College Admissions Essay: Triple Jump

I hate losing. I hate those “what if I jumped better” or “what if I ran faster” thoughts of regret racing through my mind. I’ve been an athlete all my life, and by being an athlete it’s taught me to be a competitor. My competitive side comes out when I am jumping in triple jump. When I step foot on that runway my natural athlete kicks in. My muscles twitch as I repeat in my mind “left, left, right” as I make my way down the runway. It’s hard to explain but the feeling of running as fast as you can and flying though the air is an extreme adrenaline rush. For the past four years triple jump has been my event I hold pride to in track. I see my competition as people I must excel past to remain on top. But what happens when your greatest competitor

I went from anger and hatred to pride and joy, which wasn’t easy to accomplish at first. I’ve always been a competitor when it comes to sports. Although this does not sound humble I am not used to being beat, especially in triple jump. I have placed 8th, 5th, and 2nd at state in the event and have broken the Seneca High School’s triple jump record in my career. The day I saw my sister as my main competitor my first thought was, “she is going to break my record I’ve worked so hard for.” For some reason I couldn’t get my mind past the fact she might actually beat me. To me, my school record I set was something I needed to defend for as long as I possibly could, and I couldn’t let my little sister be the person to break that record. Especially while I was still in high

I had arrived to the jumping pits ready to preform my best with my parents standing along the fence cheering for both my sister and I. I was ranked first coming into the event so I knew if I preformed my best jump I would take first place, or so I thought. As I stepped foot on the runway to preform my jump I said good luck to my sister Cora, who then proceeded to stand in line behind me. On my first attempt I jumped 35 feet 8 inches on and was satisfied because it was my farthest jump in the season. As I made my way to the back of the line to preform my second jump I hear the announcer say, “35 feet 2 inches.” Shocked that somebody was jumping almost as far as I had I turned around to see who jumped, and it was Cora. At that moment my adrenaline kicked in, and so did my sister’s. I hopped right back in line with a mindset to make my next jump unreachable. As I anticipated what the measured jump would say I was anxious, “36 ft 3 inches.” A sigh of relief hit me because I knew that was half an inch under my school record and my sister had only one jump left. Cora made her way down the runway with victory on her mind, and when she hit the sandpit I looked the other way scared of what the measurement might be. “36 feet flat” the announcer broadcasted. With that being said a giant smile streaked across Cora’s face, as a giant frown draped down mine. Her jump was too close for