reflection

My alarm goes off and I fall into the dazed, half-conscious state all high school students know too well. I glance to my right, and see the neon red light that flashes the all too deadly three numbers; six: three-zero. The day starts off in a rush and I am out of the house by seven. As my car zooms down the highway, the streets are unusually calm. This is no ordinary high school weekday. No, today I am not a high school student; I am a rower. It is a Saturday and I will not sleep in. I am out of the house by seven. Off to the boathouse to enter a whole new meaning of a ‘Saturday’. Who am I? Tony Sharp, sophomore in high school.

            “Seven, eight, nine, ten”. Finally the sprint is over. My exhausted body slumps over, begging for some drops of Gatorade. My torn and blistered hands burn with the pain from a hard row. The cool breeze of the bay whips the side of my face and instantly relaxes my body. I look out across the distance I have covered. It is not enough. I need to be the best. “One more piece!” my coach yells. Success drives me to work myself to pure exhaustion. Why do I do this? It’s ten in the morning. I could still be sleeping. I do not have to do this. So why? I love what I do and I will do it to the best of my ability. This is my boat and I am the engine. There is no excuse of a weak motor, I determine my own speed. I am Tony Sharp, and I love to row.

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