On Jan. 30, senior Scott Bregman stepped onto the floor exercise in a meet for the first time in almost 10 months. His right ankle was wrapped tightly in several layers of tape, and his left foot bore a scar resembling a pink centipede.

Bregman saluted, ran across the floor, performed a perfect Arabian double pike and stuck the landing. The fans cheered, but his teammates went wild.

As if he has never left competition, Bregman flowed through the rest of his routine, finishing with a tiny hop on his dismount. He earned a 14.85 score and the floor title in his first meet back.

Behind Bregman’s two minutes of triumph were the result of nearly two arduous years of rehab from a pair of separate, season-ending ankle injuries.

For Bregman, just stepping on the floor as a competitor was a victory that went against all odds.

On March 10, 2007, the then-sophomore landed his competition vault short. A few days later, he stood in a surgeon’s office, waiting for a diagnosis that he knew might mean the end of his career.

He had sustained a Lisfranc dislocation in his left foot, a serious tendon injury that usually prevents people from ever returning to the peak of their athletic career.

The surgeon couldn’t even look Bregman in the eye, staring at the floor as he informed the gymnast that he might never compete again.

Gymnastics had been central to Bregman’s life since he was a little boy, and all of a sudden, everything could be finished. Bregman held his emotions back as athletic trainer Bill Shinavier drove him from the doctor’s office to practice.

When teammate Jamie Thompson asked how the appointment had gone, those emotions came flooding out.

“It was the first moment that I had to really contemplate what it would mean to me,” Bregman said. “I just broke down. It’s not one of my strongest moments. I was literally unable to form a complete sentence for about 30 minutes.”

His teammates soon surrounded Bregman, offering hugs and words of reassurance.

“I think it’s harder to hear that later (in your career),” Thompson said. “To hear that you’re just going to have to be done, not by your own choice, not by your own timeline, takes a toll.”

But soon after, Bregman’s innate stubbornness took over. Nobody was going to tell him when or how his gymnastics career would end. He threw himself into his rehab, and a few weeks into his junior season, he was back at his peak.

It was as if the injury hadn’t happened.

Then came March 14, 2008 — just over a year since his first injury.

At practice, Bregman decided to perform a second, full floor routine, ending with his usual full-in dismount, even though he was a bit tired. His right ankle landed just before his face hit the carpet.

“I saw his back handspring and I knew that it wasn’t good enough to get two flips and one twist around,” junior Evan Heiter said. “My initial reaction was that it would be hard for something not to be wrong.”

Bregman knew he was hurt, but he thought it was just a sprain. He picked himself up, limped to the training room, and almost casually, called for Shinavier.

His ankle was broken, and his season, once again, was over prematurely. And though a broken ankle didn’t seem as serious as his earlier tendon injury, for the second time, Bregman’s career almost ended.

Though Shinavier and Bregman’s teammates just remember the Lawrence, Kan., native’s wry humor and determination to come back, Bregman said he had serious doubts.

“I just can’t do this again,” he thought after learning he would need surgery on his right ankle. He knew exactly how long and difficult the road back would be — he’d been there before.

“I thought a lot about not coming back,” Bregman said. “But the truth of the matter is, you have to do the rehab if you want to exist as a human being. … Then my body started to feel better and better, and I was like, ‘Well, I’ve come this far, so I’ll give it a shot.’ ”

Just as they’d supported him through his first injury, Bregman’s teammates rallied around him. And the second time around, Bregman remembers, he milked it for all it was worth.

“The second time, I’d be like, ‘I can’t move that, so you’re going to have to,’ ” Bregman said. “I’d make (Heiter) drive me.