College Essay

 Tell us a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it. Recommended length: 500-650 words

                Blood, sweat, and tears. My high school experience could be accurately summed up in these three words. For every ounce of energy I have applied to my schoolwork, I have poured an equal amount of effort into my athletic endeavors, and for the first three years of my high school career, those athletic experiences revolved around football. I would love to say that I am one of the determined ones, the people that can unwaveringly stick with a decision made long ago, regardless of how negatively it affects them, but I am not. Over this past summer, I learned that one of the best decisions I ever made was simply letting something go.

                The summer before my Freshman year, I followed many of my friends and classmates into making a commitment to the Freshman football team, all ready to start my hopefully illustrious career as a wide receiver. Turns out, things didn’t necessarily go as planned right from the get-go, considering I landed on the defensive line and remained there for the next three years. Go figure. Over the course of those three years, I spent countless hours on the field and in the weight room, practicing, lifting, conditioning, just trying to improve myself in any way possible. But, come my Junior year, something still seemed… lacking. I would go out for practice every day with all the zeal I could feasibly muster, but it all just felt meaningless. For me, every day was exactly the same: get dressed, head out to the field, get yelled at, get hit, hit somebody, more yelling, more colorful now, mostly directed at the offense by this point, hit somebody again, but wait! I didn’t hit him hard enough that time, so I got to bear crawl forty yards. And then it just repeated over and over again like a broken record by your least favorite artist.

                By the spring of my Junior year, I knew what I had to do. I had to break the cycle. Several of my friends, including a few that made that same commitment to Freshman football that I did, all participated in this funny little sport called cross-country. The very prospect of it baffled me; just running? Nobody across a line from you to run into? What was this nonsense? After playing such a high-contact sport for so long, this new challenge appeared fairly easy: start running, and just keep running until you finish. So, as my Junior year came to a conclusion, I thought to myself, “Eh, what’s the worst that can happen?” and joined the cross-country team.

                Looking back on it now, I don’t know what exactly I was expecting, but whatever it was, the reality was much, much more intense. I remember the first time I ran eight miles in the scorching Florida sun, sweat cascading down my body, stinging my eyes and making my clothes stick uncomfortably to my skin, legs screaming at me, wanting desperately to simply shut down, anything to end the continuous strain. But then there was always the finish, a sweet respite where you could recover and relax. And at the finish line is where I found that missing piece of the puzzle that caused me to quit football.

                Family. It didn’t really make much sense to me a few months ago, but recently it finally clicked. The other people on the cross-country team aren’t simply teammates, they’re brothers and sisters, willing to help each other through whatever comes their way, on and off the course. That’s something I never experienced on the football field, and eagerly welcomed into my own life as soon as I could. Now knowing the importance of a strong connection with those I work with, I feel I can use this to my advantage as I advance into college and attempt to take on the world.