Socks

The single most life altering event in my life would probably have to be the day I won freshman Javelin districts. It was the first time I had actually ever achieved anything of importance outside of my own little fantasy world. It was also the first time that I figured out that when I actually set my foot down, and fully believe that I can go out and dominate something.

To start the story I will summarize how the whole track season went prior to freshman districts.

When I first came out for track my freshman year I was set on being a long jump kid. It was what I had been really good at in middle school and it was the event my older brother had done. However, the real reason why I had done track in the past was because it was a co-ed sport, and I was ecstatic to be doing sports with females in high school. Unfortunately, to my disappointment I did not take into consideration that I was going to school at Mead High School, and they take track incredibly serious. I ultimately found out that Mead boys and girls did not practice together, and that it was actually frowned upon to interact with each other during the hours of track. In figuring this out I wanted to bail on the whole program and just quit track, because my main reason for coming out for track had been cut out from my high school career.

I went and talked to the head track coach after the third practice in his office, and told him that I wasn’t really feeling too strong about track. That it just didn’t seem like a place for me. Mr. Mires being the guy he is didn’t want me to just quit right after starting. He told me to wait until the first meet and then make a decision. Reluctant to be on the bad side of Mr. Mires, I forced a smile and agreed with him on that being the best decision. The next day I went out and looked for what appeared to be the easiest event possible in track. I first looked at high jump, but decided I had to work on a lot of leg strength for that. Then I looked at shot putt, and decided that I would have to focus a lot on upper body strength. I was really in a pickle until I came across javelin. Javelin looked incredibly easy because all you had to do was chuck a stick out into the grass. Later did I find out that it was actually one of the hardest events in track because of all the technique work that is required.

I made my trek to the Javelin field on the beginning of the fourth practice and started throwing it out into the field. It didn’t go far at first, but the coach was very encouraging and said that I had the perfect body for it. I thought he was just feeding me a line of crap. So I once again forced a smile and tried to show some enthusiasm. It was really hard for me to actually pay attention to what the coach would be saying to us while at practice because I had the mentality that I just wanted to get out of there and quit track.

When the first track meet came around, I was super excited. “I can finally quit, I can finally quit, I can finally quit” was all that was going through my head and I was just counting down until I was up to throw. We arrived at the field with our javelins, and we did our warm ups and what not, to be ready for our competition. When my name was finally called, I took off my sweats and picked up my javelin. As I was walking to the runway, my coach came up to me and gave me his version of words of wisdom: “Yo Nic, let’s lift up that skirt of yours and let that javelin fly”. I was a little baffled with my coach’s comment, but by his grin while saying it, I knew he was saying it as constructive criticism, and to get me fired up a little bit. And fired up I got. I took that javelin and I wailed it out into the field. In reality it wasn’t very far, but it was a good 20 feet farther than I had been throwing in practice, and it was a good feeling to do that. After that meet I fell in love with javelin and the exhilaration of the final moments of the throw.

That was all at the very beginning of the season. The life changing event happened at the very end of the season that same year, at Javelin districts.

I woke up that morning, with extreme bravado and zeal for the track meet that was waiting for me that day. I got up and took my shower and got dressed just like every other day. However unlike any other day, this day I had only two clean socks. A black one and a white one. It threw me off guard and I was pretty sure that it was an evil omen about the future events of the day. I tried not to think much about it and slipped them on, left foot black sock, right foot white sock. I then made my trek to school where the bus was then going to transport me to the arena in which I was going to compete.

On arriving at the track, my coach came up to a fellow javelin thrower, who I was warming up with, and myself and he questioned us on how we felt about today, and how we thought we were going to do. My friend mindlessly just rebutted with “I think I’ll do good”. I was about to do the same and then something came over me, like a firm hand shake; but to my soul, and I replied to him with “I’m going to win this”. He proceeded to nod without saying a word and walked off as I took off in the other direction and continued to warm up.

After meditating for about an hour in the grass by myself, trying to find my inner animal’s strength, my name was finally called to throw. I grabbed my javelin and walked over to the runway. My coach cut me off before I stepped up to the runway, and gave me his words of wisdom: “personally I don’t think you can do it, I think you where feeding me a line of crap”. Once again it caught me off guard, but his grin while talking told me that he had just issued me a challenge. I stepped up there with blood flowing in all the veins of my body. I was about to explode with power and just throw it as hard as I could. I was ready to dominate this event, but something happened. That same feeling came over me, that feeling of a firm hand shake on my soul, but it was amplified this time. When I took a breath it came in more crisp, my surroundings became nulled and all I could see was the runway, and the field. My surrounds had disappeared and I was in my own universe with one mission, and nothing else at the moment mattered. I pumped the javelin in the air, took one breath and started to lean into my run. I hear in my mind “it’s go time”, and I started my run. I built up speed step by step all the way until my plant. I hit the ground hard and with more power than I had ever harnessed before. Then time froze. My body moved in every right way and in the last second I released the javelin into the air without even thinking. I crumple down to the ground, and rebuild myself back up in time to see the javelin hit its peak in altitude, and come down like a lighting bolt from Zeus himself. It nails itself into the ground and I stand watching as the officials go out and mark it. 123 feet 7 inches! Ten feet farther than I had thrown any other time my whole season. I was bursting with excitement, but not satisfaction. I knew I could still do better.

My second throw comes around and I muster up myself for another solid throw. This time however I did not feel my Zen. I felt as if my sword had been put back into its sheath and I was venerable. I had no time to waste though. I had my self valor that I had built up on my own and had to just go with that. I ran down the runway and ended up tripping over the foul line. To my disappointment they did not count the throw, and in my rage of the distasteful throw, I take off for a run to get my head clear again and find my inner self for the last throw.

My name is called again for the third and last time. I grab my javelin and start walking to the runway. My coach and I make eye contact as I am walking and all he does is nod. I get up to the runway and grip the javelin. I take a deep breath. I am about to start running when I pause, because of this overwhelming feeling in my chest. It feels like my lungs and heart just had icy-hot rubbed on them and I have to take a second to bring this feeling down. As it comes down I feel more at peace with myself. Like I have just been blessed by a high priest and have a new power within me. I take a step and I can feel my foot make contact with the ground. In an explosion after that first step, I take off at full throttle with the only thought in my head of “it’s go time”. I make my final approach to the end of the strip and I plant my foot. Everything around me comes to an instantaneous halt, and I release the javelin. I fall to the ground, and pick myself up to see the javelin gaining altitude. I gaze at the javelin for the limited amount of time it is in the air and realize, I have just thrown the winning throw. I wait with patience as the officials go out and mark it. 127 feet 10 inches! I walk off the runway, trying to be humble about the situation, but the excitement coming from my teammates is overwhelming. I had just thrown the throw that won freshman districts.

My coach came up to me after my teammates were done bombarding me with excitement, and he congratulated me. He smacked me on the back and told me “Atta kid, way to not be a total failure!” and he grinned and gave me a hug. As he pulled away from our embrace he looked down and noticed my socks and remarked “okay…what is up with those”. I had totally forgotten about the sock situation that had troubled me earlier that morning, but this time I looked at them differently. The mismatching and tabooness of them made me think of them as being a good luck charm. I looked at him and said “It’s my good luck coach, don’t question it” and he just smiled and walked away.

For the last 3 years I have worn a black sock on my left foot and a white sock on my right foot, everyday. I have missed 4 days of not wearing them in the last 3 years and that was only for a wedding, a funeral and two school dances. Staying out for track altered my life. Giving me more self confidence in anything I do. Coming in first place and beating everybody in a city wide event, gives you self confidence that helps you in many aspects of life. Whenever somebody questions me about my socks, I always bring this story up. It gives me even more confidence in life, to share my story. Being the single most life altering moment in my life, it was also the single happiest moment in my life. It’s something that I’m not afraid to share with people by looking like a goon with mismatching socks.