My whole life had only ever revolved around school; there was never a day when the thought didn’t cross my mind. This mindset was built into my head around middle school, as I lived the honor roll life and never fell behind a report card full of A’s for three years. Sure, it wasn’t easy, but it feels nice to look back at it occasionally. Middle school was three years of my life just spent on studying and homework. I especially remember sixth grade in particular because it was my COVID year – online learning sucked and procrastination was my friend. Nonetheless, I still had good times as I made friends and grew as a student. Not only that, but my sports interest grew as well in that time: I first joined cross country in sixth grade, took a break in seventh grade (due to COVID), and returned in eighth grade as well as joined the track and field team in the spring. Outside of school, I picked up lacrosse as a hobby in mid-eighth grade and loved it. I also made many new friends in those three years after trying to adjust properly from elementary school, which proved to be a difficult task at first. Even though it seemed like everything was smooth sailing and A-OK, I thought it best to just leave all of it in the past and forget about it.

However, things took a turn in high school. Almost all of my friends from middle school went to different schools, and I was left all alone with barely anybody who came to my school too. The transition was rough and difficult as I learned how to properly manage my time and keep up with all of my schoolwork. Even though it was my freshman year, I was barely keeping my head above water – I didn’t even mention that I wasn’t doing anything special that year! The reason why I chose not to do anything extra was because I wanted to get a good feeling about high school life and accustom myself to the new norm. I realize now how much of a mistake this was. To this day, I still wish that I had been more active, like joining my school’s track team in my freshman year. The thing is, this regret first developed in my sophomore year. The thought haunts me constantly, and it’s never gotten any better since then.

The only way I would’ve included myself in any extracurricular activities was by dedicating myself to reaching straight A’s by the end of the year. Lo and behold, I achieved it with blood, tears, and sweat. It was a bumpy ride, but it was worth it. After that, I knew that I wanted to join a school sport, track. The reason is that my best friend was already on the team as a freshman, and he inspired me to join. Not only that, but I had so much fun in eighth grade on the team, that I thought I’d have just as much fun next school year. I was wrong… I had a BLAST on the team! It was so diverting to be a part of the team, compete, and have fun with all of my new friends! I met various new people and built new friendships along the way in just one semester! I was finally happy to be doing something that I loved for once – I got to practice with fellow student-athletes who put a smile on my face while around them. Track & Field made coming to school every day worthwhile, which is why I was heartbroken, devastated, and torn to shreds when I had to leave…

It’s absolutely hilarious how people shift from one emotion to the opposite in a flash, like mood swings. I could never circulate that concept well in my mind, simply because I didn’t understand how the human brain functioned, nor how fragile an average teen’s emotions were. I, on the other hand, grew up resilient and strong, thinking that all this talk about mental health awareness was complete bull. This was drilled into my head and stayed there, existing as my mentality. Just recently (preferably right after the decision was made for me to leave the team), I found out that this was not the case. My emotions flooded my head, all blending like a painter’s palette. There was anger, regret, frustration, hatred, but most importantly, sadness. I did not sleep well that night, or the following night. Ever since then, I felt empty and useless inside. All of a sudden, coming to school every day didn’t feel so worthwhile anymore. On the second day of the semester, the questions started to roll in. Lots of people on the team were beginning to wonder where I had gone and why I left. The answer was simple: I got two B’s on my report card for the first semester. Two. B’s. The reason why I left the sport that I very much enjoyed was because I got two B’s. I was forced off the one thing that brought me happiness in my sophomore year because of two B’s.

I never thought I’d ever say this, but for the first time in my life, I truly felt depressed.

First, I blamed my parents for making that decision without my consent. Then, I blamed myself for “not being academically stable.” No, it’s not my fault, it’s everyone else’s fault. It’s my parents’ fault for having sky-high standards. It’s my teachers’ fault for making the classes too difficult to keep up with, specifically my history teacher and my math teacher for giving me those two B’s on my report card. It’s my counselor’s fault for following through with what my parents demanded instead of consulting me about it. Like I said, it’s not my fault. I refuse to blame myself for something so atrociously uncontrollable, especially when so many of the other athletes would have killed to achieve my grades in such challenging classes. That’s the sad part – I left because of such an abysmal reason while everyone else got to stay and have fun, even if they were barely passing. I felt like a disappointment brought into this world, considering that I let everyone down who had high hopes for me. It ranged from the athletes to the coaches themselves. No one was happy that I left, and many had been asking me if I were to ever return. I couldn’t give a definite response because I didn’t know the answer myself. As much as I want to return, I don’t think it’s possible because of the packed schedule I have planned for junior year. I let my team down, I let my coaches down, and I let my best friend down. I’m on a roll.

Although I never felt the same after I quit, I realized something important: it wasn’t about the destination, it was about the journey and the friends I made along the way. It sounds cheesy, but it’s true. My friends made track fun and the journey unforgettable because they’re the greatest treasure of all. They made my sophomore year an outstanding experience which I will always treasure because they were right by my side when I needed them. In the end, it never mattered to finish first as long as I had my friends’ company. I dedicate all my accomplishments to them; the ones who supported me my whole journey. I’ve learned to accept and forget in my time away, even if it was difficult to embrace. I couldn’t have been more grateful for this treasure called friendship. No matter how long the struggle may be, how dark the feeling is, or how deep the regret is, my emotions will drown out in the blue. I feel no more sadness.

The greatest treasure of all… my friends