When I was 8 years old, I thought I was the stealthiest child who ever lived- climbing up the winding, extended braches of the plum tree in my backyard, doing flips and seeing the world go upside down and back again on the bars on the playground, and flying over the smooth ground on my bicycle were all things I could do with perpetual grace and balance. I constantly felt as if I were soaring whenever I wasn’t touching the floor, it was something I always felt very sure of. Though I was fairly clumsy when I was actually on the ground, tripping and making a quick recovery became an artful skill that did not bother me at all.

It was on a perfect sunny day that I was riding my bike and decided to challenge my father to a race around our cul-de-sac and back to our house at the end of the street. As the race began I felt on top of the world on my mountain bike, the world rushing past me as a blur too fast for me to notice the details anywhere except for the end of the road where my eyes were focused and I would soon be turning. However, there at the end was something I would have never expected, a BMW Beamer- perfect and pristine- directly in my path. At that point I had the option to continue straight into that beautiful automobile or veer right and crash into a brick wall. I opted for the wall. As soon as my front tire crashed into the wall my body was propelled forward and my head slammed directly into the brick right before the rest of my body crumpled to the ground. With scraped elbows and knees bleeding, I slowly stood on my feet and rose from the ground, rubbing my throbbing head. Every part of me ached, but I didn’t want to stay on the ground; it was not an option; I needed to get up. Head pulsing, I denied my dad’s pleading offers to carry me and walked home.

The moment I crashed my bicycle my confidence struck a low blow, yet I faced what seemed painful in order to get what I needed. I could have let my dad carry me and taken the easy way out, but I wanted to persevere through the struggle and reach the end because of my own efforts, not someone else completely carrying me. Just as it was my own two feet that carried me back to my house that day, it is my hard work that has carried me through school and will continue to propel me through college. Even after I hit the brick walls in life, I have made a personal promise to myself to get off the ground where it would be easier- and less painful- to lie, and instead, I will continue my journey with the same assurance that eventually I will reach the end goal.