At seventy-eight, Martha had long been known in her neighborhood for her warm smile, her endless cookies, and her uncanny ability to remember everyone’s birthday. But no one—not her grandkids, not her neighbors, not even the mailman—knew about her secret hobby: gymnastics.

It started one quiet morning when Martha was watching old Olympic videos on TV. She felt a spark of mischief and decided that age wasn’t going to keep her from trying something daring. So, in her backyard, wearing her favorite floral sweatshirt and sneakers, she set up a soft mat and gave herself a pep talk.

“Alright, Martha,” she whispered, “let’s show them who’s boss.”

With a deep breath, she ran a few steps, swung her arms, and—whoosh!—she sailed through the air in a perfect backflip, landing on the mat with a triumphant thud. For a moment, the birds stopped chirping. Then, her dog barked in delight, and her neighbor’s cat slowly blinked in disbelief.

The next day, Martha’s grandkids came over for a visit. They expected tea and cookies, maybe a story from “when Grandma was young.” Instead, they watched her do three consecutive backflips across the living room, laughing and cheering with pure awe.

“Grandma!” her oldest shouted. “How are you even doing that?!”

Martha winked, brushing imaginary dust from her sweatshirt. “Oh, I’ve got a few tricks left in these old knees,” she said. “You just wait—by my next birthday, I might stick a triple!”

And from that day on, Martha wasn’t just Grandma—she was the flipping wonder of the neighborhood.