Kim’s sunny demeanor turns slightly strained. She glances at her husband and continues, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to see that you’re so passionate about helping Hallie here, but I also do want to know for sure that you’re one hundred percent qualified to get her through 2020.”

Hallie slumps back in her chair, like she’s heard this complaint one too many times.

“Mom, I need help on floor,” she mutters.

Todd clears his throat. “We’d like to hear more about your experience as a coach.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Kim rushes to add. “It’s just, you know, Trials are only eight months away, and this is a once-in-a-lifetime shot.”

“Of course, I understand,” I say.

Families make enormous, life-changing sacrifices to give their kids a chance in this sport, and I don’t fault them for wanting nothing less than the best for their daughter. Otherwise, those sacrifices aren’t worth it.

“Hallie’s sixteen now, and if we wait another four years, she’ll be…” Kim makes a helpless gesture with her hands.

“Maybe too old,” I offer.

“Twenty’s not old,” Hallie groans.

“In this sport? Honey, it’s a long shot,” Kim says, ruffling a hand through her bangs.

“Do you want to try for 2024?” I ask.

“That’ll be where, Paris?” Todd asks.

Ryan nods.

“Of course!” Hallie says. “And then after that, college, maybe law school, who knows?”

It’s impressive that she has the next dozen years of her life mapped out, but I’m not surprised. Since childhood, her entire life has revolved around a singular, far-off goal.

“But 2020 is your best shot,” Kim reminds her gently. “And the Olympic team will be smaller and more selective than ever before.”

She’s right. In 1996, the US gymnastics delegation included seven athletes, nicknamed the Magnificent Seven. But the rules have changed over time. By 2012, the year I tried to make the Olympics, only five gymnasts competed, known as the Fierce Five. Another five girls, the Final Five, competed at the 2016 Olympics, but by that point, the Worldwide Organization of Gymnastics had already ruled that team sizes would dwindle to four spots each in 2020. Making the Olympic team this year will be harder than ever before.

“I’m very confident in Avery’s abilities,” Ryan says smoothly. “I wouldn’t bring her in if she wasn’t right for Hallie.”

“Pardon my saying so, but that’s exactly what happened last month,” Todd counters.

I have a flash of Hallie’s disastrous floor routine at Worlds.

“Mr. and Mrs. Conway…” I begin.

“Please, call us Kim and Todd,” she offers.