Memoir Ideas

Strength

Seven years old and I didn’t know how to swim.  I guess my friends were embarrassed that I still wore floaties around my arms when going to their pools.  So one night minutes before my curfew I was being yelled at by my best friend at the edge of the pool to jump in.  Not being able to swim will force me to have the energy to rise above the water.  Could I have been thinking that then?  She swore she would not be my friend anymore if I didn’t jump in and that she’d get me if I couldn’t get up.  The thing is she never came to get me.  I obviously made it out, but she didn’t help at all.  Who is to blame for a seven year old having to decide between drowning and keeping her friend?  Why was I there with no adult supervision and why the hell did I jump in?  My life could have ended and what I’ve never asked myself is why did I jump?  Why was she my best friend for 12 years?  Kids are a very good judge in character because they have an unfiltered truth.  I wish I wasn’t so scared then to find different friends.  It’s okay to have fear be the reason to back down.  When something doesn’t feel right at any age, sometimes backing down is rising above.

I don’t run for the workout, I don’t run to look better.  I’ve listened to people tell me that they don’t like the work, they like the physical outcome.  I love the work; the work brings the mental outcome.  I once listened to a man tell a story about a young dying girl who ran until her days end.  Her family now has a charity run in her honor every year.  He ran that race and at one point could barely continue, his legs could not carry him any further.  But then he thought, if she could do it, then he better do it.  That’s the struggle in running, rising above the pain, having a reason to continue that allows your mind to push past any physical limitations you think you have.  While I’m not comparing myself to a person struggling with an illness, I am saying there’s a moment in which running became something I am, not something I do.  It’s never easy but some days I feel like I get better at it.  Most days I need it to clear my mind so that I don’t cry; sometimes I need it to make me cry.  Taking a walk around the track after finishing a 5k, face soaked with un-wiped tears.  I’m not sure if people think its sweat or a wind teared face, but what it really is, is the days fear, the days pain washing away.  Even when it frightens the hell out of me, I must always rise above.  I power through the physical pain to accomplish the mental peace.

Aiming for a 4.0 in every class is exhausting.  I don’t always achieve it but at this point in my life my professors know I’m trying for it.  But this wasn’t always the case.  My college career hasn’t always been goal oriented; it was something I felt I had to do.  Once a class came that inspired me, maybe because I was good at it, but I was ready to give it my all.  I already did it in my job so I was more than good at it, I could teach it to struggling students.  I met with a few of them for countless hours and we learned from each other during that study guide.  I knew I had every answer correct, I was going to get my first 4.0, maybe not in the class but on a very difficult assignment.  That professor handed it back on the same day and before we took our finals.  She failed that assignment and told me I am to see her after I take my final.  She thought I cheated.  She judged me by my past grades and I swear she handed it back before we took our test on purpose just to rattle me before the end.  I silently cried the entire time I took my final with my heart beating a million times a minute.  Sometimes your past stays with you and takes you down by the very people who should be inspiring you to do your best.  Someone or something will always knock me down, sometimes even myself, always get back up, and always press on.