A ticking time bomb

Story by Kaitlyn Schmidt

Photos courtesy of Brianna Greenlow

Stiff.  

Brianna Greenlow woke up at 7:30 a.m. to the soothing alarm tone of “Ripples,” and all she could think about was how stiff her body felt. When it was bad, Bri set her daily alarm 30 minutes ahead of the time she actually needed to get up—so she could take her vitamins and stretch her body enough to actually get up out of bed. 

Bri’s 5-foot-tall, 20-year-old figure physically displays the signs of her gymnastics career. Her muscular back reveals rows of perfectly round purple circles. Her elbows don’t quite straighten all the way. Her Osgood-Schlatter kneecaps stick out. Her nose is just a little bit crooked.

Unlike most 20-year-olds, whose bodies are at their primes, Bri spends anywhere from one to three hours a day mending her body from the damage of her sport. She gets daily cupping treatments, ice baths and muscle compression therapy, weekly dry needling, chiropractor appointments and massage therapy, twice yearly Cortisone shots, and frequent physical therapy. 

“There’s a reason you see all the Olympians are all ages 15 to 22,” Bri said. “Because our peak is young.” 

In the words of 24-year-old Olympic gymnast Simone Biles in her preparation for the Tokyo Games: “Gymnasts’ bodies are like ticking time bombs.” For 18 years, Bri’s time bomb has ticked away, threatening to explode at any moment and end her career. 

XXX 

The year was 2002, and Nancy and Greg Greenlow had just moved the family into a new house in Suwanee, Georgia. After leaving toddler Bri and her older brother Ryan in Ryan’s bedroom as they painted the house, the couple was stunned to come back and find Bri perched on the top of a wooden shelving unit. Bri had scaled three drawers and three shelves, her head just barely grazing the slanted ceiling. 

“She had climbed up not to the top shelf, but over the top shelf and was just sitting at the top,” Nancy said. “And we’re like, ‘How in the world did you get up there on your own?’ She was such a monkey.” 

Even though they both have soccer backgrounds—Greg played at the University of Maryland and Nancy played at State University of New York at Plattsburgh—Bri’s parents knew exactly the sport their “monkey” would excel in. 

“I thought, ‘I think you need to go into gymnastics,’” Nancy said. 

Bri was soon enrolled in beginner classes at Gymnastics World of Georgia. At age six, she switched to Ultimate Gymnastics to train in hopes of becoming a Division I scholar athlete. On this track, she began climbing up the levels of the sport, which range 1-10. Already surpassing levels one and two, Bri started at level three, and quickly rose to level seven by the end of elementary school. In this progression, she learned everything from cartwheels to roundoffs to back handsprings, mastering the basics on beam, floor, vault and uneven bars—her favorite. Little did she know that the constant pounding was taking a toll on her growth plates. 

“We were in the car on our way to dinner when the doctor called me,” Nancy said. “And I couldn’t even tell her what was going on.” 

Following the call, Nancy drove fifth-grade Bri to the general practitioner, who delivered life-changing news to the young gymnast: she had fractured both sides of her L5 vertebrae.  

Tick, tick. 

He then started listing off the risks of continuing her sport.  

“Don’t want the disks to move.”  

“Paralysis.”  

“Won’t have kids.” 

“We want you to be able to carry in your groceries.” 

But all Bri could do was gape at the X-ray that displayed the giant crack in her spine.  

“I remember saying ‘Oh, hey, how long of a recovery is it?’ And he goes ‘Normally, about three to four months, but for you, it’s probably gonna be forever,’” Bri said. “And I was 10 years old thinking ‘This can’t be real, you’re kidding.’” 

After a lengthy discussion with her parents and taking all of the risks into consideration, Bri decided to quit gymnastics. In lieu of the gym, she tried exercising in the pool, on the soccer field, in the dance studio and even on the back of a horse. Still, she found that she just wasn’t as good at anything else.  

So, two months later, Bri switched to All Around Gymnastics, where she practiced her sport less intensively for two years, using the tumble tracks and foam pit to take the pressure off her back and joints. 

Though uneven bars was her favorite event, it was Bri’s most inconsistent. Naturally, the day before her seventh-grade regionals, Bri’s coach made her drill through her bars routine over and over again. With one misplaced grip on the bar, she fell straight down onto the hard mat and tore ligaments in both elbows, chipped two bones in her right elbow and broke her right wrist. 

Tick, tick. 

After surpassing levels eight and nine, Bri transferred to Gymnastix Training Center at the end of seventh grade to begin intensive training once again. In the fall offseason, she trained all four events over a span of 20-30 hours a week, sometimes even doing two-a-day practices. In the spring, Bri travelled to compete every weekend. 

“At that age, you’re being told what to do, you’re training six hours a day and you have these dreams of going to college and doing big things in the sport,” Bri said. “You’re not going to tell [the coaches] that you don’t want to do it or that you can’t do it. So you just keep doing it, and then you get hurt.”  

Bri was then bound by two full-arm casts for three months, missing the rest of the season. Without her hands, she couldn’t eat by herself, shower by herself, and most importantly for a seventh-grader, braid her hair by herself. 

“My mom went to New York, and so my dad had to do my hair for school,” Bri said. “And it was the most tragic thing. I would go to school and be in tears like ‘Someone, please help me fix my hair!’”  

Following recovery, Bri did a second year of level nine in eighth grade and not only qualified for Junior Olympic (JO) Eastern Nationals, but won beam and all-around. Heading into high school, she made the leap from level nine to level 10—the highest level. 

Freshman year was crucial for Bri. Since there weren’t yet age requirements for recruiting athletes, most scouts were already making offers to athletes by their ninth-grade postseasons. 

Interested in a Division I school and scholarship money, Bri was in contact with an array of Power Five coaches for potential offers. 

Then a week before state, Bri was practicing on floor and over rotated a 1 ½ lay, bouncing off the floor on pointed toes.  

As Bri toppled to the ground, only one of her club coaches was there. He stared at her blankly and didn’t say a word. A teammate had to carry her out.

Turns out, Bri broke both ankles and was confined to a wheelchair for three months, causing her to miss the three most important meets of the year. 

Tick, tick. 

Bri’s friend Katherine Marianos recalled going to the doctor’s office together for gymnastics-related injuries, Bri for her ankles and Marianos for her knee. 

“And she walked into—or, I guess rolled in,” Marianos said. “I remember we were both so frustrated. But she brought a smile to my face and there was a comfort of having her there and just knowing that she was going to be pushing through too.” 

The two went through MRIs and rehab side by side, solidifying their bond. Bri was in desperate need for all of the support she could get—everything in life became much more complicated without putting pressure on her feet. 

“Things that took five minutes now took 45, even going to the bathroom,” Bri said. “Ever since, every day that I get up and I can walk, I think ‘Yeah, I can complain, but things could always be worse. Man, I get to get out of this, but some people don’t.’”   

Showering was proven to be the most difficult task; Nancy set up a bench, turned on the water and bathed her teenage daughter who was in a bathing suit and shower cap. Nancy and Ryan also took turns carrying Bri up and down stairs and into the car. 

“My back was just killing me after that,” Nancy said. “I did what I had to do to get her to go to school and get a shower and I mean, it was devastating.” 

Perhaps the most devastating part of the incident for Bri was watching all of the scholarship slots she wanted slowly slip away. 

XXX 

Throughout the rest of her high school training, Bri was pained by other small injuries. In her sophomore year preseason, she broke her right elbow again but still competed with pre-stress fractures in her fibula. 

Tick. 

Later that season, she was practicing a release move on uneven bars—again, her favorite but most inconsistent event—and her face-first fall broke her nose. 

“I was gushing blood but my bar coach was like ‘Yeah, like, you’re gonna keep going until you learn how to fall,’” Bri said. “So, I just kept going with just blood all on my leo and I learned how to fall. But I did break my nose.” 

Tick. 

She was constantly pushed.  

Shin splints. Tick. 

Wrist arthritis. Tick. 

Knee problems. Tick. 

“You tell some coaches that the stuff hurts,” Bri said. “And they’re like ‘Okay? Do more.’”

However, that push did bring Bri the success she so desired. At the end of sophomore year, she qualified for JO Nationals and was noticed by the College of William and Mary. 

The following fall, she committed to that college on a scholarship—finally, she made it. To prepare for the collegiate gymnastics world, Bri pushed harder than ever during her last two seasons. 

She was a two-time Georgia state champion on bars and beam, and additionally won state titles on vault, floor, and in all-around. She named to the Region 8 All Star team. She was two-time FOCO Gymnast of the Year. She set school records in all of her events. From the outside, she looked phenomenal. But on the inside, her body just barely kept up. 

Detonation could happen at any moment. 

XXX 

Bri was all right at William and Mary. She performed well, but she wasn’t her usual cheery self in her attempt to adjust herself eight hours away from home and operating under unfamiliar coaching styles and team dynamics. 

In Bri’s seventh meet of the season against Maryland, a faulty landing on vault tore a tendon in her right ankle. 

Tick, tick. 

She continued competing, though. Then her right elbow started to hurt again.

“I picked up my backpack one time in class, and my backpack is pretty light because I have back problems,” Bri recalled. “And my arm just collapsed backwards and everything fell out of my backpack. I was like in the middle of lecture hall and I’m like, ‘Oh my gosh, this is so embarrassing.’” 

Lifting a fork to her mouth started to hurt. Carrying grocery bags hurt. Shampooing, brushing and styling her hair—something still extremely important to her—hurt.  

“I had to learn how to shampoo my hair literally with one arm,” Bri laughed. “Yeah, I felt ridiculous.” 

Come to find out, she had about 20% of her ulnar collateral ligament left from overuse.  

Tick, tick.  

Desperate for a solution, Bri looked into Platelet-Rich Plasma (PRP) injection, a painful treatment that involves drawing blood from one part of the body, spinning it and adding platelets, then injecting it back into the injured area. With an 80% success rate, she saw this as the only viable option. 

Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, Bri’s injection date was postponed until June 2020, and she had to brave the treatment alone due to the hospital’s strict guest policy. With Nancy on FaceTime, Bri sat patiently as the nurse struggled to draw blood from her left arm, move to poke her right arm, then switch back to the left arm for more blood.  

After the blood had all finally been drawn and the doctors had left the room, Bri’s left arm started to swell. Then she started feeling lightheaded. Alone. 

“I was like ‘I’m passing out! I’m passing out!’ and they all were like ‘NOOOO get her water!’” Bri said. 

She couldn’t imagine childbirth hurting that much. 

The doctors told Bri that her left arm should be feeling back to normal in a day. After a day had passed, she still couldn’t feel either of her arms or right foot—three limbs that remained immobile for the next two weeks—so Bri was stuck in a wheelchair… again. 

“So, when I broke my elbows, they were messed up, but I had both my feet,” Bri said. “When I broke my feet, I had both my hands. But for two weeks, I had neither arm and one leg was gone. It was really, really brutal.” 

In that two-week period, not only did Bri need to be carried and pushed around in the wheelchair, she also needed someone to feed her, bathe her and do her hair… again. 

XXX 

Nearing August 2020, Bri began having doubts about her career at William and Mary. She started to reflect on the lack of priority given to her sport from the school’s athletic department: women’s gymnastics didn’t get the top-notch facilities, financial support, and staffing that the other sports did. This made Bri, for the first time in a long time, unhappy in the gym. 

Because of COVID-19, Bri’s move-in date was pushed further and further back, allowing her even more time to contemplate her career.  

Was her body fit for this anymore? Could she handle another three or four years in this environment?  

In her introspection, Bri found guidance in her favorite Bible verse, Proverbs 3:5-6: 

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart 
    and lean not on your own understanding; 
in all your ways submit to him, 
    and he will make your paths straight.” 

Three days before move-in, she decided pull the plug and enter the transfer portal. 

“I don’t know what my plan is, but I know it’s not here,” Bri said. “I’d rather take a chance to try and find my happiness in my sport again. I trusted that my prayers would be answered.” 

But even in the transfer portal, Bri wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue gymnastics. She still wasn’t back in the gym from PRP, and when she contacted her original Power Five schools again, they either couldn’t offer her a spot because of her injury or COVID-19 complications. As a well-known face in the collegiate gymnastics world, Bri felt blindsided by the disinterest that the colleges showed her.  

“At this point, I just remember laying in my room like ‘Okay, I have no plan. I have no direction. I’ve worked my whole life to get here and now I have nothing left,’” Bri said. “I was so upset and just so defeated.” 

Then began Bri’s “homeless phase,” as she calls it. Enrolled part-time at Lanier Technical College in Suwanee, where she took some classes while living at home with her parents. She went back to Gymnastix Training Center and started training again—all by herself.

“Each day, we didn’t know if she was going to come home and cry or show us some videos of what she did,” Nancy said. 

When Bri went to visit Marianos’ lake house for a weekend getaway, her solemn spirits dampened the mood of the vacation. 

“I just remember her being so stressed out and not herself,” Marianos said. “She just completely shut down; she was just so ready to find what was next and figure out what she’s doing.”  

Nearing November, Bri had been in the gym for her entire preseason, finally back in top-shape for the spring. Training by herself, Bri knew her limits and avoided injury.  

But with the deadline to commit for the spring season a couple of days away, Bri’s constant rejections made her doubt that she could ever call another school home. 

As one of the last schools that hadn’t yet gotten back to her, UNC-Chapel Hill was one of Bri’s last hopes. The school was originally not on her radar because when she was recruited during club gymnastics, she was told that UNC didn’t gave out-of-state scholarships—but at that point, Bri was willing to compromise for a walk-on. 

Then on November 6, “by the grace of God,” Bri heard the familiar “Ripples” ringtone go off. This time though, with UNC interim head coach Marie Denick on the caller ID.  

And just as Bri prayed for, Denick not only wanted her to join the team, but she offered Bri a full-ride scholarship. Immediately after hanging up with Denick, Bri called her parents, who rushed home to celebrate the news. 

“It’s gonna make me cry,” Nancy recalled. “All the hard work that she had done by herself because she didn’t really have a coach; she was going in at odd hours, and she just continued to push and push and push and work so hard to get back to where she was. And then to get this offer from Marie in November, it was unbelievable. Like it all finally came true.” 

In a week and a half, Bri packed up her things and finally found her home in Ram Village 1, and began training with the team. 

XXX 

To sum it up, Bri’s first impression on the team was “exciting.” 

“Her super energetic and bubbly personality really stood out to me,” fellow UNC gymnast Hallie Thompson said. “I already knew she was a really hard worker from club gymnastics, so I was really excited to get to work with her.” 

“I was very excited but at the same time a little nervous,” UNC assistant coach Quest Hayden said. “I was excited because I knew she could make an immediate impact on our lineups and help our team score. I was nervous because we knew our team so well at the time and you never know how another variable will affect the rest of the team. But when she got here, I was so happy that I had nothing to worry about!”  

For Bri, UNC was a complete 180 degree turn from anywhere else she had ever trained, which is largely attributed to the coaching staff. Unlike many of her coaches prior, Denick and Hayden knew exactly when enough was enough. 

“Some athletes need a lot of repetitions and some just need a few good quality turns. I never want to push our athletes to the point where they get so tired that they lose focus,” Hayden said. “For Bri, she understands that each turn in practice needs to count, so I know that as long as we can keep her healthy and keep her conditioning up, she’ll be there at the meet ready to perform.”  

Two days before the first meet of the season, Denick told Bri that she was competing in vault, even though she had trained that event the least since her injection—she hadn’t even put on the competition landing yet. 

Sure enough, Bri competed in vault and earned a 9.700 to help the team notch the win over New Hampshire. 

After seeing Bri compose herself so well under pressure, Denick and Hayden competed her in all-around the rest of the season with the exception of the back-to-back meet weekend against Temple. Contributing to all four events each meet, Bri was the team MVP at the end of the season. 

One of her proudest moments on her new team came at a moment Bri was all-the-more used to—practicing her bars routine over and over and never hitting it once. 

“That week I just wasn’t sleeping, I had so many tests,” Bri said. “Quest just looked at me like ‘You’re done with bars until the meet.’” 

Done? Was that even in her dictionary? 

“Even though she was stressed about it and worried, it didn’t make me worried,” Hayden said. “One of Bri’s strongest attributes is being able to flip the switch in the meet and do what has to be done. No matter how her warm-up was, when she saluted the judge to start her routine, I always knew we could count on her.” 

That meet, against William and Mary in Chapel Hill, Bri hit her season-high score on bars. For the cherry on top, she not only beat the other two William and Mary all-around competitors, but the UNC team won by 5.35 points. 

XXX 

This new chapter has brought out the best in Bri. She finally has those tight-knit teammates. She finally has a whole staff of coaches that care about her wellbeing. She finally is taking care of her body.

But her time bomb is still ticking to its end, and will be for the rest of her life. 

Long car rides are interrupted hourly for Bri to stretch out her back to avoid spasms. Hours are spent in the training room in treatment. Alarms are set 30 minutes early in the morning to take her pills and loosen up. 

“I definitely feel it every day—like, so bad,” Bri said. “Even just going to the store and bringing in groceries, I don’t really carry more than 10 pounds.” 

After her last two or three years of collegiate gymnastics are over though, she’s done with the sport. There’s no other place for collegiate-level gymnasts to go other than the Olympics, and Bri will be too old by then. 

All of this. To retire at 23 years old. 

Bri has dreams of being on “Survivor”—she’s applied twice. Every Wednesday growing up, she spent daddy-daughter time with Greg watching the show, and with her strength, she feels like she’d be a great candidate for the show. But rather than being nervous about the challenges or the bugs, she only mentioned one reservation: sleeping on the ground instead of a bed and waking up… stiff.