How I've Changed

Well, it’s been a year. Y’all have listened to me speak total gibberish about volleyball, track, red contacts, and Dillon’s Starbucks membership. Now I’m supposed to look back and reflect on how I’ve changed. Yikes.

I guess firstly I could name the more obvious and less interesting points… 

• I broke up with the guy I had been dating about a month before our one year anniversary
• I got about 3/4 inch taller
• I was classified as ‘too short’ to be an outside hitter
• I tried to juggle two sports in the same season

Not super impressive, but I also...

• Made a region qualifying time for track as freshman
• Qualified with my volleyball team for a major tourney in Vegas
• Switch positions to libero and, as my coaches say, ‘found a new home’

A photo of my brother and I roughly a year ago
Super cute, right?

Taken earlier this year

Now I could bullshit some bogus ass story about how I matured and grew as a person over this past year, but why would I? Anyone who’s ever been a freshmen in high school can tell you it’s gonna be challenging, it’s gonna test you, and it’s gonna force you to grow up a bit, but these are the best days of our lives right now. Why on earth would I risk tainting it trying to reflect the past year and evaluate myself as a person? I’ll pass thanks. Like everyone, sometimes I’m awesome and sometimes I suck, that’s the gist. So no, I won’t bore you with a far overused speech on self discovery, Let’s just skip that.

Honestly, I think I can say that this blog probably stated out a bit stronger than it ended. However, it wasn’t as heart wrenching an activity as I had first thought, this little project turned out to be something that I may continue to add to. That is the biggest change I could name in myself from the beginning of this year: I give everything a fair chance, also I do it whole heartedly instead of half assing. Thanks to everything I’ve faced this year, I find myself standing at the start line of a whole new kind of race, and I couldn’t be more excited to run it.

Only For Sports

I have NEVER enjoyed getting up at six in the morning. Never. In fact, if I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t do it. By the time I finally, and very reluctantly, roll out of bed, it’s around fifteen to twenty minutes after my alarm started playing music. That’s on a normal day, however, today, I chose to get up around five minutes after six, I’m not sure why, but my body just decided it was a good day and I was getting up early.

As always around this time of year, it was light outside already, but what I saw through the spaces in my blinds this morning was far better than the pale beige land obstructions behind my house. Oh no, this was a beautiful dark silhouette of mountains against a hand painted pink and orange sky. It was beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous, and I couldn’t help but stare in awe. Now I’m not one to go on and on about how ‘the first little yellow flower in my mother’s garden made my week worth enduring purely for the tiny details and blessings in my life.’ No. I honestly couldn’t care much less about that flower, it’s just another plant in the front yard, so what? A deer is probably going to have eaten it by the end of the week. 

Breathtaking view from my bedroom window

So you see my point. I’m not super sentimental or anything, but I did love seeing this sunrise. I mean, it was magical. Almost enough to make me want to wake up early every morning just to see it. But then I remember that sleep is awesome, and as a freshman I don't get nearly enough. The only reason I ever voluntarily get up, let alone, get up, will be only for sports.

But Next Year...

If there’s one thing that I’ve learned my freshman year of high school, it;s that you do not know frustration until you become a double athlete. Period. You just don’t. From last week through the next two, I will have had to miss a minimum of four track meets due to volleyball tournaments. Four. That’s the Saturday meet last weekend, the two day this this weekend, and regions, which yes, I am qualified for as a freshman.

So as I’m minding my own business in first period today, I feel my phone buzz against my hip. Being as my geography teacher was still hanging out in the hall and the bell hadn’t rung yet I checked it, only to see a text from my track coach. I open it thinking, ‘Okay, no big deal, he’s probably just asking why I wasn’t at practice yesterday even though my season is technically over. I’m not going state as a freshman, I barely made time for regionals, and I’m not even on the team for tha-‘

The text that made this my best and worst day of the week so far
and here you can see my PR for the jr varsity 400meter dash (heat 4, lane 2)

I was cut short when I read the words, “Have you entered in the region meet.” I just about died! I was going to the region track meet! As a FRESHMAN! That like doesn’t happen. I was ecstatic… Until I read the next line, “Do you have volleyball?” … Yes. Dammit! Of course my very last tournament of the season falls on the exact same two days as the important meet I wanted to go to… Again! This is freaking Pineview all over again.

After that I was on an emotional roller coaster as I went back and forth texting my coach and my mom trying to figure out if I could go to the meet and then the tournament. Unfortunately, both start at 3:00 on Friday and as I currently don’t have the power to be in two places at once, I won’t be able to make it to the meet this year. But next year…

That's Game.

It's game point in the second game of three in this match. After a jump serve that skimmed just over the net the crowd is screaming, yet all the players hear is silence, some wondering how freshman volleyball could be so intense. The first pass, perfect platform, with a call of “Four! Four! Four!” from across the court, it’s straight to the setter. She sets it, high, soaring, no spin, right to the outside position. The hit, her approach was flawlessly timed and the swing had great follow-through, ending was powerful and well placed. Unfortunately there was a passer, the first touch was a little sloppy, but not quite a shank. The second even worse, the ball flying behind her and towards the back line of the court. Then in comes a third player, desperately sprinting under the ball trying to line up. She makes contact, the ball lightly touching her forearms, and then…

Shank! Her feet stumble, body lurches forward, and the ball she’d worked so hard to pass is fleeting at the stands to the innocent viewers. They swing wildly above their heads to deflect the ball which slams against the wall behind them. Ref blows the whistle and the play is officially over. Our team is jumping and screaming, that’s game. Now just to do it one more time to fifteen. We’re receiving, down and ready on our toes. Steps twice, a gentle toss as we hop into motion then her hard swing. Libero passes high to the ten foot line, running to my position I yell for “Shoot! Shoot!” Setter heard me, the ball is coming close and low to the net. With a quick four step approach, I jump and reach, coming down hard with an open hand and aiming for line.

Image courtesy of SanFranPreps.com 

Problem? There’s a blocker, and she’s timed her jump with mine. The ball slaps against her hands and comes back down on my side. I hop sideways trying to pass it back off the net for my setter and call for a shoot again. She gave it to me, and this time I’m getting past this block. Swinging with a full load up I bring my hitting arm back and as I jump she jumps. She’s ready for another hard hit, but that’s not what I’m giving her. My arm pulls back and hands come up as the ball is lightly tipped over her fingers to land right behind her. The opposing team exchanges glares while we celebrate. The whistle blows, the ref crossing his arms over his body then bringing his hands together in front of him. That’s game.