The soles of my feet throb from the scorching hot synthetic grass beneath my cleats. Black rubber pieces of turf engulf the sun’s rays and form blisters on the bottoms of my feet. It’s only eight o’clock in the morning and the devilish heat starts to suffocate my lungs. My face stings from the previous long hours of work invested in yesterday’s introduction to the exhausting next couple of weeks ahead. My chest heaves with a heavy sigh as the blissfulness of my carefree summer is derailed by the stress of these upcoming seven days. These infamous days are referred to by students as “hell week”, and believe me the title does not lie.

My legs, sun kissed from the incredibly lavish summer I had just experienced scream in agony. With each step, I feel every muscle, tendon, and ligament play tug-of-war with each other. My black cleats absorb even more sunlight, and the heat sends my feet into further demise. Tears begin to form along the toes and instep from tedious work. I look around at all the red sunburnt faces of teenage girls ranging from freshmen to seniors.
They’re all going through the same thing I thought to myself. It’s up to you to show how you can handle it.
Each day of training lasted four hours, and they were the longest four hours of my life.

All summer long the majority of players, myself included, at the Girls Soccer Preseason had been following a fitness regime over the past few months. But nothing could prepare us for the unbearable heat during that week. When looking far ahead, across the horizon blurred heat waves created a hallucinatory mirage along the turf field. I came home everyday that week extremely dehydrated and chugged fifteen large water bottles over the course of twenty-four hours. Today looking back, I often question what gave me my strange motivation to keep going during those days, but I am quickly reminded of the reward that followed from me doing so. I had put my best foot forward and I earned recognition for it.
Most athletes hate their sport, but cannot imagine their lives without playing. Sports and athletes have the most unhealthy love/hate relationships. The horrible weather conditions, late night practices, limit pushing injuries, dreadful fitness exercises, and bitter coaches push many away from taking sports to the highest level. I often hear a voice in the back of my mind questioning if all the effort was worth my time, but am quickly reminded of the extreme pleasures I get from soccer.

I live for all the tournaments and rivalry games, knowing that all the extra runs I put in are finally serving their purpose. I live for the love that my teammates and I share as we put on our green and white uniforms after all fighting for a spot on that team, feeling confident that each of us deserve to be playing side by side with one another. I live for scoring my team, coaches, and family hard earned goals and reading my name in the paper. I live for looking up into the stands and seeing all my family members supporting my team and I. But most of all, I live for competition.

Being a part of the varsity girl’s soccer team was my goal, and I did not intend on letting anything stand in my way. Not even blisters on the soles of my feet, dehydration, sunburn, heat exhaustion, sore muscles, a sprained ankle, or illness. They were the most tiresome days of my life and it took all my strength to not buckle under the pressure. I focused on the positive contributions I had made on the field, the compliments, the team spirit, and the respect I had gained from my hard work and determination. I looked forward each day to getting in my car after training and telling my parents about how I did, because I made sure that I always had something to say.

When Coach Heenehan had told me I had been selected for the RGS varsity team was one of my proudest days. That day my efforts had not gone unnoticed and my goal had been reached. I was thrilled to be part of a great program with even greater players and amazing friends. But most importantly, I was reminded of the purpose sports serve for me. Soccer is what makes me confident and strong. It allows me to grow as a player and person as I further push myself to achieve my goals. I unleash my potential and strive for greatness. Preseason was my own personal hell, but a person must struggle in order to appreciate success.