A faint twinge of
excitement floated through my body that night. A hint of anticipation of the
coming day could not be suppressed; yet to be overcome with anxiety would not do
at all. I arduously forced those pernicious thoughts from seeping in and
overcoming my body and mind. I still wonder that I slept at all that night.
But I did. I slept soundly
and comfortably as those nervous deliberations crept into my defenseless,
unsuspecting mind, pilfering my calm composure. When I awoke refreshed, I found
my mind swarming with jumbled exhilaration. The adrenaline was flowing already.
After a quick breakfast, I
pulled some of my gear together and headed out. The car ride of two hours seemed
only a few moments as I struggled to reinstate order in my chaotic consciousness
and focus my mind on the day before me. My thoughts drifted to the indistinct
shadows of my memory.
My opponent’s name was
John Doe. There were other competitors at the tournament, but they had never
posed any threat to my title. For as long as I had competed in this tournament,
I had easily taken the black belt championship in my division. John, however,
was the most phenomenal martial artist I had ever had the honor of witnessing at
my young age of thirteen. And he was in my division. Although he was the same
rank, age, size, and weight as I, he surpassed me in almost every aspect of our
training. His feet were lightning, and his hands were virtually invisible in
their agile swiftness. He wielded the power of a bear while appearing no larger
than I. His form and techniques were executed with near perfection. Although I
had never defeated his flawlessness before, victory did not seem unattainable.
For even though he was extraordinary, he was not much more talented than I. I am
not saying that he was not skilled or even that he was not more skilled than I,
for he most certainly was, but just not much more than I. I still had one hope,
however little, of vanquishing this incredible adversary, for John had one
weakness: he was lazy. He didn’t enjoy practicing long hours or working hard.
He didn’t have to. Nevertheless, I had found my passage to triumph.
My mind raced even farther
back to all my other failures. I must admit that my record was not very
impressive. Never before had I completed anything. I played soccer. I quit. I
was a Cub Scout. I quit. I played trumpet. I quit. Karate was all I had left.
The championship meant so much because I had never persevered with anything
else.
In the last months, I had
trained with unearthly stamina and determination. I had focused all my energies
into practicing for this sole aspiration. Every day of the week I trained. Every
evening, I could be found kicking, blocking, and punching at an imaginary
opponent in my room. Hours of constant drilling had improved my techniques and
speed. All my techniques were ingrained to the point where they were
instinctive. Days and weeks passed too swiftly. . . .
I was abruptly jolted back
into the present. The car was pulling into the parking lot. The tournament had
too quickly arrived, and I still did not feel prepared for the trial which I was
to confront. I stepped out of the car into the bright morning sun, and with my
equipment bag in hand, walked into the towering building.
The day was a blur. After
warming up and stretching, I sat down on the cold wooden floor, closed my eyes,
and focused. I cleared my mind of every thought, every worry, and every
insecurity. When I opened my eyes, every sense and nerve had become sharp and
attentive, every motion finely tuned and deliberate.
The preliminary rounds
were quiet and painless, and the championship fight was suddenly before me. I
could see that John looked as calm and as confident as ever. Adrenaline raced
through my body as I stepped into the ring. We bowed to each other and to the
instructor, and the match began.
I apologize, but I do not
recall most of the fight. I do faintly remember that when time ran out the score
was tied, and we were forced to go into Sudden Death: whoever scored the next
point would win. That, however, I do recall.
I was tired. The grueling
two points that I had won already had not been enough. I needed one more before
I could taste triumph. I was determined to win, though I had little energy
remaining. John appeared unfazed, but I couldn’t allow him to discourage me. I
focused my entire being, my entire consciousness, on overcoming this invincible
nemesis. I charged. All my strenuous training, every molecule in my body, every
last drop of desire was directed, concentrated on that single purpose as I
exploded through his defenses and drove a solitary fist to its mark.
I was not aware that I
would never fight John again, but I would not have cared. Never before had I
held this prize in my hands, but through pure, salty sweat and vicious
determination, the achievement that I had desired so dearly and which meant so
much to me was mine at last. This was the first time that I had ever really made
a notable accomplishment in anything. This one experience, this one instant,
changed me forever. That day I found self-confidence and discovered that
perseverance yields its own sweet fruit. That day a sense of invincibility
permeated the air. Mountains were nothing. The sun wasn’t so bright and
brilliant anymore. For a moment, I was the best.
COMMENTS:
The admissions officers
admired this essay for its passion and sincerity. In fact, most of the noted
drawbacks were based on the writer being too passionate. “Kind of a tempest in
a teapot, don’t you think?” wrote one. Other suggestions for improvement
were “purely editorial” such as the overuse of adjectives and adverbs, using
a passive voice, and making contradictory statements. “For example, he says,
‘I slept soundly and comfortably as those nervous deliberations crept into my
defenseless, unsuspecting mind, pilfering my calm composure.’ How could he
sleep soundly and comfortably if the nervous deliberations were pilfering his
calm composure? There are a few other examples like that that I won’t go into
here. I would just suggest that the author look carefully to be sure his ideas
stay consistent and support one another.”
What I like about this
essay from the point of view of an admission officer is that I am convinced
that the change in attitude described by the author is real. I do believe
that he will carry with him forever the hard-won knowledge that he can
attain his goals, that perseverance and hard work will eventually allow him
to succeed in any endeavor. This is an important quality to bring to the
college experience. Especially when considering applications to prestigious
institutions, the admission committee will want to feel sure that the
applicants understand the need for hard work and perseverance. Many times
the strongest-looking applicants are students for whom academic success has
come so easily that the challenges of college come as a shock. I always like
hearing stories like this, of students who know what it means to struggle
and finally succeed.
CampusNut Notes:
This essay was borrowed from EssayEdge.com.
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