Changing Beliefs

January 24, 2018
By popi_vorias729, Dexter, Michigan
More by this author Follow popi_vorias729
popi_vorias729, Dexter, Michigan
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Author's note:

I wss inspired by my coaches to write this.

I patiently waited my turn as I sat on the cold, gray bench. It was then called on deck so I rose and grabbed my pole and stood next to the runway. As I anxiously watched the others sore through the air, but unable to complete the challenge. It was my turn to show my coaches and teammates what I had inside myself. I quickly made my way on the rough runway and my spikes situated themselves within the turf. My eyes couldn't stay still on one object as I tried to forget what I had to do to lessen my nervousness. They fixed themselves on the throwing circle where I was to compete after my last attempt. Soon I ran focusing on the pale blue and the smells of freshly cut grass and cow poop until it planted my pole into the box and flew through the sky, up and over the bar. My body began to turn, and unfortunately knocked the bar off. After, I knew I had to redeem my spirits in the circle because the team needed me, and they were what I was fighting for.
I trudged off the pits while coached encouraged me on my performance even though I know I could’ve done better. I slid off my spike and threw on my throwing shoes that had a bottom as smooth as ice. Sprinting to the throwing circle, one of my teammate assured me I still had plenty of time. As I tried to regather my thoughts I looked around to see who my competition would be. The throwers from the other team had already one upped in weight and height. They all had at least one hundred pounds on me and a few inches. Negative thought that lingered in the back of my mind slowly creeped back to the front. Doubting myself already because I felt like a toothpick compared to them.
I ran into my coach and he told me I came just in time to throw with the rest of the girls. He said I had about five minutes to warm up before the real deal was upon us. Stepping into the circle even for warmups made my stomach wrench. The team looked up to me to win the throwing events for the points. I needed to win for them. As I took my first warmup throw my teammate, Caleb, watched to give me pointers while my coach was distracted in conversation. I wound up and started my spin. It felt so foreign to me even though I have practiced this millions of time. Releasing the discus at what i thought was the right time, it wobbles and looks like a baby trying to throw a frisbee. A volunteer then announced that it was time to start. I was in shock because I had only done one terrible warmup.
One by one the names of the throwers were listed off as I stood off to the side waiting and watching. Then it was my turn, I was called so I grabbed my two favorite discussed and walked into the netting that surrounded the circle. I placed on discus down and stepped into the circle. Before I throw, I run through my routine which consists of walking to the front of the circle, kick the front of the circle to get an audible clunk, look out upon the sea of lines that go back every twenty feet, and finally walk to the back of the circle and tap my foot five time while I set up my body in just the right position.
I started my spin and felt my feet scrape on the cement the released the discus with a clumsy wobble. Feeling my face turn red I stepped out and waited to hear my mark. The second attempt didn’t go much better. On my third and final attempt I told myself to just relax and take a deep breath while my lungs sucked in oxygen and became full. Out of the corner of my eye I could see my entire family watching me. My sister, Chloe, who is also a thrower screamed “You’ve got this Popi, come on!”. I placed my feet to right where I wanted them, bent my knees, and rocked my arm back and forth. I began my spin feeling my muscles contract then release as I kept my control across the circle. I released the discus, making sure to keep my thumb down to minimize the wobble. The discus cut through the air with a sharp whistle. It soared through the air with a surprisingly nice arch. As I turned and walked out of the circle, the crowd went silent like crickets during the middle of the night. Everyone flashed me giant smile as we all waited anxiously for the final mark. Then my jaw dropped all the way to the ground as the announcer read my mark of 107’5”. I ran to my assistant coach and he gave a huge bear hug. The crowd applauded while they were still in shock that a tiny beanstock could do what I do.
Eventually my coach made his way over to mean. He told me how that was the most amazing throw he has ever seen my do and that my technique was on right on the bullseye. I challenged everyone's beliefs that a thrower had to be big and bulky, as well as I challenged my own beliefs that I could throw as far as I could because I was simply too small. I left the meet feeling like I could break and boundary that was in my way. Nothing would've happened unless I never gave up on myself and broke my own personal walls.

Similar books


This book has 0 comments.

Parkland Book