You wake up buzzing with excitement. It has been a year since the last nationals. You spend all year preparing and planning for this day. You competed in all of the regionals and checked all the boxes to be here. You arrive early because you would rather be early than late. The day begins and then goes by in a blur. One routine, then the next, then the next. Before you know it, it’s time for your last routine. You realize that this is your last nationals with some of your teammates, and that is to make you feel sad, but you push the sadness away with excitement. It’s time for awards. You’ve been through this before, the suspense and the anticipation. They begin awards, but this time it’s silence. You did your best and yet your name is not called. You start to feel disappointment and fear of what might happen next, but then you come off. And nothing happens. No yelling, no screaming, just silence for a second. Then out of nowhere, you hear, “I’m proud of you. Look at what you’ve overcome. You did your best and that’s all you can do.” It takes a second for these words to sink in. To realize that there’s no anger. We pack up our bags and say one last goodbye to the teammates we’ll never forget, and as we walk out those doors, we feel a sense of peace. Although you are disappointed in the results, just for a second, you can take a minute to be grateful for the opportunity handed to you. The memories made and forever friendships. You go to bed in your hotel that night feeling okay with the world and everything that has happened so far. And hopeful for what might be next.
