Personal Narrative: One Step Back To The High Bar

There were many times during practice, I just wanted to give up, my body hurt like crazy and I could feel my heart pounding thunderously through my chest. But I beat on because I knew stopping now would get me

I went home full of excitement and quickly recounted to my mom the success I had that day at baseball. I went to bed that night with more confidence than I thought possible and looking forward to another day of baseball. Made my way through school that day visualizing my performance that afternoon for tryouts. With more excitement than nerve I began the second day of tryouts. Thursday we worked on throwing and catching skills, friday was batting. An area in which I struggled a little more than others but with confidence pouring out of me I stepped into the box. Even with the confidence boost working on my skill I struggled heavily and was not happy with my performance. So trying to keep my confidence up I tried to finish that day of tryouts but I could tell that the coaches were less pleased with my performance that day. There’s not a much faster way to be served a large slice of humble pie than to realize you may not be all that you once thought you were. So keeping that in mind I finished the day doing my best. When we gathered together to make final cuts I could feel my heart beating in

I arrived at practice with my shoes laced, hair pulled back, and the mindset that I was unstoppable. I could play against every member of my team and come out the victor on any given day. It was the first day of practice that week, and challenge matches were scheduled to begin. The team went through our daily shuffle of drills, conditioning, and running to prepare for what was lying ahead. While warming up with my friends, I felt great, talking about homecoming, boys, and a variety of irrelevant events. I felt ready. The odds were in my favor and nobody could stop me.

I learned to enjoy the sport through the loses and the wins. There were times when I was unsure that I would make the cut for a more elite practice, but I did my best and made it through. Things are always scary in the beginning but with courage and persistence I was able to make the cut.

I opened my eyes and looked up to see the bars above me and the suffocating smell of chalk filled my lungs as all eyes peered down at me. I was 8 and being in a situation as extreme as this without your parents is pretty difficult. I was at gymnastics camp in Pennsylvania 4 hours away from my parents. I had no phone and no way of contacting them except through letters. This was my second year at the camp and I loved it. I was on bars trying a squat on jump to high bar which I had previously done by myself. I fell in a funny way and landed on my arm so perfectly that it broke. A complete piece of my elbow broke off. I was rushed to the hospital.

If I didn’t like it, then I didn’t have to continue. I tied a knot in my rope, and tried my best to hold on. I stood at the bar for months with straight knees, and my back in the straightest line I could manage. I stretched every day. I tried my best in class because I didn’t want them to tell me that I wasn’t good enough. We had extra classes to prepare us, and we had excersizes that we had to do at home. I did them all the time. I could tell I was getting better. I was getting so much stronger. My leg was getting higher every day.Then we received another

My hands are shaking, my skin is covered in goose bumps awaiting this big moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life, I’ve been working so hard for this moment and it’s finally about to come true. Looking back on my life I realize that the countless hours I have spent in the gym trying to come as close to perfection as I could at the game. It was not easy, but if there is one thing I have learned about life is that nothing worth having comes easy and work has to be required. What if my name does not get called? What if all that time and sacrifice I put in the gym is irrelevant? So what. Just because the you reach a road block that does not that mean you stop chasing the dream. My mindset was that I worked so hard for this dream

Have you ever been so desperate for something that you redevelop your motive in its entirety? Throughout my life I’ve found myself placed in this frightening situation multiple times; the most confusing of which would be what I’ve endured this year. People in their 20s have it rough anyway. We’re old enough to feel like we’re supposed to know what we’re doing, yet young enough to be clueless and it still be acceptable; then there’s those of us who think we’ve got it all figured out only to be proven tremendously wrong. I have learned, however, that being tremendously wrong can lead you right where you need to be.

When the coach blew his whistle, the other girls effortlessly flew by me. By the conclusion of my fourth lap, the coach heeded no awareness of me - the ultimate person to pass the finish line. Back compressed against the wall, heaving and sore, I bemoaned even considering myself competent for tryouts and for embarrassing myself.

After a much needed time bringing in this poem’s meaning, I have realized that my life is very much alike to this stunning and deep piece of literature. Much like The Road not Taken, the way my life worked and happened correlates to this differing and new road. Sweetness was me, and I made sure that people knew who he was. Sweetness was also like you, just an average boy growing up and playing sports. When I went to college, that’s when things changed.

As soon as I rolled up to the tryouts I soon began to realize that I was no longer the best. There were kids way bigger, way faster, and way stronger than I was. I had just wrapped my head around that it was way too late to do

"She had a solid reputation as a crisp, vivid writer of short stories set in Louisiana, where she had lived for 14 years" ("A Look Back"). I wrote many of my stories about experiences in my life. I always loved to read and learn new things as a child. As I grew older, there were many hard times and that helped me to be the lady I was. Some of my stories were very well known, and others not so much. My rough childhood, mother, and family friends influenced me to write; the short stories and novels I wrote were influenced by my favorite authors which caused me to write about controversial topics.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, I was a Hostess at John Cutter’s Steakhouse in Las Vegas, Nevada. This had been my job for the past couple months since I had quit working at my first job. It was slow and quiet that day, the door was right next to the Hostess stand like most restaurants and all I heard was a family eating and discussing something uninteresting on the patio outside. My boyfriend got me that job; it made pretty good money for a 17-year-old. It was summer of 2015, July to be exact. Everything seemed content and I was happy at that moment, little did I know that was all going to change very soon.

The thought of why this was happening? Wondering how I was going to be okay. Why my mom was asking those weird questions? Why she was always sad? I never thought this would ever happen. It was something new. But the thing that killed me the most was how it all went down. My life is going to change either for the better or for the worst.

It got to the point where I just wanted to give up and try another sport, but I kept working anyway. I worked harder and harder every day until I had finally succeeded. After putting in all of that time during practice just working on my flip turn, I was super proud of myself. I was so thankful for those instructors taking their time to step aside to help me perfect my turn.