From a period of great need to a time of plentiful accomplishments, Deacon had greatly succeeded where many failed. A hard fought battle with himself that only had 2 ways out: to give up or push through, and his mamma ain’t raise no quitter.  Out of the eighty-six thousand seconds in a day, one single second can reform a whole reality for one person. As it did for Deacon. 

The glistening beams of sun being blocked by numerous mighty clouds in the winter months made for an ear numbing day. Though it not bein’ cold as a frost nipped stone, it was still much below welcoming weather. After a strenuous but average seven hours at school, t’was time for track to start. A favorite extracurricular activity of Deacons. He knew he was vastly gifted in the sport, thus was looking forward to another chance of proving himself to be the best of champions. The current year, being a greatly successful sophomore year thus far, Deacon had gotten his friends to join track, too. Them being Austin, a great companion of 10 years and Anna, a friend of only limited months. A circumstance in which he had longed for the very year prior. He was essentially alone during his freshman track season, a solo participant yet being surrounded by hundreds of athletes. The season was to be the best one yet, filled with success and superiority. So it would have seemed. As it was everyday, vigorous warmups kick-started track practice. Being a seemingly normal, however unusually cold day, not a negative thought passed through Deacon's focused mind. Eager to loosen their muscles swiftly, the trio of friends promptly decided to push harder in the warmups to prevent the possibility of any injury. There’s not a chance I’ll get injured this season. Deacon positively affirms over and over within his confident mind. Amidst the course of the seemingly riveting warmups the group was engrossed in, there came the single exercise that Deacon dreaded deeply. Despite this actuality, he pushed through as hard as he could. Every time Coach blew the whistle, another group of athletes would go, and every time it came closer to his turn. Deacon's heart pounded from blood flow and anxiousness. When his turn came, it ended faster than it came. The first set of high knee sprints was completed. The feeling of his foot slamming against the soft yet rough grass was harrowing. Darts of fire flew through his sweaty legs. A feeling one can either love or despise. His arms pumping in the air at alarming speeds; perfect form accompanied by immaculate execution. As the line lessened, Deacon's next turn was coming up. The second set of high knee sprints was underway. Watching the athlete ahead of him run, his chest filled with anxious anticipation. Hoping to, once again, execute the run flawlessly. This idea was not fulfilled. 

It was a feeling not of pain but the feel of something missing. A pop had occurred in the upper hamstring of Deacon's leg. His heart dropped like the raindrop of a cloud. His eyes wider than that of the Grand Canyon. A deep feeling of anguish rushed over Deacon and nearly brought him to his knees. In this very moment, the pain was worse in such a sense that he knew, from then on, his track season was not to be nearly as wondrous as he had previously hoped. All dreams and wishes of that year had been smashed.  With warmups approaching its end, official practice had begun its torture. Although Austin and Anna were able to complete simple exercises such as squats, Deacon was incapable of doing such activities. As time passed by inconceivably slow, the pain increased astonishingly quickly. By the next day, Deacon was heavily advised to stop track till he healed. While injured, he was as useful as a broken wrench. However, his arrogant mind denounced the idea of resting while there was so much work to be done. So until he was forced to stop, he continued to push through the pain. 

Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Nearly 3 aggravating months of pain and feeling as if he were a liability. Deacon's mind was clouded and blocked. It shut out any possible positive input along with blinding him from seeing a positive outcome from the current predicament. As he watched his friends succeed at the very sport he devoted hundreds of hours to, he was wholeheartedly torn. Though his happiness for Austin and Anna were unparalleled, his dejection was tremendous. For a sustained period, Deacon let his sorrow overwhelm him. It was time for a change.

You are good at what you do. In fact you’re better than most. I’m sorry that you got injured but what’s done is done. You need to wait it out. When you’re ready, you will exceed expectations and show your strength. These words said by Deacon's mother inspired him to overturn his negative attitude for the better. He started to study the perfect forms and techniques to long jump, Deacons main event. He anxiously waited till his leg felt just about good enough for track. The words radiated in his mind. His coach's words were upmost inspiring. Are you ready to go to these meets? Referencing the hard-to-obtain varsity spot meets. The tremendous drive that permeated within Deacon was prodigious as Niagara Falls. A moon before the next meet, Coach firmly asked the question Deacon very much so had the answer to. Will you be ready for the meet tomorrow? With pure determination and excitement, he responded. Yes Coach, I feel I am ready. 

The day had arrived in its full glory. You’re finally competing! How do you feel? Questions Anna. Nervous, anxious, but overall plain ecstatic. Answers Deacon. The wait in line for his event seemed endless. A void of dread and anxiousness that refuses to cease its hold on Deacon. After what seemed like an eternity, the time came. You can do this. It’s nothing you haven’t done before. Thinks Deacon as he prepares to start his approach on the long jump runway. His heart beating faster than a rocket ship, mind racing quicker than a race car. But his focus seemed to defer not a single moment. As quickly as he started his run, it ended. The time spent in the air felt as if nothing had happened. ’Twas the feeling as if he never jumped. That was not the case. 

Holy crap! Yelled Piper, another friend of Deacons. With this very jump, after months of no training, he had made the district and regionals team. Nineteen feet two inches was the mark. Looking back at the seemingly dreadful experience of missing most of the season, it didn’t matter to Deacon. Seeing what he had accomplished and how far he had gone, literally and figuratively, all seemed well. It was all worth the effort, injury or not, but now it’s just the beginning for Deacon. There will be no end to the challenges and mountains that must be overcome and conquered. However, if there’s a sure constant, it’s that Deacon will not stop at anything to become the best and ultimate challenger. With the right mindset, you can turn your weaknesses into your strengths.