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.
