My Last Journey

When we are children, we are a little bit of everything, an astronaut, an artist, and an athlete. Someone once told me that growing up is a process of giving up dreams and ambitions. I have always wondered if people realize when it is their last time doing what they love. The last time they will hit a volleyball, string the final key on the antique piano, or paint a final masterpiece. They release a portion of their childhood, but for what, a new beginning, to focus on something else, or because they are lazy? For me, I did not realize my junior year regional track meet would be my last jump I would ever make, until the first semester of my senior year. The spring of my senior year was the season I was supposed to succeed, obtain the school

Through this move, I was stuck in a position to either continue my running or change to field events, which in turn would broaden my understanding of Track and Field. It gave me the opportunity to stretch my limits in the sport I loved, but I felt like I was in the same position that I was in five years ago when I first stepped foot on the track. I decided to try the three jumping events that track offered: High jump, Triple jump, and Long jump. Although I was technically partaking in the same sport, the lingo had drifted to unfamiliar horizons. Not only was I attempting an unaccustomed event, I was adapting to a new mentor and teammates. Each additional event came with phrases that echoed a strange language. High Jump consisted of drills like, j-ups; Long and Triple jump were both filled with concepts of

The practices were the same structure, but the weather manipulated the way I preformed. The blazing sun no longer shot its rays down to the humid black track; instead, it hid in the clouds as the bitter racing winds stung my face. Slowly, I gained confidence in the jumps I was doing and started to enjoy the little things about the sport, like the instant when I glide into the smooth sand. When jumping, I felt the release of my stress as I flew high into the sky. Since sophomore year, I barely missed the state track meet and the Free State record by a couple of inches. After my last track meet in my junior year, I was determined to finally accomplish the 35’11 triple jump that I aspired for years. I became committed to the sport, training every morning and evening to perfect a jump that a Free State student has not accomplished. Little by little, I grew out of the goal, realizing that there are more important objective in life to worry about and to