Every person has that one thing in their life, whether it be an activity, a person, or a craft, they all hold something very dear to their heart. They each have that one passion in their life that defines them as a person, that will always be there for them no matter the circumstance, that one thing that they cherish above all else. For me, that passion is running. I will never forget the joy I would feel when the opportunity to run came up, and once I was able to start track and field with a club team, my career, and my love, took off. My coach introduced me to the shot put and the discus, two things I do not believe I could ever live without today. It was not until high school, however, that I began with hurdles, as my coach wanted me to attempt being a multi-athlete, competing in the heptathlon. Seven events over the course of two days; two throwing events, two running events, two jumping events, and the hurdles. I loved the sound of it, even the dreaded 800 meter run and the jumps! I started working on hurdles as soon as I could, and I soon fell in love again. Though doing the hurdles had to of been the biggest struggle I have yet to experience, I began breaking down those walls faster and faster the harder I worked, and the more passionate I got. Working with a great and knowledgeable hurdle coach over the summer I was able to come back to the indoor season with far more confidence and talent. This outdoor season, however, was where it all started. Not only was I captain of the team, but we also received a great new coach who not only had knowledge beyond his years, but had the heart of a true coach, and the respect for our hard working team. Sprinting, throwing, and hurdling in almost every meet I had a lot to work on at practice. While concentrating on myself I was also attempting to coach both the throws and the hurdles, while continuing to lead the team as a whole. It was a lot, but there has not been a single moment that I have not loved.
The issue came after a week in Orlando, Florida with the Linganore Marching Band. The trip was amazing and very relaxing, however, it was a week away from the track and although I was still running almost every day, I had not been able to do much along the lines of throwing and hurdling practice. So, one can imagine my excitement to go to the track once we arrived home Saturday night. I went up to the track Sunday afternoon and could not hold my anticipation to step on my home-away-from-home once again. After warming up for a few minutes I started setting up the hurdles, the one thing I missed more than anything while in Florida. Well, after this point everything seems a bit fuzzy. The next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital bed asking my mother if we were still in Disney World. Turns out I had called her at some point, crying and saying how I had woken up on the track and did not know what had happened. Needless to say I was very shocked and confused at the time; my head was pounding, my arm pulsing, and my face hurt as if it had been ran over by a plow. I wish I could say exactly what had happened, but the concussion I had obtained that day has prevented any memories to resurface. All I can assume is that I was attempting a three-step approach down the trail leg side of the hurdles, as that was how they were set up when I went back a few days later. I would assume my left foot got caught up in the corner of the hurdle and I went down, smacking my knee, head and face pretty badly into the track. I am sure I tried to brace myself by putting out my arm, which caused a small hairline fracture to develop in my right elbow. I had many deep cuts and road rashes on my face and knee, but that was not what bothered me. The fact that my right arm, my throwing arm, was now in a sling was what was scaring me more than anything else.
With less than thirty days left of my high school career and my senior, outdoor season, the last thing I needed was an injury of this magnitude. I am still not sure what will happen in the near future; if I’ll be able to run in counties or if I will even be able to throw before the summer starts, but I do know that I have faith in my body to heal itself fast and well, and that we will come back stronger and more passionate than ever before. Going to the meets now, watching my team run and throw, it kills me inside, however, I know my time will come and I know that being there for my team is the best thing I can do given my situation. The passion I hold for running, for throwing and hurdling, and my passion for my team, are the things getting me through the days right now. The fact that they still look to me as their captain even though I cannot run beside them, and still ask me for help even though I cannot show them, means the world to me. Yes, I am incredibly upset about what has happened, and there is not a day that goes by that I do not regret trying a three-step after a week off… But there is no other place I would rather be then with my team and my coach at practice each day. Timing them and assisting them at the track meets, and being able to be there for each of them when they need me. They will never understand the influence they have had on my life at this time, and I hope to be able to express it to them one day with them understanding the full effect they have had. I cannot wait to get back on the track, and though I know it may take a while for me to feel comfortable throwing again with this arm, and jumping over something that knocked me out the last time, I have faith that my passion will keep me going and that my coaches and teammates will support me with each step I take.