Essay #1

Essay #1

High School has a variety of sports to choose from, starting with the favorites such as football, soccer, baseball and the "other" sports like tennis, golf, and/or handball. From the beginning I wanted to join a sport that was different than the rest, yet the choices I had just weren't doing it for me. Until a good friend of mine mentioned he was in mountain bike, at that moment I noticed how perfect that sport would be. Soon after joining I found out how intense and terrifying it could be riding a bike on a mountain, but fear kept me coming back. Fear isn't something I feel often, and as crazy as I might sound I kind of like it. Over time the fear was replaced with excitement, and I grew to love every aspect of the sport. Riding through trails at great speeds was too much fun and, believe it or not, even falling gave an adrenaline rush that actually made me feel good, until the pain set in later of course. Practice days were Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays and our coach Mr. Salcido had us doing difficult trails in order to prepare us for our first mtn. bike race. After practice on a picture perfect Tuesday afternoon I was packing my gear, exhausted, wanting to go home and stuff my face with food, when my coach had to make an announcement. "This Saturday we are going to ride with three other teams and its going to be long, so make sure you bring lots of water!", "something different" I thought to myself.

The week flew by and Saturday came, everything the same. The only difference was that there were a hell of a lot more riders this time around, and the sun felt like it was only a couple miles away. Our practice started with a long windy pavement road going downhill named The Big Bitch, the name coming from how much of a bitch it was to climb it, it was nothing new.  We headed down gaining a ton of speed, but it wasn't enough for me. I was being held back by a friend of mine and I wanted to pass him, so I moved to his left and planned a course; However, just as I moved to the left he also moved in that direction. "Okay" I thought, " I'll just go to the right", but as soon as a clear view of what was ahead was in my sight, I knew why he moved. Up ahead was a huge pile of rocks that had fallen off the cliff, and I was going way to fast to even try to avoid them: I braced myself for the collision. The rocks made me flip along with the bike, making me land on my left knee and arm. I lay on the pavement a bit pissed off because of how I fell, but soon got over it and continued down the hill. It wasn't till I was in front of the next trail that I realized that my arm was dripping blood and my sock was no longer white but a dark red. Blood wasn't a rare sight so I switched my attention to what mattered, the trail. This was a new trail for me named Backbone, so I was a bit nervous, naturally I asked questions. "How is this hill?" I asked my coach, "It's a bit technical, but just take it slow and you'll be fine", "OK" I replied, "how long is it?" "not long, two maybe three miles long". I finished with the classic "Alright". I looked over my right and my friend was smiling at me the kind of smile that makes you uncomfortable and said, "you're gonna die", "thanks" I replied sarcastically. We headed down the hill in single file, due to the fact that its a narrow trail, and not ten seconds into it I fell: stopping everyone behind me. Enraged I got up and continued, only to fall again. Embarrassed I got up, apologized for stopping everyone, and continued. I fell once again for the third, fourth, and fifth time. The level of embarrassment and rage was at an all time high, but eventually I got to the bottom of the hill.

At the bottom one of the other coaches asked, "what's your name?" "I suck I know" I thought, but then he put his hand out to be shaken. Shocked I shook his hand and couldn't hold back a confused face that I'm sure he noticed. As I shook his hand he said " you got up every time and controlled your emotions, that's impressive", "Thank you" were the only words that came up to mind. The rest of the ride is a blur. As I drove back home I felt a change in me, almost as if the events that occurred gave me wisdom. I realized that what happened to me while mtn. biking also happens in life. Life's a bitch, it'll knock you down and keep knocking you down till you give up. The key is to never give up. Besides the fact that I was told I might need stitches, I felt happiness with what happened that day. I sat and watched TV with a smile while I put an ice pack on my throbbing knee.