I'm writing this as I sit and wait for my Ice bath to fill up, like many throwers i wasn't particularly gung-ho about the sport when I first began. I originally only did the sport because my science teacher in 8th grade asked me to come out for the track team and well why not. I spent the majority of my 8th grade season just throwing with hardly any direction and ended up with a season best of 40'6".
Flash forward to my freshman year of track at Olympia. The main reason I continued the sport was some old fashioned sibling rivalry with my older brother. I wanted to be better than him at something so I came out for the throws. I remember the first few weeks of practice we would do push ups on one side of the field and would run to the other side and do the same thing all over again. If it wasn't for my older brother I probably wouldn't have made it through the first few days of practice, but I had never been able to play a sport before. I wasn't exactly the most athletic of kids and I wanted to beat my brother at his own sport.
I spent the first few weeks we were actually allowed to throw just throwing constantly. The head coach Jason Greer had told the team that we were going down to a meet in Miami, the Sam Burley, and I knew I wanted to go. My heart was set on it. I fought and clawed my way to something like 37 feet and I remember my coach called me into his office and told me I was going. I was ecstatic, but was I really worthy to go, or was I just going to embarrass myself? A few days later we go down to Miami and I throw something so bad it doesn't even get measured at the meet.Yet, this meet might be the most important of my entire career.
The next day I spent just chilling by the tent and eating chicken wings. I remember the sun going down and the meet winding down and then finally it's time for the 4x400 meter race. I was just chilling with my bag not really interested tired and just wanting to get home and I look over and see the gun fire. They're off and we are in the lead. The runners are neck and neck and I could feel the rush. I remember the baton going to John Armstrong. If I remember correctly he was the anchor leg at the time and boy was he fast. I remember cheering my heart out. We got second, yet it didn't matter. I was in love with track and field I knew I wanted it to be a part of my life.
It took about a year for me to realize that that was the sole reason I was taken to that meet and I will forever be thankful for being taken to that meet. I think back on this past week, probably the most hectic week of the year, the Florida Relays. The mistakes I made due to the pressure, taking too many warm up throws and tiring myself out, getting too mentally exhausted by the pressure and adrenaline to the extent I became a sloppy technician, and letting my own expectations bring me to ruin.
I finished this past week a somewhat disappointing 3rd in the shot put with a throw of 53-6.75. However, with this meet under my belt I look forward to this next few weeks before states and think of all the opportunities I have to learn from my mistakes, and become a better athlete and competitor. At the same time I'm straining to hold myself back and not over-train because as my coach says more practice is always worse than the right amount of practice. I hope everyone else can reflect back on their week and use it as an opportunity to improve and not dwell on what could have been. Well, my ice bath is ready and I have to go.
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