6 am on the dot every morning my alarm screams at me. The bright light of my phone pierces my eyes while the rising sun peeks through my blinds. Racing to get ready, making sure to grab everything I need for the day. The two clumps of white rubber, plastic and fabric sitting by the back door are always my main priority. The cheer shoes that have carried me through many seasons of exciting competitions, hard practices and late night football games.

Little did I know these shoes would walk with me through 4 years of varsity cheer. Making a vivid memory of freshman year tryouts. My brand new shoes radiate off the gym floor. Trembling as butterflies make their way around my stomach. 13 year old me stands in the corner terrified of the upperclassmen. Just as my new coaches learned who I was, so did the shoes that carried me. These glowing shoes would soon start to fall apart. Black turf stains the laces from Friday night football games. Holes start to form in the soles from the never ending tumbling practices and the tops start to rip from the stress of many cheer competitions to come. 

They also carried me through many successes. Going through millions of competitions, my first one will always stick in my mind. The blue mats in the warm up room were covered in lipstick and bows as girls scurry through the gym. The cool air from the fans blows on my legs, putting a chill through my body. As we prepare for the first competition of the season my laces are tied tight. With the feeling of my shoes hugging my feet as I prepare for my tumbling pass. The tumbling pass these shoes have seen a million times. Excitement of the coaches and fans lit up the room as butterflies raced in my stomach. That day is something I could have never done without my shoes carrying. 

A tall woman dressed sharply enters the gym. Long brown pin straight hair flowing down the back of her shirt. She will scold you like a disappointed father, love you like a mother and push you to be the best version of you like a sister. As she organizes the tryout forms, the younger girls shiver in fear. Her name is coach. Just like I had said before my coaches had to get to know me like my shoes did as I broke them in. I was terrified of my coach my freshman year but now that I'm older she's just like a family member. She's helped me through a lot of mental blocks along with celebrating some great accomplishments.  

The last few years these shoes have carried me through have been incredible. These white clumps of fabric and rubber shaped me to be the person I am today. Overcoming my social awkwardness of freshman year to being best friends with my cheer team this year freshman. These shoes are heavy with the memories they hold.