THE world of artistic gymnastics is colourful, spectacular and seems to revolve gently and surely on a series of disciplines.

The Hydro yesterday afternoon was quietly enthralled by a succession of athletes who vaulted and swung from bars or rings. It was dramatic and exciting.

There were the floor exercises that were completed with an unflagging exuberance and a technical excellence that was obvious to those of us whose previous experience of tumbling inside halls has been followed by the words "bouncer" and "casualty department".

The brilliance, the muscularity and the balance and movement of the athletes is obvious, visible.

Yet gymnastics does noe just make demands on the bodies. Yes, the competitors are muscled and toned. The combined fat levels of the combined Commonwealth gymnastic cadre would not flavour a bag of crisps. But it is their mental strength that impresses as they take on dismounts and jumps that would unnerve a comic superhero.

The problems facing a gymnast congeal to constitute an anxiety dream of unlimited power.

They are assailed by the forces of mental and physical exhaustion, they are the focus of other people's high expectations, they have the mundane fear of making a mistake in style or content and the more nerve-shredding one of committing an error that results in severe injury.

Frank Baines of Scotland came off the pommel horse yesterday, but his act mercifully fell into the category of technical error though this will assuage his anguish but little. Jo Adrianna Zammit from Malta lost her rhythm in the vault, landing dangerously and spectacularly but with no obvious injury. Both continued to compete, to take on the apparatus, to face the fear.

Others through the ages have succumbed to a phenomenon that Americans have called "the balk". They develop a fear of a skill and simply refuse to do it. The beam causes the most distress. It is just short of four inches wide and women leap, somersault and dismount from it with a speed and accuracy that is breathtaking. It can also be bone-breaking.

The gymnast just does not have to conquer the technique, but subdue the anxiety climbing inside their minds.

Steve Frew won gold in the men's rings at the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester, the first gymnastics gold for Scotland in the history of the games. Frew, who is now a mentor and a member of the athletes' advisory committee at the Games, knows that feeling of dread.

Did he ever have the fear that he could not perform a discipline or even compete?

"Yeah," he says bluntly as the new generation of Scots perform to roars in the arena below him.

"As a gymnast you face fear on a daily basis," he adds. "When you are 16 feet up off the high bar, flying on the air and having to land . . . it is a scary thing. You have to have a mental toughness."

He believes the only way to address the problem is to prepare properly. "You can get over the fear, the challenges, the things that are difficult if you train properly. If you succeed in training, it gives you the necessary confidence for competition."

He is aware, though, that accidents are almost a part of the sport. "One wrong hand placement, one slip of a foot and the vault can be a very scary place. The beam, frankly, scares the wits out of me."

So when was he most assailed by fear? "It was 2006 when I was coming to the end of my gymnastic career and I was having problems with my dismount off high bar. It was a double straight somersault with two twists in it. In practice I was getting lost visually in the air. My spatial awareness started to go."

He stripped his routine back to basics, persevered and finally the fear was replaced by a sense of achievement. "The No.1 key is focus," he adds. "It is about mind and body connecting."

This is the crucial balance in gymnastics, a sport that demands a stability in mind and body. There were no medals offered yesterday on the first day of competition. There is a case, though, for a massed salute for an inconspicuous gallantry.