupied and figured he had his mind on the men’s competition, which was still going on in the main gym.

“Well, hang in there!” I said, looking him straight in the eye, giving him my best “you’ll be all right” look of supportive confidence. I spoke with conviction, like I was a coach or some kind of expert. I could see the wheels in Mike’s brain turning as he looked down at me, wondering who was this four-foot pipsqueak giving
him
a pep talk. I looked more like someone’s kid sister than a fellow gymnast. He looked at me for another few seconds and then smiled warmly before turning toward the door.

Mike and I still laugh about that first meeting, both amazed at my gumption considering how sheltered and timid I was at the time. There I was, trying to counsel and advise a boy four years my senior. Turned out that Mike had gone into the hospitality room that day to clear his head. He was competing against some of his longtime gymnastics idols for the first time at Nationals that day and was feeling a little overwhelmed. He had no idea who that supportive little kid was, but I ended up providing him with a bit of perspective … and a smile. Apparently, someone pointed me out to Mike later as the winner of the women’s All-Around, which we
also laugh about now—“So that kid really did know a thing or two about gymnastics.”

Mike and I eventually had a proper introduction and became friendly as we crossed paths at a number of gymnastics meets and exhibitions over the next four years. The visits were intermittent and never long enough. We’d get a chance to talk and catch up on gymnastics and then we’d have to say good-bye. He was so down to earth, kind, and respectful to everyone, and I always looked forward to seeing him. His generous spirit and genuine concern for others was quite an inspiration. Due to training and travel schedules, it’s difficult for most Elite gymnasts to keep in touch with one another, and it was especially challenging for me as I had no downtime leading up to the Olympics. Also, this time predated Twitter, Facebook, and teenagers toting cell phones and laptops in their backpacks, so staying in touch was a lot more challenging. I did see Mike after the Olympics when our Magnificent Seven tour stopped in his hometown of Columbus, Ohio. He was the local guest gymnast who performed with us that evening and I still have a photo of the two of us that was taken after the show. In that photo, you can see that Mike is wearing an old US Nationals T-shirt—a red shirt with my picture on it.

I never was able to spend long periods of time with Mike, but each time we saw each other, we just picked up where we left off. Quick conversations in passing were really all there was time for, but I always enjoyed seeing him, however briefly. It was almost as if destiny kept bringing us back together, but I was still young and it would be some time yet before I developed feelings for him that went beyond friendship.

We reconnected at the US National Championships in 1998. I was still clueless about romance at that time and, to me, he was a special friend whom I wanted as my pen pal. I remember sitting at my desk when I returned from Nationals and writing Mike a
short note on a smiley face notepad a fan had gifted me. Years later, Mike surprised me by pulling that same smiley notecard out of a box of belongings. He had guarded that first piece of mail alongside his other treasured things for years, and that touched me to no end.

I next saw Mike during the summer of 2001 and by then, I felt like a different person. I had been through hell with my family, suffered sidelining injuries, and veered down a dangerous path of alcohol and drugs to try to mask my pain. I viewed people and life in general through a whole different lens. I remember I was sunbathing in between camp sessions at the International Gymnastics Camp (IGC) summer camp in the Poconos in Pennsylvania when Mike appeared out of nowhere. I looked up from my towel by the pool and saw him standing over me. He was with his good friend Raj Bhavsar, an Olympic gymnast whom I’d known since I was seventeen.

Mike was a sight for sore eyes—and these eyes certainly saw him in a new light this time around. I took in his bronzed skin and fit, muscular body under his white T-shirt as I got up to give him and Raj hugs. When I got closer, I saw that Mike had silver circular piercings in his ears and a silver stud piercing in his labret—the area just below his lower lip. I thought it was an unusual place for a piercing, but somehow he pulled it off and it actually looked good on him. For the first time, I felt drawn to Mike in a romantic sense and I remember feeling a bit self-conscious standing there in my burgundy bikini, feeling less fit than I had been before. Mike’s warm smile and friendly way was such a ray of sunshine and I just couldn’t take my eyes off of him. Perhaps I was finally in the right place and right time to notice him in a different way. We couldn’t talk long as they were on their way to meet up with Raj’s gymnastics team from Ohio State University. Mike had already graduated from Ohio State and was coaching his former team as they trained for the US Nationals later that summer.

I could hardly wait to see Mike later that night at the cabin
house, where the gymnasts and some staff would hang out. As we sat outside in the fresh air, it was the first time I was able to have a long, in-person, uninterrupted conversation with Mike. We’d known each other for years and had written back and forth now and again, but we’d never had a decent chunk of time to talk face to face. I was intrigued by Mike—here was this stud gymnast who was intellectual and educated with well-thought-out opinions and ideas on so many things, yet he was humble, sincere, and easy to be around. The hours flew by as we talked and laughed. I felt a new and stronger connection with Mike that evening, and there was no doubt in my mind that he was special.

We were inseparable for that week at camp until I had to pack up and move on to my next camp, which was what I typically did during summers. I’d travel from one camp to another, so I really didn’t know when I’d see Mike again, especially since I lived in Texas and he was from Ohio. Oddly, we didn’t exchange phone numbers or talk about when we’d see each other again. We had always come back into each other’s lives and I figured it would happen again.

The year 2001 was yet another time of transition for me. Following my last attempt to qualify for a spot on the Olympic team in 2000, I was forced to step aside due to repeated injury and surgery. Having officially retired from gymnastics, I was left wondering how I was going to fill the void. My life had been consumed by my sport for as long as I could remember. On top of the sudden free time on my hands, retirement was bittersweet because I felt it was premature due to injury. I had two surgeries on my right knee (one in 1997, the other in 2000), then surgery on my right shoulder in early 2001. I was injured, but I wanted more and felt I still had it in me to compete. Heck, despite the gymnastics mileage I’d put on my body, I was still only nineteen years old.

I attended the 2001 US National Championships as a spectator instead of a competitor for the first time since retiring. The competition was held in Philadelphia, and I decided to go with two girlfriends.
I was looking forward to the meet and thought it would be a good distraction since I was already going a little stir-crazy in my newfound retirement. My friends and I were waiting at our hotel to catch the shuttle to the gymnastics arena, but for a number of different reasons, we kept missing the bus and we’d have to wait for the next and the next. It was getting late and I was in the middle of asking someone about the next shuttle when the revolving doors in the hotel lobby turned and in walked Mike!

It was so unexpected that my stomach was doing flips. I was out-of-my-mind happy to see him. We hadn’t spoken since summer camp in the Poconos, and here he was strolling through the lobby and back into my life as if we’d planned it for months. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.

I tried to walk over casually to greet him, so I didn’t look like a total dork, but it was no use—I couldn’t stop myself from sprinting toward him and practically tackled him as I threw my arms around him. I was so surprised to see him. He had hitched a ride to Philadelphia with some friends from Ohio State and was there to support Raj and the men’s gymnastics team. He still hadn’t connected with Raj to find out where the team was staying.

“Why don’t you stay with us? Hang out with us!” I blurted out. I was practically bouncing up and down as I ran with Mike to drop his stuff in our room before grabbing a cab to the competition.
Thank God we missed those earlier shuttles
, I thought to myself as we made our way to the venue.

Nationals flew by quickly and, quite honestly, I was more into Mike than the competition. He was so knowledgeable about gymnastics and could practically predict what would happen next just by analyzing a gymnast’s entry or moves leading into tricks. I loved how passionate he was. I was impressed by his knowledge of and respect for women’s gymnastics as well. Most male gymnasts I knew didn’t know nearly as much about the women’s events, especially the technical and historical aspects. Mike was like a gymnastics
encyclopedia, and I found myself captivated by his rich love for the nuances and artistry of our sport. I even learned a few things just listening to his comments as we watched the women that day.

I learned of Mike’s goal to be a foot and ankle surgeon during our time together at IGC. He had taken a year off after graduating from Ohio State University with a degree in molecular genetics and was getting ready to start the long journey through medical school and residency. He had volunteered that summer helping the Ohio State Men’s Gymnastics Team prepare for Nationals and made his way to the meet to support them. He had also tutored many players on the Ohio State University football team during past years, wanting to help his alma mater as much as possible before burying his head in medical school.

Sunday morning came, the meet was over, and I dreaded having to say good-bye to Mike yet again. As he helped me into a taxi to the airport, I realized I didn’t even have his phone number. This time I wasn’t leaving until I got it. As we exchanged information, I leaned in and gave Mike a warm hug and planted a firm kiss on his lips. He kissed me back. I was complete mush as the taxi carried me to the airport, and I had no idea when I’d see him again.

We started talking on the phone regularly, often for three hours or more on any given night. I never knew I could talk so much and still have more to say. During one of our marathon conversations, I shared how I’d always imagined myself going to college, but so many things had happened in my life and college kept getting postponed. I was beginning to wonder when I’d be able to make it happen. Mike repeatedly encouraged me to enroll in college sooner than later and thanks to his persistence, I enrolled at Montgomery Community College in Texas in the spring of 2002. I had always dreamed about being the first in my family to graduate from college, and it was starting to look like I could. Mama and Tata never had that opportunity, and I wanted to do it for all of us. I completed
my first semester of college with a 4.0 grade point average. I felt great.

I had boarded a flight and departed New York the morning the World Trade Center was attacked on September 11, 2001. I didn’t learn about that horrible news until my plane landed and was immediately grounded in Pennsylvania, not too far from where the third hijacked plane crashed that morning. There were no flights anywhere, so I knew I couldn’t get home to Houston. I managed to use the voucher I was provided by the airline to pay for cab fare to Cleveland, where I could stay with Mike until the airlines were operating again.

Mike and I were horrified as we watched the 9/11 stories unfold on the news. I ended up spending the next five days in Cleveland. It was an emotional, dark time for our country and we, like most, were overtaken by grief. I felt closer to Mike as we talked about life and death and war and how much being American means to the both of us. I felt our relationship strengthen during my stay and there was no denying that my love for him had become strong and genuine.

Growing up under Mama and Tata’s turbulent union, I couldn’t believe I was already thinking he was “the one,” and I felt in my heart with great certainty that I wanted to spend my life with Mike. He understood me like no one ever had, and I never felt like I had to hide my skeletons or water down my rocky past. He loved me for who I was
now
and nothing else seemed to matter.

Looking back at that time now, I had become a bit chubby. In fact, I was the most full-figured I’d ever been when Mike and I began dating seriously in 2001. Having been hyperaware of my weight and a topsy-turvy relationship with food my entire life, I felt self-conscious at first, but Mike always made me feel beautiful. He loved my curves, embraced them, and helped empower me to feel more confident about myself in every way. I knew I was falling deeper and deeper in love and I wanted to spend every waking moment
with Mike. Every time we said good-bye, I was more certain that there would come a time when we wouldn’t have to separate.