Sophia Otis

Haslam

ENGL 1010 - Period 1

October 2, 2020

The buzz of anticipation spread through the air as I stepped through the doors. I gripped
my bow case firmly at first, but then relaxed as I reminded myself to stay loose. I made the
mistake of looking around, at all the faces, all the parents, all the competition, all the pressure. I
clocked myself in and then went to the outside range. I turned my attention to my target, newly
put up with four pins in each corner, positioned at 70 meters away from the start line.
The familiar scent of equipment and the fresh air flooded my senses as I continued to
walk around the range. I found a place to set up, and got to work, where I clipped the limbs in,
strung the bow, screwed in the sight and stabilizers, put on my armguard, grabbed my finger tab
and sling, and then pulled out my arrows to put them in my quiver. I put everything else away
and started making my way towards the line, where occasionally I looked up and to greet the
many other faces I know and recognize from over the years.
I started to think back to how I even got into this position, how I just decided to try
something new, and even to my first time where I picked up a bow. I remember when I went to
Salt Lake archery, where I spent months trying to improve, but nothing happened. I remember
when I went to Easton Salt Lake Archery Center and took their “beginner” class over and over
and memorized every lesson and video. How Joe with his paint tray tattoo and Jake with a
friendly smile were my instructors, and how I tried to stay on top of things in my form and such
even though they told me something different every time. I remembered going to Datus, where
they didn’t exactly teach me either, instead I just found more competition when I wasn’t looking
for any. I thought back to the first time I met Brett after Joe was fired, and how he would set me
further on this journey. I remember my first class with him, where he tried to have me do
something, but I wasn’t getting it. Over and over I tried, but my brain was just too crowded. My
mother pulled him aside and explained to him how I’ve never really had any real instruction or
even an actual coach, and how at the time I was trying to think about doing several things all at
once. She would later tell me how he just looked at her and went “Okay.” and walked right back
out to me.
I will never forget how he sat me down, looked me in the eyes and said, “You know
everything that you’ve been taught about archery?” I blinked, “Yes…” He studied me, “Forget all
of it.” I remember being set to work, having to relearn everything I thought I knew, from my form
to even how I planted my feet. This was the first time I finally had an actual coach, and where I
definitely began to want to compete.
I kept thinking of these things as I found a spot and put my bow down. I looked up and
around once again, searching for familiar faces. I remembered how my first sort of team was
started, with Brett and myself getting tired of me taking the same class over and over again and
finally decided to create something new. I remember how none of us talked to each other, which
was a weird contrast for Brett who would talk to us constantly. After a few years of that and
many people who would come and go, Brett soon left with them. That was a hard year for me,
and honestly, it still is. Soon after, he was replaced with a previous Olympic resident archer from
the Chula Vista training center named LaNola Pritchard/Shepard. She was the alternate for the
Rio 2016 games, and she’s also from Utah. After some time where I got to get to know her, we
realized how similar we are to each other, especially in how we think and act. I still want to try
and take the path she has already taken, and she still is all for helping me get there. During this
time I also made it onto the R.E.D. Team West, which is a branch of the USA Archery Team, but
for the youth. With this I met many more people, and with it moved up higher in competitions,
such as on a national and international scale.
After some time I was old enough to get a job, and since I had been at the center longer
than any of the workers here, they offered me a job as a temp, coaching a beginner class since
I was still a minor. Recently since I’ve turned 18, I’ve been hired on officially. With this job, I've
been able to pick up on so many things, as well as focus my mind back to how it used to feel
shooting as a beginner, and how much I loved it.
As I was thinking of this, I looked at the score sheet on the ground and made sure my
name was there, then looked around at the other archers. I thought back to when I first got my
own bow a few years ago, and all the many times of orders that went wrong and fletching new
arrows as I improved constantly, with that slightly more often chance of breaking them. I
remember getting ready for my first, second, and so on tournaments, practicing over and over. I
started to walk around the shooting line until I found my closest teammate Sydney among the
crowd. We moved towards each other, and we could tell we were both a mix of nervous and
excited but tried to hide it. We nodded to each other at the memory of LaNola telling us to just
have fun and keep eachother going, and ended up talking with each other for a while.
“How’s your day going so far?” I asked her. “Well besides breaking a few arrows
yesterday, I’d say we got the wind going pretty good for us.” She said, looking out at the row of
bows on the ground. “Yeah, that's a first. How’s school going?” I questioned, taking an arrow
and spinning it in my hand and with my fingers. “Well, let's just say I’d rather be here.” She said
a bit passive-aggressively while we both laughed. We continued talking and looking around at
the other archers, taking in the several regulars and a few of the new faces. We talked about
homework and other tournaments that would come up, making a plan to practice together more
often.
The buzzer sounded, warning of a few more minutes until we started. “We got this.” I told
her, as I put my fist out and turned it to the side. “You too.” She says as she does the same and
hits the side of my fist.
I walked away and moved to where my bow is, flipping my sling around my finger in
anticipation. I start thinking back to when I volunteered at the Archery World Cup, and how I met
almost all of my idols. I remember how calm and collected they seemed along with how they
were just present in the moment and enjoyed being there, and I tried to mimic it. My thoughts
then moved to remember how many hours and months I’ve put into this, and how time after time
I questioned why I’m even doing this. The same question pops into my head, and I brushed it
off, trying not to get into my head too much.
The buzzer sounded for the first line to step up, and I watched the many different takes
people have on their form and shot process.
 I moved my gaze around to all the other archers, and wondered about their own story. I
wondered why they are doing this, all their reasons and time they put in. I’m amazed how many
people there are, sharing the same thing: we all shoot, and we all are sticking with it at this
moment in time.
The buzzer sounded again after they shot their six, and I stepped up to the line. I plant
my feet, feeling mechanical, as I’ve done this so many times before. I knocked an arrow, and
placed my finger tab in the right spot. I gripped the bow, and stared down at the really far target.
I felt the breeze just slightly press against me and waited for a time until it died down. Like many
times before, I do my memorization process, thinking about how everything should feel. My last
thought was of everything I’ve done to get to this moment, all the time, effort, and even
sometimes tears.
I decided to take a moment, just to myself. I looked around at all the targets, lined up
and slightly blowing in the wind. I felt the sun on my skin and closed my eyes, taking a moment
to breathe. As I breathed out, I opened my eyes, staring daggers, what LaNola likes to call it,
and I used my current mental trick, saying the word​ go​.
I would raise the bow, counting each step as I drew the arrow backward to the corner of
my mouth, feeling the tension and movement increase in my back. I closed an eye and saw the
yellow in sight. I hear the clicker go off, release, and watch as arrow after arrow flew through the
air, my thoughts and promises to myself carried with it.