As a mother, I've lived the highs and challenges of supporting my daughter's dream to become a top athlete in acrogym. Here's our story.
The decision was made. Relief mixed with tension—more for us parents than for her. She's fully committing to her passion: aiming to become a top athlete with intensified training, a higher competitive level, and a specialized school. This follows a tough first year of secondary school, where her post-school bike rides for training drew puzzled looks from peers who lingered in town.
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Acrogym has been her passion since age 7, following gymnastics. She's talented—we knew that—but her drive to go elite caught us by surprise. As parents, we're no strangers to sports: her father excelled in tennis and volleyball; my siblings competed at high levels in gymnastics. I've always prioritized hobbies over elite commitment, but I recognize her potential.
Acrogym involves dynamic pairs or trios performing throws, somersaults, and balances—thrilling to watch after my first session.
Seven years in, she's evolved immensely as both athlete and person. Switching from top (upper) to base (lower) partner after five years, her trio disbanded post a stellar season: 4th at the Geneva International Acrogymnastics Cup and 3rd at Dutch Nationals in Ahoy Rotterdam.
A Facebook 'talent wanted' post from a club 45 minutes away sparked opportunity. Trial training revealed no immediate base partners at her level, but they valued her dedication and offered a role switch. Skeptical at first, she embraced it, envisioning top-athlete potential amid our family logistics debates.
Balancing her training with our other kids' activities, work, and household demands felt daunting—especially with our middle child's health challenges requiring Nijmegen trips.
Logistics ruled: who drives when? Dad took over three weekday evenings and Saturday mornings, waiting through late sessions. Amid football, hip-hop, swimming, and her acro, tensions rose—but her results (2nd at Nationals) justified the push. Our middle daughter cheers loudest; the youngest endures car rides reluctantly.
Enter CSE (Centre for Sports & Education in Zwolle): athletes integrate top training with schooling. Club peers thrived there; after assessments, she qualified. Amid a community of driven teens—from football to judo—intake included a motivation letter, tough questions, and commitment screening.
Her routine: 6:05 a.m. bike to Nijverdal, train to Zwolle, shuttle between hall and classes. Exhausting, but she thrived in the sports-centric environment.
She inked a pro-level contract, pledging adherence. Mornings feature three weekly trainings; school adjusts for competitions, monitors growth/nutrition, and provides mental support. Homework persists alongside elite demands.
Travel's tough—early bikes, late trains—but clubmates ease evenings.
Family gains calm without drives; we cherish her home days more. Her load intensified: double sessions, fatigue, yet she's happier, disciplined in diet/homework. At 13, worries linger—friendships? School? Sustainability?—but CSE's flexible education (up to advanced levels) reassures us. Not all reach the top; that's reality.
Pride swells, especially seeing her independence and joy. Sisters relish her presence; we've traded chaos for structure. CSE blends elite training with tailored education—ideal for talents like hers. Many could summit with such support.
*CSE empowers young athletes to excel in sport and studies with intensive guidance on all fronts. (Source: CSE website).
