The Power Within

The taste of chicken was getting old for me at this point. I became so used to eating

the same thing everyday I couldnt even enjoy my favorite type of meat anymore. It was the

same daily routine. I waited impatiently by the door, tapping my foot rapidly ready to beat

other people to the microwave.

This was my everyday lunch routine during the Winter of 2016. My sophomore year

I made the choice to become a two sport athlete. Basketball and Wrestling. The way my

season worked was when I didn't have basketball games I had wrestling practice, everyday

in between I had basketball practices and on the weekends wrestling tournaments.

Month of February.

6:45 am my alarm rings. I wake up to the sound of my annoying iphone alarm that

wakes me every morning, with heavy eyes from lack of sleep from the homework that kept

me up. My body aches as I roll out of bed. I put on my clothes that I set up from the night

before, make my way to the bathroom dragging my feet with eyes half closed.

7:05am I make my way downstairs. Usually, i'm the type of person that does not eat

breakfast, I just was never hungry that early in the morning. But, doing two sports I forced

myself to eat. I knew I was going to need the energy for later on. I open up my refrigerator,

squint from the bright light and reach for the chilling mason jar with overnight oats, take a

spoon, slump down onto a chair and eat. This was one out of 3 meals of my day.

11:30am, advisory time. Every single day I looked forward to advisory. It only meant

20 more minutes till lunch. My knee moved in a constant up and down motion as I watched

students pass the hallways through the window. I don't remember much of advisory. I only
remembered the crave for food. I looked forward to eating. Snacking wasnt a thing for

me so the only food in my stomach at this point were the overnight oats I had for breakfast.

Everyday I knew what I had for lunch. My mouth became familiar of the taste of chicken

and its rubber like texture. My food wasnt even good anymore but, I just wanted

something. I needed something to slightly fill my stomach. Chicken and broccoli was the

second prepared meal of everyday that my mom would make me every Sunday night. I had

it 7 days a week week for lunch and dinner. On lucky days she would throw in some

cauliflower.

2:30pm-6:00pm. Depending on the day I either had practice or a game. As captain of

the girls basketball team I would prioritize basketball whenever it overlapped with

wrestling. It was tough on me mentally trying to push myself through a game or practice

when all that was on my mind was my last meal. Sports used to be outlet for me to

decompress and get away from school and it was, except I couldn't escape the feeling of

temptation every day of breaking my diet, or the wanting of time to pass so that I could

sleep and numb this feeling but, these feelings followed me everywhere. For 3 whole

months. The same feeling of my strained my back. The pinching and aching in every joint of

my body ached from every little movement I did.

11:00pm. When the sun fell and night came my stomach grumbled asking for food

but, I didn't want to give it any. Some nights my hunger was so bad I genuinely thought my

stomach started eating the surroundings organs. My body was weak. I needed food, but I

needed to win. Every night I feel asleep to the tossing and turning in order to distract

myself from my empty stomach. The discomfort of lying there knowing that I have the

power to just get up and eat drove me crazy. My self control was being tested.
 The way wrestling works is that we are categorized in weight classes. 101lbs, 106

lbs, 111 lbs, and so on. The tournaments before CIFs I had to maintain the weight class of

111 lbs. Im a small girl, i'm 51, competing in two sports, maintaining weight should be

easy I thought. I started the season at 116 lbs. So why didn't I compete in that weight class?

Growing up I competed in the martial art of defense and grappling aka Judo. One of

my best friends, Sarina also did Judo. Growing up we were put up against each other. I had

to fight my best friend. Every tournament growing up we would compete for 1st place. It

was the most awkwardest and most uncomfortable thing. We would have no coaches

coaching us, and we had no one cheering. It's just something we absolutely HATED and

wanted to avoid as much as possible. Why would I want to purposely fight my best friend.

So that meant dropping 5 pounds and going on a strict meal prep diet.

The week of CIF was one of the hardest weeks of my life. In order for Sarina and I to

compete in CIFs I had to drop down to 106lbs. I went from 116 lbs to 111lb to 106lbs. My

diet became so strict I had to start watching my water weight. During my basketball games

I would wear a long blue dri fit shirt so that I could sweat more and would limit my water

intake. Keep in mind I was barely eating at this point. I became so afraid of being of being

Overweight or not qualifying that I switched my meal preps to salad. I practiced 10x as

hard to make sure I was burning fat and worked out in hoodies to sweat more. I did not

want the reason I did not compete was because I didn't make weight. The thought of how

many people including myself I would disappoint if that would have happened. Especially

because of the hell I put myself through this season.

I needed food. It was after a hard long basketball game against Grossmont High. A

day before CIFs. The whole game I had my blue dri fit compression under my jersey and I
was sweating bullets. [I was infuriated at my shirt I wanted to rip it off]. I couldn't though, I

needed it to sweat. The entire game I felt terribly weak. I felt light, fragile as a feather. I

reach for my water bottle and the thought in my head was dont drink much you need to

lose weight After the loss I am angry because of the lack of food in my body. I threw my

stuff in the car and I sat in complete silence. Without food it affected me physically yes, but

emotionally I was angry. I hated not being able to eat whenever I wanted or whenever I

pleased and what was I doing it for? For a medal? I wanted to break my diet but, I was mad

that I couldn't bring myself too. That part of me that wanted to succeed, and that other part

of me that did not want to disappoint distracted me from those thoughts.

The other distracting noise was my mother. The same chatter she always gives me

after my basketball games. You should have done this, Why didn't you do this, when you

are playing defense you need to do this, drive the ball in more, shoot more, slide your feet

and there I was in silence. Its nothing I havent heard before. I don't know what I was more

tired of. The basketball game or the high expectations of my mother. The car stops and they

pull into a fruteria. I knew I wasnt going to eat anything. I was angry. The fact that my

family had the audacity to go get something to eat when they knew I was starving. My

friends were with me. They each had two big tortas and I walked out of there with a kale

juice which replaced my third and final meal of the day.

I laid there in the back of my car so weak the only thing that felt slightly better was

closing my eyes and pretending I was somewhere else. We pull up to my house only to turn

back around and leave. My mother told me to change into new clothes and to hurry back to

the car.
 There I was again in the back of the truck. My eyes slowly shut and I escape

everything for a little while. The car stops, my eyes flutter open up to a dark night and big

bright lights that read Chuze fitness I knew exactly what I was here for. I walked in and

slumped down at the first sight of a couch and fell asleep for maybe 5 minutes. Then I heard

my mom and the front desk person arguing. I had no idea what the issue was. The only

thing I only remembered was blurbs of my mom's highly irritated voice.

NO YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, SHE HAS CIFs TOMORROW AND IF SHE DOES NOT

MAKE WEIGHT SHE WONT QUALIFY

My mom is passionate. She's always been passionate. In all my sports. She just

expects a lot. She wants me to go far, sometimes I think she wants it more than me. They

exchanged words again. I was very careless about what was going on. My mom eventually

said Follow me

I walked into what led me to the steam room. I took off my white shirt bruin shirt

and black socks and I walked in 105 degree room. It was hard to breathe. The air was hot. I

tried to breathe through my nose but the humid heat was so heavy it was difficult. I layed

up against the wall and closed my eyes. Sweat was coming out from everywhere of my

body. The walls were dripping with water and the glass door was blurred from the steam.

[Anxiety crept into my mind. I had the thought of the door shutting and my mom and I

being stuck in there]. What would I do in that instance? I thought that we would just die

because I felt too weak to even think about kicking the glass door down. This thought had

made my heart start beating way faster than it normally did. I needed to get out. 15

minutes was the maximum amount of time you were allowed to stay in there and I walked

out after 10. Cool air went through my open pores as I took my first step out of the steam
room. I dried off and went back home. Only 10 more hours till CIFs, only 10 more hours to

weigh in, and only ten more hours till I could eat and drink.

I walk into Claremont High School's gym. The smell of fresh bleach made its way

into my nose and gave me a pound in the head. The bright orange and blue caught my

attention. All of my teammates had bag of healthy foods ready to be stuffed down once we

weighed in. The locker room was full of girls. Full of girls who looked terribly weak, and

skinny. They separated us depending on which weight class we were trying to qualify for.

While waiting everyone was, socializing. All potential opponents were speaking to each

other about their dieting, and working out. I stayed in my own little space, I didn't not say a

word to any of them. I didn't want to show any part of weakness in me.

It was mine turn to weigh in. Down into spandex and my sports bra I didn't realize

how much physical change appeared in my body till then. My stomach was flat and not the

good kind of flat. My arms had no jiggle like how it normally does, I was skinny. I stepped

onto the scale and watch the numbers 105.3 lbs flip back and forth to 105 lb and finally the

scale froze at 105 lbs. I made weight. I could finally eat. I opened my snack bag reached for

my fruits and them. The problem was I was eating so fast I felt like throwing up. I trained

my stomach to eat so little my stomach got full instantly but, it was frustrating because I

was still. SO hungry.

The crowd was wild. Yelling and clapping, the audience was live. I didn't care what

was going on with the match in front of me. I couldn't focus. I jumped up and down

slapping my body to get blood circulating. I was composed on the outside. Straight face and

a well composed stance but on the inside fear entered my mind like a thief and stole all my

confidence.
 High Tech - Samantha?

I raised my hand

Youll be green

It was officially time. I took the green ankle band, bent down and placed the velcro

onto my right ankle. As I waited for the reff I stood there with all eyes stuck on me. [My

heart sank to my empty stomach meeting the million butterflies that fluttered around, I

tried to hide my nervousness with a few jumps to make it seem as if I was warming up].

Shake hands

I reached out to shake my partner's hand and she met mine in the middle. I didn't

want to look mean but, I was unable to smile I was way too nervous. She had long legs and

was nervous too. I could tell by the way she moved her foot back and forth waiting for the

reff to blow the whistle. At this point I heard nothing but the sound of my heart beating and

saw nothing but, my partner in front of me. The live crowd was all of a sudden mute. The

sense of nervousness seemed to trump everything I was feeling up to this point. My hunger,

weariness, weakness. Before I knew the whistle blew. It took a while for us to engage. We

continued to circle around the mat until finally she grabbed my neck. Her legs were very

long and they were exposed right there in front of me. My eyes were set there trying to

think of my next move. I pushed her backwards to have some momentum and I picked her

ankle timing it and there she fell on her back. The crowd went wild. I heard my coach

yelling but I couldn't make out what he was saying. I held her neck tightly and hoped for

the best. After 5 or so seconds of pinning her the ref blew his whistle. We walked back to

our sides. Took off our ankle bands and we hugged each other. I just qualified for state. I

just placed 2nd in CIFs, but, [I didn't feel as happy as I thought I would be. I thought about
my basketball team. What do I do? I had to make the decision of either go to state or help

lead my basketball team to being CIF champs. This was the first year we made it to playoffs

for basketball. This was the only chance we had of winning playoffs this year. This was the

hardest choice to make and the sucky thing was that I was the only one who could make it.

Do I let my team down? Or do give up this opportunity that I have worked so hard for? I

asked everyone I possibly could on their opinions on what they think I should do. Nothing

helped. No one wanted to share their opinions because they didn't want their opinion

influencing my decisions. I thought long and hard about everything I put myself through. I

thought that because I prioritized basketball all season I am going to do this for myself. I

went to state the story was the same

The same feelings will soon come up. Everyday will soon become a circulatory

system. A schedule that is never ending and feel like it won't. The same way that the heart

which pumps blood through a looping system. Is the same way my passion of sports will be

the pump to my always circulating routine.