Weight Trainer

Here I am staring down my competition down through the net. Every blink becomes more intimidating than the first throwing the opposing athlete off. Nothing else in this moment matters but earning the next crucial point to fight back into the match. The echoes of the fans chanting, “one more point, on more point,” ring in my ears as I try to zone out my surroundings. I look over to my right and I see my mother. She nods at me letting me know that it’s okay if I make mistakes because we are not all perfect, but there is no room for error. I’ve worked for this moment for four years and I don’t want to let it go so easily. As a senior, this is my last chance for everything. These final moments are my last digs, sets, and kills. This was my last

Day one of my transformation began as I stepped into the newly remodeled weight room. The room is brightly lit with weight mats and benches covering the open space, making it difficult to walk past the other athletes. Our weight trainer at the time, Kaz, greeted me near the back of the room near the paper packed desk. As he started to explain to me that the culture of the weight room would intimidate many especially females, I belittled the thought that I would be phased. I slowly made my way to the enormous white board that listed every athlete that had a customized work out, I failed to realize that I was the only female that was listed. My name was within the mix of 6’ 4” football players, speedy soccer players, and mediocre

There seemed to be a theme of pushing each other the maximum potential because if one fails we all fail. I constantly finding myself feeling sharp pains in my lower back, knees, biceps, triceps, quads, and calves. Every muscle in my body hurt every day for nearly ninety days. I feared school almost everyday because I knew I would have to face my worst enemy: stairs. To lift my feet less and a foot was more difficult than pouring molasses at a fast pace. Occasionally when I lifted, I joined in with the football team, these were the days when I wanted to push myself further than ever. I keep up with the boys but, I would from time to time duck off and puke in between sets. The vision of me puking is disgusting and vulgar, but it didn’t phase me. The coaches would tell me to sit out and take it easy but my competitiveness made it difficult to know when to stop. The head football coach was my gym teach back in elementary school, so he watched me grow into a strong individual on the inside and out, but he noticed that I was pushing myself to new limits that he has never seen before. He would constantly tell me that the pain I feel only hurts as much as you let it, and I thought those same words between every set, during every warm up, and before every