The woman stood proud and tall, looking up at the crowd. Somewhere in the audience she knew her mother and brother were watching, their faces hidden behind one of the dozens of red and white flags being waved in the stands. Now wasn’t the time for searching for faces she reminded herself. Focusing inward on herself and on her horse; the big bay Warmblood she had always dreamed of performing with. As she waited for the judges to ring her into the arena with the chime of a little bell she thought back on all of the times before this where she had waited, nerve-wracked and trembling for that same chime. 1
Every single time someone had been there for her. Whether it was her humour-loving mother in the audience ready with a teasing wolf-whistle and a grin or her coach reminding her of how far she’d come from her first lesson; how of everyone she wanted it the most; reminding her that she was capable of anything.
Sometimes it was her friends, her peers who were there to lend a hand. Two years ago, when she had moved away from home to train with the one team that had produced more international athletes in this country than any other it had been and older team-mate who gave her team jacket to her. Every time she wore it she felt like the red and blue made her invincible. 2
It wasn’t just moments like this, waiting to step out onto the world stage; it was also the quiet nights where she had fallen to tears because her practice had not gone as planned where she had needed comfort and support. Those nights were the nights where her husband both gathered her in his arms and admonished her for her negative thoughts. He told her that she was strong, beautiful, and fully capable of grasping hold of her dreams. He was the one was the one who gave her sweet kisses and strong advice. His deep forest green eyes filled her with confidence. He was the man who believed in her when she couldn’t believe in herself.3
Some nights she could see the frustration in his eyes; see how much he wanted to make her happy. 4
The woman knew that her human circle were not the only ones to aid her along the treacherously narrow road to success. She remember how kind-heartedly her first pony had carried her; she remembered a nuzzle from her first real Arabian; she remembered the first time she had leapt from the ground to a horse’s back—how together they had flown.5
She remembered that feeling every time she ran beside a horse, every time she held on, closed her eyes and jumped.6
It was the feeling she still had every time she opened her eyes and found herself flying she remembered all horses and all of the people who lifted her here. 7
The vaulter looked up as she heard the chime of the bell.
Author notes
This is a story about progress, passion and how an athlete isn't created in a vaccume. The sport it focuses on is Equestrian Vaulting. http://www.vaultcanada.org for more information on the sport.
PS: I'm ambidexterous...but my left wrist is broken so I'm temporarily right-handed.
A contest entry
- Success Stories by Migfin.
500 points, ended August 30, 2008, 13 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - Short stories! by Vanilla King.
350 points, ended September 9, 2008, 23 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest - I want your sports stories! by gocubsgo25.
275 points, ended August 20, 2008, 6 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
1 - 7 of 7
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Sorry to hear about your wrist =( but thanks for reading the rules ^-^
Nicely ended! you managed to take the cliché out of success by leaving it just before they actually perform. In a piece that I altogether loved reading, that's possibly my favourite part.
Your description at the beginning, with her family in the stands and all the spectators around them, you created a fantastic scene there, I could practically hear all of the noises in the stadium.
I preferred that you let her mind wander, rather than keeping her completely focussed on the task at hand. I got to see her worry best through, say, the way her husband had to comfort her, instead of only reading about butterflies in her stomach or something.
You have a unique style, one I very much enjoyed reading. Thanks for your entry, I look forward to reading more of your stuff =) (currently can't, anonymity and all)
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Thank you for the gold trophy^^
it's wonderful to see that someone actually likes my writing beyong the erotica or yaoi peices that I've writtin in the last few months. Really, thank you so much this tottal brightened my day.
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Wow that was cool! Few small errors (in P3 you have "was the one" twice) but aside from that, very well written! The topic isn't something I really care about, which makes it all the more impressive that this story managed to grab onto my attention.. and keep it! You have great writing skills... keep it up!
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thank you, I'll have a look at it and make a few more revisions.
Just a note, this peice, as an unedited original composition on the topic "others infulence our attitudes" scored a 5.5 out of 6 on BC's provincial writing scale.
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Great descriptions and emotional ties. Thanks for entering. D.
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this was an ok story. As someone very interested in the arts I liked this all the better because she is a preformer. It is interesting all the things going through her head since she should be focusing on what she is doing. Anyways, cool write
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This does a good job of describing all the things that go on in the woman's mind as she is waiting for the bell. The intensitiy of her training, and of the moment, has sharpened her senses so that all these thoughts probably occur within just a few seconds, or at least that is the impression the story gives.
It sounds authentic, like you really know and love the subject firsthand. I only wish there was more, maybe relating to her training, previous competitions she had been in, her family, particularly her husband. It's just such good writing that I hated to see it end so soon. You could perhaps develop this, take it a bit further.
Paragraph 2, weather should be whether.
Thanks for entering the contest!
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