Dear myself:

I’m six feet and four inches tall and wear a size 13 shoe, and on my feet are my track spikes. I’m in a white tank top track suit, with a big red B on the front. My feet sink into the ground as I walk across the football field to the starting line. It’s almost time for the race. All the competitors line up in each lane and wait for the officials command. POP! The race has begun.

My track spikes are more than just a pair of shoes with spikes on the bottom. They are always with me for every practice, every meet, and anytime that I need them. I remember when I was at the SEC Red Division Regional Track Meet; the Meet that decides whether or not I get to go to the State Meet I lined up for my first high jump attempt. The height was starting at 5’10”, fairly high but not a huge challenge, I made it over on my first attempt. The bar was raised to 6’0”, previously my Personal Record; I hear my name being called out signaling that it was my time to jump. I line up and look down at my track spikes; I get a huge jolt of excitement mixed with nervousness from my toes to my head. I look back up and begin my approach, going full boar and counting each step as I go, and I leap with all my might and I find myself on the landing pad. I look up at the bar and see the bar sitting on top of its stands. I’m filled with joy and I backwards somersault off of the pad and celebrate with my buds. But that’s not the end, the bar gets raised to 6’3”, I whole new level. I go up onto my first attempt and clip it with my heel on my way down, my second attempt I had perfect form, but I didn’t get up enough. I line up for my final attempt, take a deep breath and go for it. I get up and over, just to look at the bar faintly bounce but to roll off. I was devastated.

After that jump the score keeper walks over to me to give me a handshake and tells me “Congratulations! You’ve qualified for States in Second Place!” I look over at my coaches and friends and realize what just happened. Hugs, fist pumps, and high fives all around! I’ve qualified for the Division 1 State Track Meet. After all of the celebrating, I take another look down at my track spikes and get that same jolty feeling. I wouldn’t be anywhere close to where I am now. See you next track season.

-Myself